up with his rainbow wig, striped jumpsuit, powder white face with overdrawn lips that just so happen to be frowning at the moment.
“Judge Baxter,” he snaps, and Everett straightens just hearing his name. “Why aren’t you in costume? Your wife made it clear in the invitation there was a strict costume policy, and that the guest of honor himself would be wearing this ridiculous getup.” He looks my way. “Are you the one that can see the dead? I’ve been meaning to have a word with my mother.”
Everett takes a deep breath as if he were gearing up to explain the entire night away.
I thrust my hand out at him. “I’m Everett’s wife, Lottie Lemon. Did you see the cookie bar in the back?”
“Cookies?” He turns, and I pull Everett into the crowd with me until I spot my mother.
“Are you insane?” I shriek. “Who did you let hijack my party?”
Her hair is in an updo, and she’s wearing an elegant red dress as she studies me with curiosity.
“What are you talking about? After Evie left, the party planner came by and I gave her free reign of the place. But now that you mention it,” she leans in and shimmies her shoulders, “Reckless Party could be a very real contender for my next book title.” She looks to my left. “Happy Birthday, Everett. I think everything turned out wonderful.” A deep-throated laugh gets buried in her chest as she looks my way once again. “And that cake is hilarious, Lottie. I’m putting in an order right now for one just like it for Wiley’s birthday.”
Speak of the devil. Wiley strides up with a drink in hand, looking every bit just like Noah with his dark wavy hair, lawn green eyes, and dimples.
“Quite a party. Happy Birthday, son.” He toasts us with the amber liquid swilling in his glass.
“Oh, that’s a good idea,” I say, looking at his drink. “Wiley, open the bar.” I give Everett’s good arm a squeeze. “Maybe we can get them liquored up and they won’t remember any of the trauma?” I leave out the little detail about my mother not having a liquor license. Or does she? My brain is so scrambled from all the external stimuli I can hardly remember my name at this point.
Everett gives a quick nod. “Great idea.”
Wiley shakes his head. “Not going to happen.” He holds up his drink. “This is from my private reserve. The only thing I’ve got to serve these people is ginger ale and grenadine syrup.”
“We’re going to need something stiffer than ginger ale.” Everett pulls a wad of cash from his wallet and stuffs it into Wiley’s fist. “Make it happen.”
Wiley trots off, and my mother is on his heels.
“Wait,” my mother wails. “I didn’t get a chance to ask Lottie about the dead.”
A horrid moan comes from me.
Carlotta and Noah step up, both of them with cheesy grins on their faces, and I huff at the sight of them.
“Which one of you did this?” I growl.
“Don’t look at me.” Noah holds up his hands as if it were a stickup. “I’m not this creative.”
Carlotta shrugs. “Me either, but I have a sneaking suspicion I know who’s at the helm of this snazzy soirée.” She leans in. “You might want to go easy on her, Lot. This place is crawling with enough prosecuting attorneys to put both you and that hot shot judge you’re married to away for life.”
Everett gives a long blink. “I wouldn’t hurt a hair on the head of any woman.”
“Suit yourself, Sexy.” She nods just past him, and we turn to see the abomination of desolation laughing it up over by the refreshment table.
“Cressida!” I yelp as I speed her way, and no sooner do I arrive than Evie pops up by my side with Everett and Carlotta flanking her on the other side. “How dare you shanghai my husband’s birthday party! Your little attempt to humiliate him might just cost him his position down at the courthouse.”
She tosses back her platinum mane and cackles like the wicked witch she is.
“Oh, Laura, I wasn’t out to humiliate Essex. I was out to humiliate you.” Cressida has donned a tight blue dress that hugs her curves, and she happens to look stunning in it. I hate that she looks stunning at my husband’s birthday party no less.
“Cressida,” Everett barks. “I’d ask if you lost your mind, but you did that a long time ago.”
Evie scoffs. “Yeah, Cressi-duh. My uncle is going to