“You can relax. Loretta Sashimi is safe—for now.” I bite into a nacho loaded with cheese, jalapeños, and most likely a questionable health inspection score. “You know I wouldn’t shoot her with so much as the camera on my phone. What were you two doing here tonight, anyway? And don’t say sibling bonding. I’m disturbed enough by what my eyes have seen tonight.” I glance toward the stage where Niki is now twerking alongside a six-foot-four Mrs. Claus while Watson prances around them, barking with delirious joy.
Cooper sighs, running a hand through his hair in a way that makes his locks stick up adorably in the front. “I was getting information about Enzo. Loretta claims she had nothing to do with his death, but considering she almost stood to inherit everything...”
I gasp hard. “Did she do it? Is she responsible for the double homicide?”
He frowns my way once again. I’m sensing a theme.
“I’m not quantifying that with an answer. Although, toxicology found the same substance in Enzo’s bloodstream,” he says, lowering his voice despite the fact that the music would drown out a space shuttle launch. “Pentobarbital. Same as Nicholas.”
I inch back in my seat. “Sounds as if we’ve got a serial killer on our hands.”
Cooper gives a solemn nod. “It wasn’t you, was it?”
“No, but let’s just say someone beat me to the punch last night,” I admit, then quickly add. “With Enzo, not Nicholas. Nicholas wasn’t on my... to-do list.”
“Sorry about that, I think,” Cooper says, tilting his head in the way he does when he’s trying to reconcile Detective Knox with Cooper Who Dates a Hitwoman.
“So what did Gabe have to say?” Cooper asks, masterfully changing the subject while demolishing a nacho loaded with guacamole.
I fill him in on my conversation with Mr. Esposito, including his allegations about Holly Bellini’s financial arrangement.
“And then there’s Stella Martinelli”—I continue—“who volunteers at the Jolly Holly Tree Lot. She swears she barely knew Nicholas, but I caught her arguing with him at the Jubilee. And when I pushed her on it, she claimed it was about fundraising auction bids.”
He nods. “Because nothing says passionate argument like disagreeing over minimum bids for a charity basket.” Cooper nods thoughtfully. “They all have motives of sorts. Holly loses business if Nicholas pulls funding from her events. Gabe’s Christmas shop goes under if Nicholas opens a competing store. And Stella... well, I’m not sure what her angle is yet, but arguingabout charity auctions sounds minuscule.” Cooper pushes the almost empty nacho platter to the side. “Leave the rest of the investigation to me, okay? This is officially a double homicide, which means the sheriff’s department takes priority.”
“Gladly.” I’m not sure if I’m telling the truth, but Cooper doesn’t need to know that. “Besides, tomorrow night is the big Christmas EveEveshindig at the Evergreen Manor.” I place my hand on his, my fingers tracing the veins on the back of his hand. “Cooper Knox, would you be my plus-one?”
“I’d be honored.”
“Great. I’ll wear my least murderous outfit, and you can leave your handcuffs at home.” I pause, reconsidering. “Actually, bring the handcuffs. Just for recreational purposes.”
Cooper’s lips curve into a wicked grin before he sobers up quickly. “Why would Jimmy want my sister out of the picture, Effie?”
I sigh, wishing I had a good answer. “I’ll get the dirty details, but first...” I lean across the table, closing the distance between us until our lips meet.
The kiss is hot enough to melt the polar ice caps, a sharp contrast to the Christmas-themed debauchery happening around us. Cooper tastes like nachos and promises that I’m not sure either of us can keep, but for this moment, I don’t care.
When we finally come up for air, I spot Niki making her way toward us, Watson trotting at her heels with what appears to be a sequined pasty stuck to his fur.
“Time to go,” I tell Cooper, who nods in agreement.
We collect Watson, detach the inappropriate souvenir from his golden coat, and make our way through the crowd toward the exit. The cold December air hits like a slap after the overheated club, but it’s a welcome relief.
“Your place?” Cooper asks as we reach the parking lot.
“Thought you’d never ask.” I grin up at him.
We hightail it out of there because I’m about to do my best impression of aho, ho, ho. Well, almost my best impression.
As we drive away from Red Satin, I can’t help but glance in the rearview mirror at the neon sign growing smaller in the distance. Two brothers dead from the same poison, a lineup of suspects with solid motives, my uncle’s hit assignment on Cooper’s sister, and a looming Christmas EveEveparty where all the players will converge.
I’d bet my last candy cane that someone is planning to add another body to their naughty list before Santa slides down the chimney—and this time, I might not be able to blame it on natural causes or someone else’s handiwork.
CHAPTER 18
The Evergreen Manor radiates holiday spirit with the subtlety of a Times Square billboard. Think lots of crystal, lots of bling, and lots of holiday spirit coming straight from the credit cards ready to kick this auction up a notch.
The ballroom practically vibrates with holiday opulence, from the twenty-foot Douglas fir dripping with crystal ornaments and velvet bows to the forest of smaller trees flanking the dance floor, each decorated in a different color scheme.
