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Everett shoots me a look. “The ex-attorney on your suspect list, Crane Mitchel. I knew that both Bella and Crane were once practicing attorneys before Bella said a thing the night of the murders. I work at the courthouse. I know my people.”
I avert my eyes.
“Where am I?” Carlotta stammers as she struggles to sit up. “Who am I? Where’s my bowling ball?”
A man walks into the room, white coat, dark curly hair, stern expression. His nametag reads Doctor Brunswick.
“Good evening, Ms. Sawyer,” he says a touch too loud directly to the patient, effectively ignoring the rest of us. “The results came back. It looks as if we’re going to have to operate. I’m afraid we’re going to have to remove your brain.”
Lottie gives a quick nod. “It’s for the better.”
The man belts out a laugh. “I’m just kidding. You’re fine, Ms. Sawyer. I’ve already marked you for discharge. The nurse will be here in a minute to finalize things. Enjoy the rest of your evening. And please, steer clear of any falling bowling balls.” He takes off and Lottie takes a moment to glare at the patient among us.
“It’s this darn wreath of mourning,” Carlotta says, plucking the braid of a dead woman off her head. “It’s struck again.”
“I don’t think so,” Everett says, still as stern as ever. “It’s the fact all four of you were somewhere you didn’t belong.”
“I’ll have to agree with that,” I tell them.
Not that I’m happy to agree with Everett about anything.
“Sure. Gang up on us, why don’t you?” Carlotta grunts as Lottie hands her a sundress and she slips it on over her shoulders. “Lot Lot might appreciate that sort of camaraderie between you two behind closed doors, but I take umbrella with it here on my death bed.”
“Umbrage,” Lottie says, glancing up at Everett and me.
“Lottie”—I step in close—“what made you think it was a good idea to head to Leeds and strip down naked to speak with a suspect?”
“You really don’t know her, do you, Foxy?” Carlotta says, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. “Lot Lot here is always looking for an excuse to strip down naked.”
My lips curl, my eyes still trained on hers. “You never need an excuse with me.”
“Good,” Lottie says. “Because then I won’t need to come up with one in order to justify my whereabouts tonight.”
Everett pulls her close. “Or where she’ll be striping down later and with whom.”
I glare at the guy for going there.
“While we’re waiting for the official discharge—” I nod for the two of them to step to the side while Miranda helps steady Carlotta on the bed. “The narcotics division is feeling rather victorious.”
“What does that mean?” Lottie’s chest bucks and loosens with her every breath. “Noah, my eyes are up here.”
Everett clears his throat.
“Sorry.” I wince. “It means that they’re not interested in looking for the real perpetrator. They think it might be Charlie and they got their man—or woman in this case.”
“What?” Lottie screeches. “Noah, how can that be?”
“Because as fate would have it, your sister has a rap sheet longer than my arm. And some of those previous charges include drug possession. She’s a no-brainer when it comes to suspects, let alone the dealer herself. They’re getting ready to throw the book at her. This is bad, Lottie.”
“I’ll say.” She drops her face in her hands a moment.
“It’s not bad, Noah,” Everett growls. “Way to make her worry incessantly.” He rubs her back. “Don’t worry, Lemon, I have everything under control.”
I lift my brows his way, and he nods as if assuring me this was true.
“Get ready to jump through a litany of legal hoops,” I tell him. “While juggling bowling pins that are on fire.”
I don’t care how powerful Everett believes he is, this is going to prove mission impossible even for him.
