something magical about December snow that makes you believe all is right with the wor—
A familiar looking woman stands about thirty feet from my van, and I blindly venture that way.
“Suze?” I call out as I make my way to her in the darkness. She’s standing with her back turned to me, her head positioned down as if looking at something on the ground. Her purse looks to be at her feet, and she’s holding something metallic in her right hand.
I come upon her and gasp when I see what’s hijacked her attention.
Lying facedown in the snow is a woman with a granny cap and a sultry Mrs. Claus costume on that leaves most of her flesh exposed to the harsh elements at play. A plate full of my eggnog trifle is splattered all around her in a messy display, as a gingerbread man with his head broken off lies in two pieces just out of her grasp. But it’s the blood running from her back, darkening the snow around her, that stops me cold in my tracks.
Gloria Abner won’t have to argue with Suze or anyone else ever again about crossing a line.
It seems as if Suze Fox is the one that has crossed a homicidal line tonight.
Gloria Abner is dead.
Chapter 3
“Give me the gun.” The words rumble from my lips.
My usual inclination once I come upon a body is to scream my bloody head off. But since there is far more tension in the air than I’ve ever encountered before, I choose to abstain from that primal howling—at least for now.
Suze on a normal day is skittish and volatile. But at the crime scene of a fresh murder—holding what I assume to be is the murder weapon—she is darn right terrifying. For all I know she could turn the gun on me next.
“No,” she whispers as she shakes her head in a panic. “No,” she says just a touch louder as the gun falls from her grip, and I swipe it up before it has a chance to leave a dent in the snow. And then I do the unthinkable. I point to the sky and I fire that sucker, sending an earth-shattering blow into the silence, and when it goes off, that tiny tot in my belly gives me a good solid kick.
I clutch at my stomach just as an entire crowd of deputies storms in this direction, and along with them are both Noah and Detective Ivy Fairbanks.
My eyes stray to the scene of the crime once again, and I spot something that looks like animal prints in the snow, a tiny triangle in the front and a neat square right behind that. They lead up about as far as Suze is standing before dispersing into smears, and it’s difficult to tell if the prints backtrack or not.
“Lottie.” Noah has me in his arms in a moment and hands the gun off to Ivy. “Are you okay? Is it the baby?”
“I fired the gun,” I pant. “I’m a terrible mother. The baby kicked. But it was the only way I knew I’d get people here quickly.” I glance to the body, and both Noah and Ivy groan in unison.
“Did you kill her?” Ivy shouts as she bolts to Gloria and checks her vitals to no avail.
“No,” I say as I offer an apologetic look to Noah. “She did.” I point silently to the woman before us, and Noah’s entire body goes rigid.
“Mom?” He abandons me for her just as Everett swoops me into his arms.
“Geez. I leave you for one second. Are you okay? Is the baby okay? What the heck happened, Lemon?”
I quickly fill Everett in on everything that’s just transpired and his hand warms my belly.
“I’m taking you to the hospital to get you checked out.”
“No, please don’t. I feel fine, I promise. And Dr. Barnette is right inside,” I say, almost pleading with him. I know for a fact when Everett sets his mind to something, it’s hard to turn that train around, especially when it comes to my wellbeing. Besides, there are suspects afoot—and then it hits me like a brick to the head. “Oh my God, Suze really killed that woman.” I stagger over to where Noah and his mother are having a somewhat heated exchange, albeit with hushed voices.
Everett pats Suze on the arm. “Are you okay? Do you need me to call someone for you?”
“Essex, this is all a mistake,” she howls and starts in on something just this