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an entire garden.

“Come on, let’s poke around,” I whisper. “That hide-a-key rock has to be here somewhere.” I already filled them in on what my mother told me before we got into Mayor Nash’s car, and soon the three of us are elbows deep in begonias, ferns, spider plants, and most likely real spiders, too.

Carlotta grunts, “I got nothin’, Lot.”

“Me either,” I whisper.

“I got something.” Charlie hoists up a smooth tan stone in her hand. “Bingo!” she riots.

“Would you shush?” I say as I tiptoe over and take the rock from her. “Let’s get the key and get inside before anyone spots us.” I pull the rubber cork out from the bottom, and to my horror there’s nothing in it. “It’s empty!” I riot just as loud, if not louder, than Charlie just did. “She must have forgotten to put the key back the last time she used it. Now what?”

Charlie glances back at the house. “Now we get creative. Follow me.” She takes off down the stairs and Carlotta pulls me back for a second.

“You might want to take notes, Lot. Cha Cha knows a thing or two when it comes to being sneaky. That’s why we gotta get rid of her. She’s dangerous. Why do you think she’s making friends with all the wrong people? Greer Giles? Naomi? Cormack Featherhead?”

I make a face. “You’ve got a point there, but I don’t think she’s dangerous.”

“Have it your way. But Cha Cha will gut you before you ever notice you’re bleeding. She might look like an angel, but she’s an agent of the hot place through and through.”

“That’s a terrible thing to say, Carlotta. And when we get a chance, we’re going to talk about this dropping out of school business. I can’t believe you let her get away with that.”

Charlie blinks back to life at the bottom of the steps and there’s a purple glow around her shoulders as our favorite spectral skunk wags her tail back and forth my way as if she were waving.

“I’m afraid the whoopie pies are no more, Lottie Lemon. They were a bit dry if you ask me.” The furry cutie hiccups and it sounds like a cork pulling away from a bottle of champagne. And the only reason on God’s green earth that anything in my bakery was dry would be because someone—more than likely named Suze—didn’t seal up the leftover bin properly. “I just had to see what all the hullabaloo was about. And to think it was the very last thing my poor Terri ate. I think she could have done better.”

I scoff as Carlotta and I follow Charlie around the back of the house. We try every window, but not one of them gives. The back door is firmly bolted shut and suddenly we’re all out of options.

“Well”—I try to catch my breath as I look at the fortress before us—“I guess that’s a wrap. There’s no way in.”

A dull moan comes from Binky as she slinks down to the ground and runs right up the stairs leading to the back door and runs right through a rather small doggie door.

She pokes her head back out at us. “I really didn’t think I’d have to demonstrate that for you.”

“Binky!” I give a small squeal. “Try to unlock the door.”

“I did. There’s some sort of a bond over it. I can’t do it.”

I huff at the thought. “I bet the powers that be have something against the idea of making my life easy.”

Charlie snorts. “More like the powers that be have something against you partaking in illegal activity.”

“I guess it really is quitting time,” I say.

“What?” Carlotta honks. “I didn’t raise you to be no quitter, Lottie Lemon.”

“That’s because you didn’t raise me,” I’m quick to point out.

“Pfft.” Charlie folds her arms over her chest. “You had Carlotta two consecutive years in a row. That plenty qualifies as her raising you. I only got her in increments.”

I shake my head over at the mother in question. “I am not even going there right now.”

“Nope.” Carlotta spins me toward the back door. “You’re going there.”

“You’re dreaming,” I say. “That’s hardly big enough for Noah’s dog. And I think we all know I’m much bigger than Toby. You go in, Charlie. You’re the smallest.”

“It’s your investigation. I just bet you’d love to pin this little breaking and entering scheme of yours all on me. I heard the two of you scheming to get rid of me just a few minutes ago,” she snarls right at us. “Well, I’ve got news for you. It’s not happening.”

“Fine. I’ll go.” I toss my hands up. “Hold this,” I say, giving Carlotta my wadded up silk blouse. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Don’t worry, Lot.” Carlotta nudges me toward the door. “You’ll do just fine. I’m sure Mr. Sexy has gotten you in a tight pickle or two before. Just wiggle your body and you’ll slither inside in no time.”

“Slither inside,” I say under my breath as I get on all fours and—OH!

For some reason, my slow leak has turned into an all-out runny faucet.

“What’s that noise?” Charlie whispers. “Carlotta, are her boobs peein’ again?”

“Looks like it.” Carlotta clucks her tongue. “On the bright side, the neighborhood cats are in for a treat.”

“Geez.” I crawl over to the dog door, poke my head inside, and to my delight, Binky is glowing so bright she’s practically acting as a night-light. From what I can see, the kitchen looks fairly spotless. There’s a bowl on the counter and a box of cereal next to it, and my heart breaks at the sight. That’s probably the last thing Terri ate before leaving for church that day.

“Go on, Lot!” Carlotta hisses from the other side. “The night’s not getting any younger and neither am I.”

I manage to pull my shoulders through one at a time, and just when I think this is going to be as easy as pumpkin pie, my rear blocks the rest of my passage. I pull,

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