Charlotte is not at all calm. Red billows from her eyes. Smoke curls from her nostrils. She’s a cartoon character about to blow. “I will kill him now. With a pointy candy cane. Cousin Troy probably has a duffel bag full.” “No doubt, but Brady is not worth the murder rap. Trust me.” She crosses her arms fiercely. “Leo will kill him. Now. Tonight.” “Yeah, that won’t cause any problems for your wedding at all if your groom becomes the candy cane killer,” I say dryly.
