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“Don’t be. I’m the one that should be apologizing.”

Everett’s chest expands. “It’s okay, Lemon. There’s still a fifty percent chance you have nothing to worry about.”

Carlotta cackles like a madwoman. “All right, you three, step on over and inspect the latest candle sensation for all of your kinky needs.” She holds her hands out at the row of candles flickering in turn. And I can’t help but note an odd sight behind her.

“Carlotta? Why is there a grocery cart full of candles in the kitchen?”

“How else am I supposed to get these into the ballroom? It’s my new schtick.” She broadens her chest with a touch of pride. “Now that it’s the spendiest time of the year, I thought I’d double up on my business ventures. Aside from A Whole Lotta Touchin’—my snazzy in-van massage service—I thought I’d jump into the scented candle game. They’re infused with essential oils, and I’ve got a candle for whatever ails you. Got a sore arm, Judge Baxter? Try Eucalyptus You Right Up. Got a broken heart, Foxy? Try A Hot Night with a Blonde. All the candles have fun and flirty names. And coincidentally, they all have the potential to lead to a fun and flirty good time, too.”

A Whole Lotta Touchin’ is indeed the hot oil massage business Carlotta runs out of her van. And yes, it’s just as skeezy as it sounds.

And I’m the one they hauled to the sheriff’s station last month? Pfft.

I’m about to ask her to put the candles out and help me carry the rest of my desserts out into the ballroom when from the corner of my eye I see something skipping right through an entire row of my eggnog trifles. I turn that way and, horror upon horrors, I spot a tiny brown mouse jumping from one creamy confection to the next and I lose it.

“AAAGGHHHHH!” The scream shrills from me. Instinctually, I swipe up a wooden broom sitting to my right and wield it like a weapon. The tiny little mouse stops dead in its tracks, and I’d swear on all that is holy, it just looked at me with a worrisome expression. In fact, its little front paws are hovering over its mouth as if it were genuinely concerned, and it should be.

Another scream rips from me as I try to lunge for it, but it jumps down the counter and heads straight over to Noah where it runs up his shoulder before bouncing onto his head.

I aim that broom for Noah’s head while screaming as if my hair were on fire. I do my level best to swat it off of Noah’s face and Noah does his best to deflect my every move as he lets a couple of salty expletives fly.

“Lemon,” Everett riots. “Keep it up. He’s still standing.”

“Everett,” Noah barks. “It’s not funny. Get that thing away from her.” He tries to duck, but I continue to do my best to shoo that rodent off of him.

Sure enough, the little furball jumps up on the island, threading its way around the candles, and I bat at it, inadvertently setting the tip of the bristles aflame.

Carlotta is screaming, too—albeit with laughter—while Everett and Noah take a defensive position as they try to coax me into giving up my flaming weapon.

The tiny mouse leaps from the counter and right onto Everett’s chest as I swing the broom his way, leaving a trail of sparks in my wake.

Everett lets a few expletives fly himself as he jumps out of the way.

“What the hell is going on, Lemon?” he shouts, trying to get ahold of the broom, but I lift it out of his grasp.

“MOUUUUUSSSE!” The word streams from my throat as sharp as a razor as I swat and swing just as the mouse jumps my way and lands right—through me—leaving a plume of red and green miniature stars trailing after it. “Oh my God.” I gasp as the rest of the broom lights up like a flame thrower, and I quickly toss it to my left—inadvertently directly onto a rack of dishtowels, and the entire thing goes up in flames like a Roman candle.

Noah quickly grabs the fire extinguisher and does his best to put it out while Everett pulls me away from the fiery ground zero.

“Lemon”—his chest flexes wildly as he pants my name out—“I didn’t see a mouse.”

Noah comes over with his hair mussed and his suit in disarray. “I didn’t either,” he says as he struggles to catch his breath.

“Well, I did,” Carlotta says with a greasy grin on her face. “And I can testify that thing was one hundred percent dead as a Christmas doornail.”

“A ghost.” I nod.

“That’s right,” Noah says. “And that means one thing.”

Everett glances out to the crowd just past the kitchen. “It means a killer is afoot.”

The snow is falling, the carolers are singing, and it’s beginning to look a lot like murder.

Chapter 2

The Jingle Hop Ball is going full swing as Noah, Everett, and I set the last of the eggnog trifles onto the dessert table.

That little mystic mouse that nearly caused me to burn down the Evergreen Manor has the three of us on tactical alert for the next potential homicide hidden in our midst.

Noah is already on the phone with his partner at the homicide division, Detective Ivy Fairbanks.

“Yes, I have a hunch you’ll be needed.” His voice is rough as he talks into his phone. “Look, Ivy, you need to get down here right away. I’ve already called for extra patrol.” He glances my way. “Yes, Lottie is here.” He offers an uneasy smile my way, and I distinctly hear a female voice from the other end of the line say, “Oh, for Pete’s sake.”

He holds up the phone. “She’s on her way.” Noah sweeps the crowded room with a glance. “I’m going to do a quick inspection of the grounds. Everett, do not leave Lottie’s side. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He points my way.

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