Page 63 of Twice Baked Risky Whiskey Cakes

Everett raises a brow. His eyes sharpen, the way they always do when he senses something is up. The man didn’t become a success in the legal field by missing subtle cues.

“What’s going on?” he growls. “Is it the twins? Is Lemon in labor?” His eyes round out as a genuine panic begins to set in.

“No,” I’m quick to let him off the hook in that respect. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about,” I begin, wincing slightly. This isn’t a conversation I want to have in the middle of a parade, but the investigation isn’t slowing down for the festivities. “It’s about your mother.”

EVERETT

Iblink at Noah, trying to process what he might have to say. “What about my mother?”

The words come out like a threat, but I can’t help it. Half the time I’m near Noah, a part of me wants to threaten him.

He winces. “She came into my office last week,” he says, his voice low despite the noise from the parade. “She said she had a confession to make.”

My temper flares instantly. “Aconfession? Are you trying to tell me my mother confessed to killing Sebastian Gallagher? And you’re just now getting around to telling me about it?”

Noah shakes his head quickly. “No. She confessed to something far more personal.” He sighs hard and glances across the street where my mother stands talking with Evie. “Look, I told her she needed to tell you what she told me. She said she would. But clearly she hasn’t. And push has come to shove. I’m going to have to do an internal investigation on her. She was found holding the murder weapon. It’s just better for everyone involved that you know the truth as soon as possible. Why don’t we track her down? I think this is as good a time as any.”

He starts to move, but I grab his sleeve. “We’re not going anywhere. Start talking, Noah, before I shake the answers out of you myself.”

A float passes by, blasting “Danny Boy” at a volume that makes conversation nearly impossible. We stand in strained silence until it passes, and the scent of corned beef and cabbage from a nearby food truck momentarily distracts me.

“Start talking,” I bark.

Noah sighs once again. “Your mother confessed to being married before she was hitched to your father. She was married to Sebastian Gallagher for a year. The man took off with a pile of her money and never looked back. Eliza said she was so humiliated she never spoke of it again.”

The ground seems to shift beneath me. I stagger back, bumping into someone wearing enough green beads to sink them in the lake.

“And she saw him for the first time that night? The night of the murder?” I ask, already calculating the implications.

Noah nods. “She says she had words with him, but she didn’t kill him. She said she wanted to, but someone beat her to it. When she saw him lying there with a knife in his chest, she said she plucked it out because she wanted him to live. She wanted to finish telling him a thing or two. She seemed to think that him dying was the easy way out.”

I close my eyes for a moment in an effort to collect myself. “That sounds like my mother.”

The parade continues around us, a riot of green and noise that stands in stark contrast to the cold reality settling in my chest. My mother was married to the murder victim. She was found holding the murder weapon. The evidence is circumstantial but damning.

I straighten as I scan the crowd. “Does Lemon know?”

“I don’t think so,” Noah replies, but I detect the uncertainty in his voice.

We make our way to the bakery, pushing through revelers who are oblivious to the investigation unfolding in their midst. The smell of sugar and warm cinnamon rolls envelops us as we approach, but there’s no sign of Lemon inside or out.

I blow out a breath. “Lemon may not know about my mother’s history with the deceased, but I promise you she knows something. In fact, she might just be with the killer as we speak.”

Noah’s hand moves to his gun as he looks around. “Let’s go. We don’t have a second to waste.”

The implications hit me like a blow.

My wife, nine months pregnant with twins, could be in danger.

My mother, the most composed person I know, could be facing a murder charge.

And somewhere in this sea of green, a killer roams free.

LOTTIE

The crowd around me blurs into a sea of green as I try to process what Keegan just revealed.

AscientistSebastian dated.

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