A sharp, shrill scream escapes me—my own voice carrying a morbid aria, an all too familiar tune I’ve heard on one too many occasions.

“Lemon,” Everett riots as he bursts into the room. His commanding frame stifles my screams as I struggle to catch my breath. His eyes search the room all at once before he drops to his knees and picks up Eve Hollister’s unmoving hand.

“No pulse,” he mutters mostly to himself. In one seamless motion, he rolls Eve over and places his cheek to her mouth. “She’s gone, Lottie.” He pulls his phone out and calls 911, barking into the receiver as the dispatcher asks questions he has no answers to on repeat. Soon enough my mother comes in and lets out a riotous howl of her own, and within seconds there are far too many bodies crammed in the doorway.

Everett bounces to his feet. “Everyone back,” he shouts as he motions for the crowd to filter into the foyer.

Daphne bursts through the crowd like a bottle rocket, her smooth bun quickly riddled with flyaway hair. “My God, what have you done to her?” Her eyes flit my way, and I gag in response to the not-so-silent accusation.

“We found her on the floor,” Everett says, shooting me a look that suggests I don’t say a word.

The murmur of the crowd rises in octave, and my head spins just trying to take it all in. Eve Hollister, dead at her very own birthday party. It can’t be.

And how? Could this possibly be another murder? What horrible curse has befallen poor Honey Hollow again? It just can’t be.

The younger Hollister girl, Brenda Lee, comes in through the back door and my heart thumps wildly, unsure of what to make of it.

“Is she dead?” she asks casually with the slight rise of a smile on her face, and it gives me shivers.

Before I can open my mouth, my mother runs over with one of her prized antique tablecloths spread wide like a sheet over Eve Hollister’s motionless body as if she were about to seal her off from the world with it.

“No, don’t do that,” I say, bounding my way over and snatching it from her. “This could be a crime scene. We can’t rule anything out.”

“A crime scene?” Daphne snarls my way. “Are you saying someone actually bothered to murder my mother?”

My mouth hangs open a moment as I look her way. “Yes, that is exactly what I’m saying.” My God, she practically likened murder to a compliment, but I don’t dare say it. This is Daphne’s mother. She’s obviously in shock, and people certainly can’t be blamed for what they say when they’re out of their minds in disbelief. Her mother is dead, and it obviously hasn’t had a chance to sink in yet.

“Oh, Lottie,” Mom wails as she crashes her body to mine. “I can’t bear to see her this way. With her own birthday cake all over her face. Nobody should die that way. It’s just not fair.”

I pull my mother into a tight embrace just as Lainey breaks through Everett’s human shield as he continues to block the doorway with his body. I can’t help but scowl at the fact that both Naomi and Lily have taken this very morbid opportunity to latch onto his every limb as if struggling to get past him. Boy, they don’t miss a single dead beat.

The sound of sirens lights up the air outside, and within seconds a bevy of firemen fill the room, making their way to Eve. Just as they get to the business of ushering everyone out, Noah bursts in, wild-eyed, his chest palpitating as if he raced all the way here from Ashford on foot.

“Lottie.” I’m in his arms before I can process it. His lips join with mine for a moment before he pulls back. “I heard it was the B&B. What’s happened?” He takes a step over and inspects Eve’s motionless body just as one of the firemen shakes his head our way. His dimples dig in, no smile, a rife look of disappointment on his face.

“Put a call to the coroner,” Noah says to the fireman hovering over her body. “I need everyone in the building to stay put. I’ll have to question them before they’re free to go. This is officially a crime scene until deemed otherwise.” He pulls out his phone and sends a quick text. “Detective Fairbanks is on her way.” He looks to me forlorn for a moment. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to start my questioning with you.” The room begins to fill with what feels like the entire sheriff’s department, and Noah lifts a finger to me, his smile dispirited and affable. “Don’t go anywhere.” He heads over and briefs the deputies on the situation while I make my way to Everett.

Everett twists his lips. “Your mom and sister are out there trying to calm everyone down.” His dark brows narrow as he glares at Noah from over my shoulder. “He’s going to want an explanation as to why I’m here.”

“I know.” My voice pitches without meaning to. “We can just tell him—”

Everett’s eyes widen.

“Tell him what?” Noah’s voice resounds from behind, and I turn to find his dimples digging in with a hint of satisfaction blooming on his face.

“Tell you”—dear God, what do I say—“that the back door was open when I came in.” I shrug over at Everett, and he gives a brief nod.

“We don’t want to paint a bad picture, but one of her daughters came through it after the fact.”

“Yes!” I offer a congratulatory nod to the brilliant judge. “And she asked if her mother was dead—she seemed oddly giddy about it, too.” I shudder again just reliving that grizzly scenario. No pun intended.

That look of satisfaction melts off Noah’s face, quickly replaced with his go-to stone-cold expression. Noah Corbin Fox is tall, dark, and vexingly handsome. He, much like his ex-stepbrother before us, has the power to make every woman in a twenty-mile radius gravitate his way. Noah radiates lethal levels of testosterone, and this fact alone makes me want to fall to my knees before him. A dirty smile flickers on my lips, and I hate myself for it. Poor Eve isn’t even cold yet, and Noah is commandeering my good senses, just the way he does in the bedroom.

“Lot”—Noah’s eyes peg to mine—“who was closest to the victim? You mentioned her daughter is here. Maybe I should talk to her first.”

“You can, and you should, but maybe start with my mother if you want to know anything personal about Eve. My mother was her very best friend in the whole wide world.” And I’m beginning to think only friend.

“All right. I think we’ll head out and perhaps use the dining room for questioning.” He shoots Everett a disparaging look. “I don’t know why you’re here. I don’t think that I want to know. Did you find the victim?”

Everett glowers at him. “Lottie was first on the scene. I heard her scream and rushed on in. Am I free to go, detective?”

Noah’s eyes remained pinned on Everett’s. “No. Head out there and stay put.”

Before Everett can make a move, a tall redhead with a permanent look of disapproval on her face strides on in—Detective Ivy Fairbanks, the menace that Noah is forced to spend copious amounts of time with.

“Let me guess.” She scowls my way. “Lottie just happened to find the body.”

I cringe without meaning to. I so hate it when she’s right.

Noah closes his eyes a moment as he nods her way. “I’ll question the people present. Why don’t you corral them in the sitting room and try to get a bead on what happened leading up to the event?” I’m both distractingly turned on and vexed by the fact Noah is bossing Ivy around. Vexed because I suspect she just might like it.

An easy grin glides over her sour—although very much supermodel worthy features.

“That sounds good.” The smile glides right off her face as she looks my way. “We have your fingerprints on file. I wouldn’t make any plans to leave the state any time soon.”

“I’ll do you one better. I’m not leaving Honey Hollow. I’m innocent. And perhaps one of the very few people here who actually cares that Eve has passed.” I press my lips together as I look to where she lay. “Some of these people here were horrible to her today.”

Noah brushes a kiss to my cheek. “I’m sorry you had to witness any of it.”

Ivy scoffs as if my display of emotion was all an act to deceive. “Come, Judge Baxter.” She lands her hand over his arm and it looks intimate, unprofessional, and it makes me want to claw her eyes out. “I have a feeling we’ll be spending copious amounts of time together today.” They take off, and Noah presses his hand into the small of my back as we make our way out of the kitchen as well.

“I’m sorry. I called Everett,” I confess as a flood of words beg to rush on out. “It’s just that he—”

“Lottie!” My mother rushes at us as we enter the thick of the crowd. “What’s happening? Is she still dead? Was she murdered?” she hisses that last part out in a whisper.

“Yes, she’s gone.” My chest bucks with grief. “But as for the homicide, that’s for Detective Fox and the coroner to discover.”

Noah leans in. “If you two ladies don’t mind, I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

We make our way to the dining room, and Noah asks a few basic questions of my mother’s whereabouts, her relationship with Eve, and my mother spouts off the answers just as quickly.

Noah winces. “Did anything strike you as off this afternoon? Did she mention she wasn’t feeling well, perhaps?”

Mom chews on her lower lip a moment. “Come to think of it, she did say she was hot, and I think she was heading to the kitchen for a drink or something. The entire room was in a tizzy once those books started moving on their own. They were just flying all over the room! And Naomi Turner swears on her life that the brownie platter upturned and fell to the floor out of the blue.” She grabs ahold of my arm and gives an aggressive squeeze. “They think the B&B is haunted! They’ve already sprayed it all over the internet.”

“Haunted?” Noah ticks his head to the side, his eyes never leaving my mother.

“It can’t be haunted,” I’m quick to assure them both. “Those girls probably tossed their books because they didn’t care for the scary Sassenach and they wanted to cut to the cake—I mean, the chase.” A nervous giggle bubbles from me. “I might have had it right the first time.”

“All right.” Noah makes an additional note on his phone. “Lottie, if you don’t mind, see if you can get Eve’s daughter in here now.”

“Oh, she’s got two.”

Noah’s eyes expand with intrigue. “One at a time, please.”

I haul in Brenda Lee first, and that gray hair seems to have gone powder white since the discovery of her mother’s body. Hey? Maybe it’s natural after all? Also, I spotted Ivy speaking with the group en mass. Such an amateur.

“Lottie?” Noah hitches his head to the door, and I scowl a moment before leaving the two of them alone. But I stand right outside the room like a dutiful guardian in the event Brenda Lee is the killer and she feels the need to add a sexy detective to the body count. But the dining room is so darn big I can’t hear a thing. Soon enough Brenda Lee emerges, gloating as if she just won a prize.

“Quite the looker, isn’t he?” She giggles darkly while shimmying her shoulders at me.

“He is. And that’s exactly why I’m dating him.” I don’t know why I felt the need to make that clear, but I have a feeling that what Brenda Lee wants, she does her best to land between her legs.

Daphne is no better. Once Noah is through, she steps out, slicking her hair back, a laugh caught in her mouth as if she just finished flirting with the cute boy at a party, and, in a way, she did.

“Detective Fox could wrangle the panties off a ninety-year-old nun.” She gives a hearty wink before taking off, and I’m openly gagging at the remark. Nice to know that both of Eve’s daughters are so completely torn up over her death. If it were my mother, you’d have to pry me from her lifeless body. Miranda Lemon is my everything.

One by one, Noah questions them all, and one by one they all come out glowing as if he just frosted their cookies. I’ll admit, I’m a bit miffed, but such is life with someone as amazing as Noah. I’ll just have to get used to the fact he’s heavily favored among women of every age and stage.

Everett comes up just as Noah is conducting his final interview.

“Fairbanks said we can go.” His lids hood low a moment, and the muscles in his jaw pop as if he were contemplating something.

“What is it? Did you hear anything suspicious? Oh my God, did that bear make an ornery reprisal? Please tell me books didn’t go flying again. If word gets out that this place is haunted, not to mention the fact a body was discovered in the kitchen, and, believe you me, I hate reducing poor Eve to nothing but a cold corpse, but my mother runs the risk of never booking another room in this place again.” Wow, that all felt so wrong. As soon as the words leave my mouth, I wish I could suck them right back in. “Not what I meant. Kind of.” I shrug up at him.

“It’s okay. You found your friend lying on the floor, her face in the birthday cake you lovingly baked for her. I know that you’re concerned for everyone involved.”

“Thank you.” My voice softens. “So, what has you unsettled, other than the obvious?”

Everett’s lips pull tight as he shoots a brief look to the dining room. “While I was hanging out, I had a chance to observe some of the guests. What are your thoughts on Connie Chutney?”

“Connie?” I try my best to rewind the afternoon. “The older woman? I think they mentioned they volunteer at the hospital together—did.” How I hate referring to Eve in past tense. “Did she say something that raised a flag?”

“It wasn’t so much what she said than what she didn’t say. She seemed irritated and put off that she needed to be here. And at times she looked as if she were pleased with the outcome. I don’t know—something about it seemed a bit off.”

“That is strange. What about the sisters?”

Everett closes his eyes. “Don’t quote me on this, but the word ingrates comes to mind. Neither of them said a kind thing about their mother. In fact, the blonde alluded to the fact their mother died because she was too cheap to visit a doctor.”

“Eve has—had millions.”

“It doesn’t mean she spent them. And if it’s true, she wouldn’t be the first miser to garner a few enemies.”

My mouth falls open. “You think she was killed?”

“I think we should keep our options open.”

“We?” I bite down on a delicious smile. Everett has played sidekick to my shenanigans on more than one occasion, but in the end, it’s always worth it because so far every killer has been brought to justice.

Valerie Vernon, the young blonde who referred to herself as Eve Hollister’s underpaid handmaiden, is the last to leave the dining room. She has perfect bowtie lips and exaggeratingly large brown eyes that look as if they can swallow up the world. She’s pretty in a unique way. I’m a little surprised that she chose such a demure profession rather than getting herself into more of a social setting. A thought comes to me just as she offers both of us a cordial nod on her way out.

“Valerie? If you need work, I can use some help at the Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery. I’m on Main Street. If you’re interested, just stop by.”

Her wrinkled forehead smooths out. “That would be great. I have always appreciated the value of a day job.” Her left brow hooks high as she looks to Everett. “I guess you’ll know where to find me after all.” She takes off, and her perfume lingers like a scarf.

“Made a few friends?” I can’t help but tease Everett—only I’m actually a bit annoyed by the fact, considering the circumstances.

Noah steps out and looks to the two of us. “I made a few friends, myself,” he muses.

“So, what do you think, Noah?” I pant the words out as if I just ran a lap around the building. “Do we have a homicide on our hands?”

Noah’s shoulders square out, and his chest doubles in size with his next breath. “That’s for the coroner to figure out. But one thing is for certain—there seems to be more than enough people displeased with the deceased. And not one of them regretted she was gone.”

Not one.

The words resonate long after he speaks them.

Poor Eve.

I, for one, am very sorry she’s gone. And if someone did kill her, I will hunt to the ends of the earth in order to bring them to justice.

Those dissidents in the next room had better pray that Eve Hollister died of natural causes, because if she didn’t, I’m coming after each and every one of them.