Of course I’m not the first person sniffing around for information. No doubt the media and an assortment of amateur detectives have already been by. So this is when I somehow endear myself to them. This part of the process is usually left to Muriel or Hana. They both have better people skills. Less of awarning: possible psycho killerattached to their name and/or face.
But Harper raises their gaze from the screen and stops cold at the sight of me. “Oh. It’s you. Sidney, right?”
“Yeah. Hi.”
They stare at me for a moment. Then their gaze flits around the room before settling on me once more. Checking no one is nearby or listening into our conversation. Like the band’s rousing rendition of “Jolene” would allow for such a thing.
“She came down here to complain about the towels,” says Harper, leaning in and lowering their voice. “It was about this time of night. I don’t know what she expected me to do about it. They’re okay quality, but this isn’t the Hilton.”
I just nod.
“Her phone rang, and she answered it on speaker. The woman on the phone was pissed off. Told her to take her off speaker. Then your cousin said, ‘Why are you calling me? I did what you wanted.’”
“Huh.”
“That’s all I can tell you. It’s the same thing I told the police.”
“Was she young or old, do you think? The person who called her?”
“Not a clue. There was a band playing that night too. I couldn’t hear well enough to tell you anything more. But your cousin, she wasn’t happy. I mean, she was already upset aboutthe towels. Then hearing from this person made her mouth do the puckered thing. You know what I mean?”
“I know what you mean.”
“The cops still have her room sealed and some of her stuff in there. But I can’t show it to you, sorry.”
“I don’t want to get you into any trouble. Thank you for talking to me.”
“Sure. For what it’s worth, I don’t think you killed those women,” says Harper. “I’ve watched a ton of reels about it and honestly I just don’t get that vibe from you.”
“Thanks.”
They just nod. “You’re welcome.”
“I think you can do anything you set your mind to,” says Noah later that night. “Is that the correct supportive response?”
“Not a clue. I’ve never actually figured out what I’m supposed to say. I mean, I guess it’s good that I don’t look like a homicidal maniac. But anyone could probably kill given the right circumstances, right?”
“I am going to go with noncommittal on this one. It’ll help me sleep better at night.”
“Fair enough.”
He gives me an amused glance as we wander down the street, away from home. Amusing this man just might be my new favorite thing. Being someone who brings a smile to his face.
Both Auggie and I needed a walk. To be out in the fresh night air brings a welcome reprieve. Clouds cover most of the sky, with stars peeking through here and there. And a cool breeze is blowing in from the north. We’re heading into sweater weather. Noah didn’t like the idea of us going on our own, and I love being in his company, so this is a win all round. He holds both the leash and my hand.
“Probably a good thing you don’t have murdery vibes,” he says eventually.
“I think so. What’s a murdery vibe anyway?”
“What did you find out at the hotel?”
“Not much,” I say. “An angry woman called her on the phone. Grace answered, ‘What do you want? I’ve already done what you asked.’”
He frowns.
“It doesn’t sound related to the cancelled wedding. She said something about the podcasters not being the only ones willing to pay right before I threw her out. But I don’t know who she meant. Some other media outlets maybe?”
“Hmm.”
