Page 14 of Twice Baked Risky Whiskey Cakes

Lottie opens her mouth to protest but gags on her words because there isn’t much to protest.

I lean their way. “I know I asked earlier, but I really need you to think. Did either of you see anything out of the ordinary when you arrived on the patio?’ I ask, pulling out my notepad in hopes of a different answer.

“What we saw”—Carlotta announces a touch too loudly—“was the Silver Spoon Stabber performing amateur acupuncture with extreme precision. Her knife placement was excellent. But her patient outcome was poor.”

An officer walking by nearly trips over the caution tape just hearing it.

“Would you knock it off?” Lottie elbows her. “You already said all that, albeit worded a little differently.”

“I can’t help it, Lot. I’m on a roll.” Carlotta pats herself on the back. “It’s not every day Sexy’s mama unleashes the beast within and tells one of her exes what’s what with the working end of a knife.”

“He was not one of her exes,” Lottie is quick to tell her. “Eliza was married to Everett’s father forever, then she made the mistake of marrying Noah’s conman of a father for five regretful minutes.” She winces my way and mouths a quicksorry.

“No offense taken,” I say. “Please continue.”

“Anyway”—Lottie does just that—“Eliza was so burned by Wylie she hasn’t dated since. Besides, she said she didn’t know the man.” She looks my way. “We came outside for air,” Lottieexplains, shooting Carlotta a warning look. “We found Sebastian like this, and Eliza was standing over him because she simply tried to help the man.” She cringes again, and I know for a fact she’s trying her hardest to try to keep her mother-in-law out of the big house. I can’t blame her; so am I.

“She claims she was just trying to pull the knife out,” I say with a shrug.

“And I claim I’m only twenty-five,” Carlotta snorts. “We all tell lies to make ourselves feel better.”

Lottie gasps as she stares down her look-alike. “I’m going to fit you with a muzzle, first thing in the morning.”

“Why wait that long?” I mutter.

I scan the crowd, looking for Everett once again, and this time I spot him with Eliza, on a bench away from the chaos. Eliza sits ramrod straight, stoic, and confident, despite the blood staining her hands.

“Let’s check on them,” I suggest as I guide Lottie and Carlotta across the way.

“Need me to break the ice?” Carlotta offers as we approach. “I’ve got more than a few killer jokes on hand. Get it?Killerjokes?” She cackles at her own ridiculous pun.

“Please don’t,” Lottie and I say in unison.

Eliza looks up as we approach and her expression is unreadable. Everett’s face, however, is a storm of conflicted emotions. I know for a fact the judge in him is battling with the devoted son he is.

“I’m going home,” Eliza announces without preamble as she rises to her feet, and for a moment, I think maybe she’s afraid I’m going to arrest her. I’d love to assure her of otherwise, but deep down I know better.

“Whoa,” I say, pulling her in for a quick embrace. “I understand you want to leave, but I really would like to ask you a few questions first,” I say, trying to balance my heartfelt respectwith the job at hand. “It’s just procedure, nothing personal. In fact, I’m willing to break with protocol to make it as painless as possible.”

“Ask away,” she replies with an icy frost coating each syllable. “I’ve already told you everything.”

“Yeah, Foxy,” Carlotta snips. “Like how to effectively accessorize with other people’s blood. Crimson is the new black. Ain’t that right, Lethal Lizzy?”

Eliza casts a glance at Carlotta strong enough to curdle milk.

I choose to ignore Carlotta’s colorful outburst and focus on the task at hand. “Did you know the deceased?” I don’t take my eyes off of Eliza.

Her lips press tight as if they had no intention of uttering a word. “I did not know Sebastian Gallagher,” Eliza insists, although something flickers in her eyes when she says it. “I was out for some fresh air—I saw him in distress, and foolishly tried to help.” She holds out her hands, still coated in crimson. “And believe me when I say, that will be the last Good Samaritan act that I indulge in any time soon.”

I tip my ear her way. “And you mentioned you tried to remove the knife?” I ask, knowing full well that I’m treading on thin ice with Everett watching my every move. He’s like a missile ready to explode, all steel and heat. A part of me is fearing for my teeth—although my vision is pretty high on the list, too.

“Yes.” She nods curtly. “It wouldn’t budge.”

“Like her alibi,” Carlotta quips loud enough for everyone to hear. “That thing is sticking about as well as a cat in a bathtub.”

Both Lottie and Everett growl her way.

“Come on, Mom.” Everett places a protective hand on his mother’s shoulder. “I’ll drive you home.”

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