Eggnog Trifle Trouble (Murder in the Mix #28) - Addison Moore Page 0,27

she is trying to get the leader of this coven to backtrack on my baby’s paternity prediction, and here I am trying to defend her questionable honor.

“Honestly?” Elodie twitches like a horse anxious to get out of the shopping gate. “I never did trust, Candy.”

“Candy Brighton?” I toss out her name as if we were old friends. But we’re far from it. And seeing that she’s friendly with Cormack, we won’t be bonding over pendants and nooses anytime soon like I am with good old Elodie here.

She gives a curt nod. “I invited her to a few places, and she’s not very friendly. In fact, I’ve only ever seen her at the Christmas Angels club. She’s sort of a snob that way.”

“Was she a snob to Gloria, too?” I ask just as Kringle flicks his sharpened nail in her direction and she inches back as if he nicked her skin.

Her hand touches her cheek and she inspects it. “I could swear I just got bit by something.”

“Probably a no-see-um.” I shake my head at Kringle. I’ll have to have a talk with the sneaky specter. “So you were saying about Candy?”

She tries to step past me, but I step right along with her.

“Candy was nice to Gloria.” She shrugs. “I don’t know. Everything about the girl is off-putting to me. Probably because I wasn’t raised the way she was. You know the type, the boarding school socialite that makes everyone feel they’re either in or out of her clique?” She says clique in air quotes. “She made Gloria feel in and, well, she makes me feel very out. I’m not a fan of that behavior.”

“That’s not really a reason to kill Gloria, right?”

Kringle holds his hands out by his fuzzy little face and shrugs, and I bite my lip to keep from cooing over at the little pointy-tailed angel, he’s just that cute.

Elodie glances to the ceiling a moment. “Maybe. Or maybe that was a part of the plan. Excuse me.” She glides past me and dives straight into the middle of the candle chaos, scooping up as many three-wick jars as she can hold.

Candy Brighton?

I glance over at Suze as she rants away to Serena and shake my head.

All right, Suze. I’ll talk to Candy next.

Don’t say I never did anything for you.

The baby kicks and my hand quickly clamps over my belly.

Huh. It makes me wonder if I’m in the process of doing something much bigger for Suze—like giving her a grandchild she already wants nothing to do with.

Don’t worry, Sugar Cookie. Mommy wants you here, plenty.

And I want that killer put away, too.

It’s almost Christmas, and I want this holiday homicide solved long before Santa ever hops into his sleigh.

And if I can make a prediction myself—it will be.

I’ll make sure of it myself.

Chapter 6

“Other women wish they can be you, Lot Lot,” Carlotta says after I finish up puking into the bushes.

Once Everett texted and said the house was ready for me, Carlotta and I packed it up and headed back to Country Cottage Road. We made it a little more than halfway before my stomach became a spin cycle and I had to deposit my lunch into the bushes in front of my sister Lainey’s house. A part of me is tempted to run on in and see my new little niece, Josie. And the other part of me doesn’t want to tell my sister the real story behind my impromptu visit, so I decide to do a quick rinse with the travel-size mouthwash I keep in the glove compartment, chug some water, and soldier on.

“No one wants to be me,” I counter as we pull onto our street. “Look at that.” I slow the car down next to the two lots of charred out rubble where my home and Everett’s once stood. Not even the snow wants to stick to that mess. “That’s outright destruction, Carlotta. And it’s all because I couldn’t seem to listen to Nell and not get involved with the Hearst murder investigation back in October. I’m an idiot is what I am. And somewhere in the burnt out mess lies a metaphor for my life that I don’t dare try to winnow out. Besides, I’m a mother now.” I sniff back tears, my eyes still very much glued to the vacant wasteland before me. “I’ve got someone else to think about other than myself. I need to put the baby first. Maybe Noah and Everett are right. Getting tangled up