“To Eve Hollister and Nell Sawyer,” Mom says, hiking her glass to the ceiling and everyone in the room does the same. “Two women whom I adored and admired. You will be greatly missed.”

A warm coo of approval breaks out as we all drink to that one.

Mom thought it would be a good idea to have a do-over at the B&B after the fiasco the other night. Keelie and Naomi are here, as is their mother Becca, Lainey and Forest, Noah and Everett, and Lily Swanson and Brad Rutherford also managed to score invites. I don’t mind Lily, even though she’s been hanging all over Everett like a wet sheet of toilet paper. The same could be said for Mr. Rutherford and my mother.

We enjoy a nice meal that my mother catered in. She still insists on only visiting the kitchen on an as-needed basis, and since she’s catering all the food in, it’s just not needed. Bear felt so bad for her, he said he would throw in a kitchen remodel for half the price if she wanted, and you bet she wanted.

After dinner, Keelie helps me dole out my infamous seven-layer cake. I baked three this month that went uneaten. It turns out, after they arrested Bill Chutney, Carlson Hall cleared out, and there wasn’t a soul left to haunt the place.

Dutch barks from the foot of the table as if begging for a piece of my delicious Bavarian dream cake himself.

“This cake is getting eaten,” I say before adding under my breath, “just not by you.” I give Dutch a quick wink as I help pass out extra-large helpings to everyone in the room.

Noah and Everett are each enjoying a piece by the fireplace, and I head that way.

“What do you think, boys?”

Noah moans with satisfaction. “You should really consider opening up a bakery. It’s that good.”

Everett grunts out a dull laugh. “I’m starting to think the bakery is just a cover. She’s about to put you out of a job, Noah.”

Now it’s me belting out a laugh. “No thank you. I like it just fine in the kitchen. I’ll take customers over suspects any day of the week. Detective Fox, you are welcome to all the homicide investigations in the world. I want nothing to do with another one of those things.”

Noah’s dimples press in deep. “Now that sounds like a deal.”

Everett sways back on his heels. “I’ve got some news.”

Noah lifts a brow. “Did you pick up a new strain of STD?”

Everett takes a moment to stare him down. “Nope. I spoke with Daphne today.”

“Ah.” Noah wraps an arm around me and pulls me in close. “You set a date for later this evening. Again, be leery of those STDs.”

Everett growls as if he were annoyed with his former stepbrother. “I’m no longer speaking to you.” He turns my way. “Lemon, Daphne let me know they had the reading of the will this afternoon.”

“Oh my goodness! Did Eve leave an even split among her three kids?” I’m assuming that’s what any loving parent would do, but I think it’s been proven Eve was a strong proponent of tough love.

Everett shakes his head. “Not quite. She left the house to the girls and gave Helman a nice sum, that if he spends wisely he can live off of.”

“What did she do with the rest?” I’m almost afraid to ask.

“She donated it all to a worldwide animal welfare and conservation group that specializes in taking care of abused or abandoned circus animals. Apparently, her grandfather owned a circus, and she grew quite fond of a bear cub.”

“I see.” And it confirms what Daphne told Keelie and me that day at the courthouse. “Well, I hope the remaining Hollisters are at least content with what was given.”

Everett shakes his head. “Daphne is repealing the will.”

“Can she do that?” I balk. “Those were Eve’s wishes.”

Everett offers a sorrowful nod. “Just about every will can be contested and dismantled. And Daphne is just that good.”

We call it a night and head back to Country Cottage Road. Noah and I say goodnight to Everett, and I wrap my arms around my gorgeous boyfriend.

“You up for a quick cup of cocoa by the fire?” I bite down playfully on my bottom lip.

“If that’s code for frosting your cookies, I’m in, Cupcake.” He picks me up and races me up the porch, and a laugh bounces from me.

Noah and I don’t bother to light the fire. Instead, I hang onto that hunk of muscle as we heat the sheets and burn down the house ourselves.

Noah and I are definitely on fire.

On a Thursday, the last one in January, Keelie, Naomi, Becca, William, his three daughters, and I hightail it into Nell’s attorney’s office and prepare for what comes next, the reading of Nell Sawyer’s last will and testament.

When Keelie relayed to me that Nell’s attorney requested I be present for the reading of the will, you could have blown me over with an angel cookie. When Nell mentioned that she had an envelope for me in the event something happened to her, I assumed that it would trickle down to me through the proper chain of command—the lawyer, Becca, Keelie, and finally me. But here we are, awkward city.

The lawyer comes in, Thomas Beauregard, Attorney at Law, looking every bit as intimidating as one might imagine. Tall, large frame, thick head of gray hair, deeply wrinkled skin, and a permanent scowl on his face. Is that some sort of requirement in all legal professions?

After a quick dissertation on things, that I let slip right by me, Mr. Beauregard straightens the paperwork in his hands. “To my dear family whom I love with all of my heart, please know that I have set aside an equal and healthy sum of money for each and every person in this room.”

William shoots a sly eye my way, and I shrink a little in my seat because I’m certain Nell didn’t mean me.

“The Honey Pot Diner, the land under the Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery, and all of the remaining real estate holdings, which include my primary residence in Honey Hollow and my summer home in Nantucket, and my beloved cat Waffles, I bequeath to Carlotta Kenzie Lemon—”

If he said anything else, it was drowned out with the sound of gasps and perhaps even a trio of screams from Keelie’s cousins.

William glares my way. “I’ll contest this. Whatever you did to con my mother into gifting you half of Honey Hollow, you won’t get away with it.”

“Uncle Will!” Keelie roars at him like a tiger in my defense.

The door creaks open and in steps that woman in the red coat—yes, it’s red once again, hood drawn halfway down her forehead, scarf to her nose, Jackie O sunglasses despite the fact she’s standing deep inside a high-rise in Ashford.

Everybody in the room freezes, including me.

Nell’s attorney scowls over at her. “Carly?”

The woman nods, and both Becca and Will stand. “Carly?” they cry in unison.

Mr. Beauregard clears his throat. “Your timing is impeccable. The stipulation was—”

“I know,” she says, pulling back her hood and plucking off her sunglasses to reveal caramel-colored hair and a pair of light hazel eyes. “If I’m not present, I don’t get a dime. Well, I’m here.” She does a quick sweeping glance of the peanut gallery before returning her gaze to the man with the plan in his hands.

Mr. Beauregard looks at her from over his glasses. “And do you realize what’s expected of you?”

The woman in red pulls the scarf from her face and takes a deep breath.

“Yes, I sure do.” She staggers deeper into the room and looks right at me. “My name is Carlotta Sawyer. I am Nell’s youngest daughter, and I ran away when I was just sixteen.” Tears glisten in her eyes as she looks to Becca and William. “I ran away right after I had a baby and left her in the Honey Hollow Fire Department.” Her gaze reverts to mine, and I freeze. “It’s true. I’m the one that did that to you all those years ago. Carlotta Kenzie Lemon, I am your mother.”

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