“Are the two dead brothers—Nicholas and Lorenzo—somehow related?” Lottie asks, leaning closer to Noah. “I mean, besides being actual brothers.”
Noah straightens his shoulders, trying to regain some professional composure. “We’re looking into all possibilities. Cooper and I are running toxicology screens, checking connections, the whole nine yards.”
“In other words, you really don’t know,” I translate.
“Yet,” Noah adds defensively. “We don’t knowyet.”
Everett glances at his watch and stands. “And on that note, I’ve got a job to get to.” He comes over and drops a kiss on Lottie’s cheek. “Try not to find any more bodies before dinner, Lemon.”
“No promises,” Lottie shoots back.
“You either,” he says while pointing my way and I practically hop with the command.
“Yes, sir.” I’m quick to salute him just as Noah stuffs the last of his glazed donut into his mouth.
“I’d better get going, too,” he says, jumping to his feet. “Cooper isn’t going to be impressed if I’m late to the briefing,” he mumbles through a bite. “Thanks for the sugar rush, Lottie. I’ll call if I get any updates.”
They take off and the bell above the door jingles as they exit, leaving a momentary lull in the bakery’s morning bustle. Lottie heads off to help a customer while Carlotta wastes no time sliding into the stool Noah just vacated.
“So what’s the real story?” she asks. “You can pipe up now that the boys in blue have gone their way.”
“What real story?” I ask, before popping a snowflake cookie into my mouth.
Mmm, so buttery and soft. Lottie really does know what she’s doing.
“Please,” Carlotta scoffs. “I’ve known Jimmy Canelli since he was stealing candy from corner stores. You think I don’t recognize a family hit when I see one?”
My blood turns to ice. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Okay, fine. We both know it wasn’t you. You’ve got the survival instincts of a lemming with a death wish.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I grumble, though I can’t exactly argue with her assessment of my assassination skills. “If I were investigating, which I’m not saying I am, I’d be at square one. The only lead I’ve got is that Holly Bellini mentioned Stella Martinelli might know something, but I don’t know where to find her.”
Suze appears from the kitchen with flour dusting her arms and a streak of chocolate on her cheek. “Did I hear you mention Stella Martinelli?”
“You know her?” I ask, perking up.
“I don’t run in the same social circles as that woman,” Suze saysthat womanas if it means something. “But doesn’t she work at the Jolly Holly Tree Lot? You know, the Christmas tree farm on the edge of town? I think she volunteers there during the holidays.”
“Oh, wait a minute,” I say when the memory clicks into place—Stella at the bakery, ordering donuts to take to the tree lot. “That’s right!” I exclaim, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically for someone who’s just remembered where an elderly woman spends her free time.
Lottie hitches her head toward the door. “Go on. We’re overstaffed today anyway, and you look like you’re about to jump right out of your skin.”
“Thanks, Lot!” I’m already untying my apron, mind racing with questions I need to ask Stella Martinelli about two dead brothers and a possible poisoning, when I rush out the door and nearly collide with Niki, who has a blonde ball of fluff in her arms.
The happy little canine jumps right into my own arms with that bright red bow still secured around his neck.
“Whoa, where’s the fire?” Niki asks, steadying herself and me.
“No fire,” I say, scratching Watson behind the ears. “Just a potential lead. Do you want to help me interrogate a senior citizen at a Christmas tree lot?”
“Is the Pope Catholic? Do bears?—”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I interrupt, heading for the parking lot. “Come on, we’re going to get a tree and maybe a killer.”
CHAPTER 14
The Jolly Holly Tree Lot looks about as cheery as can be for the holiday season—or what’s left of it.
