Eggnog Trifle Trouble (Murder in the Mix #28) - Addison Moore Page 0,59
stop,” I tell her.
“Stop what, Lot?” Carlotta elbows me. “Stop telling the truth? This ain’t news to Foxy. He’s well aware of the fact you tossed him to the curb. Ain’t that right?”
“Don’t answer that, Noah.” I glower over at Carlotta.
Meg leans in. “Before things get heated and you drag the detective off to smooch and make up, I think you should know Evie and her friends are having dinner in the next room. They wanted to toss some blades, but they’re too young. Hook and I bought ’em a round of eggnog and some nachos.”
“Ooh, thank you. I’ll let them have some time to themselves before I head that way.” I glance to Chris and note that a glowing metaphysical mouse has attached itself to the handle of that axe he just tossed to the wall.
Kringle lets out a shrill cry as he hurtles through the air and lands with a thud as the blade of that axe hits square over the bullseye.
Our small group offers him a spontaneous applause.
Noah leans in. “Go ahead and do your thing, Lottie. I’ll be throwing axes at Carlotta.”
“You mean with,” I correct, and he gives a slight shake of the head as the two of them take off to the booth.
Meg and Hook migrate over to Chris, and I move right along with them.
“Great shot,” I tell him as Hook slaps him on the back.
Chris Holiday is tall, sturdy, and pleasing to the eyes with his affable smile and honey-brown hair. He has on a sensible brown sweater and matching chinos and looks like your textbook accountant in just about every way.
“Chris, this is Meg’s sister, Lottie,” Hook says as he winks my way.
“Nice to meet you.” He offers me a quick handshake. “You look familiar,” he says as Meg shuttles Hook to the front of the booth, and they both outfit themselves with weaponry.
“I was at the Evergreen Manor for the Christmas Angels fundraiser,” I tell him as a spray of red and green miniature stars appears between us, and Kringle the revenant rodent materializes, looking a little green around the gills—or chubby cheeks as it were.
“Oh, Lottie.” Kringle grips the adorable roll of fat around his waist. “It looked like a good idea at the moment. I thought it would be like that hamster wheel Gloria put in my cage. But it was more like the time I snuck into a dirty sock and ended up in the spin cycle. That’s what did me in, you know. The last words I heard my Gloria say as she held my lifeless body in her hands were, ‘Poor Kringle. He’s all washed up.’”
A mournful smile comes to my lips. She wasn’t wrong. And just hearing about young Gloria makes me that much more motivated to catch her killer.
Chris gives a side glance to the crowd bustling past us.
“That was an unfortunate fundraiser. Didn’t do much fundraising with the exception of selling that painting. Wait a minute…” He squints past me. “I think that’s the woman who won that monstrosity.”
“That’s my mother.” I’m not typically so quick to claim Carlotta as my anything without an in-depth explanation that involves a side trip to the Honey Hollow Fire Department and the Lemons, but for the sake of brevity, that’s all I’ve got. “And she loves the painting. We live together, so it’s hanging in my living room—ghost and all.”
His brows flex. “Ghost, huh?”
Kringle floats in front of him. “He’s not a believer, Lottie. I can see it in his eyes.” Kringle wiggles his front paws in front of Chris and blows a raspberry with his tongue as if he were mocking the man.
“Ghost.” I nod. “So where did you get the painting anyhow?”
His lips part as he takes a breath. “Let’s just say it fell into my hands.”
Kringle shakes his head. “He’s not revealing his sources. But we’ve got bigger fish to fry. Ask if he killed Gloria and then let’s head to the kitchen and see if they have any fried fish.”
My stomach growls, indicating it’s not a bad idea.
“I take it you knew the victim.” I shrug his way.
“Gloria?” He frowns as he says her name. “Yup. I knew her. She always had a hand in every fire. Sad to say it, but I’m not terribly surprised she got burned.”
“Really? What kind of fires? My boyfriend’s mother is a part of the Christmas Angels, too. I’m always looking out for her, and if there’s trouble in that group, I’d love to be