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They’re both well apprised of how delicious my babka can be.
“All right,” Noah says, taking an extra-large bite out of a slice of pizza and wolfing it down. “Let’s check it out. I’m just as hungry to see what’s in the bag.”
“I’m in,” Everett says, putting down a box of Kung Pao chicken.
And considering that’s not only his favorite dish, but the fact he’s half-starved lets me know just how curious he is as well.
We make our way over to the living room where Noah puts on a pair of rubber gloves. Even though we’ve already technically tampered with the evidence, he’s not taking any chances going forward.
Pancake, Waffles, and Toby have all gathered around to look at the display. It’s as if they have an understanding of how important the contents of that bag can be.
A spray of miniature stars appears to my left as the cutest little dachshund you ever did see materializes before me.
“What did I miss?” he chirps as he floats from Carlotta to me.
“Nothing yet,” Carlotta tells him. “You showed up just in time. We were just one bun short of a hot dog.” She pulls him close and cradles him. “You complete me.”
I make a face at her.
“Teeny Weenie is here,” I tell Noah and Everett.
“No, he’s not.” Carlotta winks my way. “The truth is, Lot’s been calling you both Teeny Weenie behind your backs for years now.”
“Oh, stop.” I avert my eyes at the thought. “I have never said anything like that. I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a liar, and I happen to know that neither of these men has a teeny wee—” I cringe as both Noah and Everett look slightly horrified at the abrupt turn the conservation just took. “Never mind. Let’s see what’s in the bag.” I nod to the poltergeist among us. “Weenie, this is a bag full of Bella’s things.”
“Bella’s things?” He flies in a circle until he lands next to the plump navy duffle bag. “I hope it’s chock-full of my favorite toys. I once had a little sunflower that squeaked. And oh, how I loved that thing.”
“Okay,” Noah says, pulling back the zipper on the bag painfully slowly. “Let’s not get excited if we don’t hit paydirt. And I mean that in relation to the case.”
“Sure, you do, Foxy.” Carlotta chuckles while rubbing her greedy little hands together. “We all know if we open it up to find stacks of one hundred dollar bills, we’ll have to split it ten, ten, ten, and seventy.”
“Let me guess.” I shake my head at her. “You get the seventy?”
She narrows her eyes my way. “Consider it a start if you want me to keep my trap shut.”
“Onward.” Everett motions to Noah. “I’ve got a phone call in the morning with the governor.”
“The governor of Vermont?” My mouth falls open at the thought. “Everett, that’s huge! What do you think he wants?”
“To personally arrest you?” Carlotta looks gobsmacked despite her ludicrous question.
“To personally congratulate me, I hope.” He ticks his head. “We’ll find out soon enough.”
“And we’re about to find out what’s hiding behind this zipper,” Noah says, unzipping the bag as far as it can go.
“Come on, Foxy.” Carlotta speeds him along with her hand. “Lot already knows what you got hiding behind your zipper. Weren’t you paying attention to that whole Teeny Weenie thing? We want to know what’s in the bag.”
Noah’s dimples dig in deep, no smile, as he pulls the bag open and inspects it.
“I see a few notebooks.” He extracts two blue composition books. “And true to Marlena’s word, these are filled with notes about a small-town mystery. I’ll have Ivy pore over this when she gets a chance in the event there’s a solid clue we can use somewhere in here.”
“Who cares about the dry reading Frisky Fairbanks is about to endure.” Carlotta jumps in her seat. “You’re about to get to the good stuff, Foxy. I can feel it.”
“I can feel something, too,” he says, pulling out what looks like a hot pink rubber microphone.
“What in the world?” I ask, leaning in to inspect it just as Noah pulls a smaller unit, pink yet again, from the bag and this one is double-pronged. “Wait a minute…”
My fingers fly to my lips as I quickly piece together what these objects are used for. They’re implements indeed—naughty implements.
