Page 34 of Twice Baked Risky Whiskey Cakes

The bell above the door jingles, and in struts Carlotta, looking like she stepped off the cover of a magazine—if magazines featured women in red sequins with too much perfume at eight in the morning. She’s still wearing the same clothes from yesterday, but her skin has a certain glow that suggests a good night’s sleep was not on her agenda. Both of which are typical for her.

“Someone looks like they enjoyed their sleepover at the mayor’s house,” I say as I pull a couple of whiskey-glazed donuts off the rack behind me and set them on a plate for her.

Carlotta plops down in front of me and wastes no time in taking a bite. “Please, Lot. Harry and I are far too sophisticated for sleepovers.” She wolfs down half her donut. “We prefer the termadult recreational evening.”

Suze chortles at the thought.“Is that what the kids are calling it these days? We used to call it getting lucky.”

“Not that it’s anyone’s beeswax”—Carlotta continues, gulping down another quick bite—“but we ended up at the casino down in Leeds and got lucky there.” She waggles her eyebrows. “As in we found a dark corner and got lucky with each other. Then I won three hundred bucks at the slots—turns out, I’m good at pulling things.”

Lily nearly chokes on her shamrock shake.

“I think those four-leaf clover cookies are really starting to pay off, Lot,” Carlotta continues, unfazed. “Hand over another dozen, would you? I need all the luck I can get before round two tonight.”

Suze is quick to oblige, packaging up cookies as if her own finances depended on it. Most likely she’s eager to get Carlotta out of the bakery because aside from the morning and afternoon rush, it’s Carlotta who keeps this place on its toes.

“Lottie”—Lily cranes her neck past me—“where’s Lyla Nell today? Don’t tell me you finally enrolled her in preschool.”

“She’s probably in the back,” Suze says with a frown. “Barking orders at the kitchen staff as if she owns the place.” She shakes her head my way. “You and Noah are raising quite the saucy bossy young miss, I’ll have you know. Unlike little Levi and Willow Grace—now those two are simply angels sent straight from heaven.”

Now it’s my turn to frown.

It’s no secret that Suze has never cared for Lyla Nell, and it has more to do with the fact she’s never cared for me than it does anything with my sweet babe. But now that Suze has two other grandchildren under her belt, it’s clear she’ll be favoring them from here on out.

“Suze”—I start—“Levi is eight months old and Willow Grace is eightweeksold. They’ve hardly had a chance to bark out orders at anyone. Besides, Lyla Nell can be an angel when she wants to.”

I bite down on my lip because she is rather expressive about her needs. That’s called confidence, isn’t it?

I glance at Lily. “I haven’t enrolled Lyla Nell for school yet.” I’m about to tell her exactly where Lyla Nell is when Lily starts in.

“Are you kidding? Alex and I have already enrolled Levi,” she’s quick to tell me with a bright green ice cream mustache onher lips from that yummy shamrock shake she’s been teasing me with. “The waitlist is years out. I doubt you’ll ever get Lyla Nell in.”

I suck in a quick breath. Drats. I should’ve jumped at the chance last year when Lainey and Keelie were pressuring me to do it.

“So where is Little Yippy?” Carlotta asks while holding up another whiskey-glazed donut. “Did you finally come to your senses and drop her off at the Honey Hollow Fire Station?”

I make a face. “She’s at the B&B with my mother, insisting on a makeover. I think that birthday party did her more harm than good. It took Noah and me almost an hour to chip the diamonds off her fingers and toes last night. They were choking hazards, you know. But Noah thinks it should be enough to pay for her college fund.”

“Forget the future—it can’t get here soon enough.” Carlotta dismisses with a wave. “I want to talk about the here and now. Where are we headed off to today? Please tell me it’s somewhere with cocktails. Or suspects. Or preferably both. Gin for the win!”

I’d like to know where we’re headed off to myself.

Eliza Baxter, where are you, and what do you know?

I sigh, resting one hand on my belly while the twins do some serious Irish step dancing on my bladder once again.

Out there somewhere between shamrocks and suspects, I have a feeling Eliza Baxter holds the missing piece to this homicide, whether she realizes it or not.

LOTTIE

Isnatch up a shamrock cookie to take the edge off these constant hunger pangs right here in the Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery.

“I think I need to talk to Eliza,” I tell Carlotta in answer to her question. “But I have no idea where to find her. I sent her a text this morning, but she hasn’t answered.”

“I know where you can find her,” Suze says with a smug certainty in her voice that makes me stop mid-bite with my own shamrock cookie.

“You do?” I nibble away, but I don’t dare take my eyes off the know-it-all before me.

“Of course, I do. With a state this size, everyone knows everyone’s business.” She flips the bangs out of her eyes. “She’s headed to the Leprechaun Jubilee out in Fallbrook this afternoon.”

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