That’s one handbag-shaped mystery solved. But let’s be honest. I can’t help but wonder if it leads to another far more homicidal mystery.
A woman from the group—Tamsin, the athletic one with the fitness studio—walks past us and Blaire’s entire demeanor shifts like someone flipped a switch.
“Hey, Tamsin,” she calls out, her voice dripping with a faux sweetness. “Love the shoes. They’re so practical.”
“Thank you,” Tamsin says with a frown.Why can I feel another zinger coming?
Blaire’s lips curve with the hint of a sly smile. “It’s so brave of you to choose function over fashion.”
And there it is,Tamsin muses to herself as she blows past us. Tamsin flinches and keeps walking, and I watch Blaire’s smile widen.These people wouldn’t last five minutes in my world. Real society. They’re all just playing dress-up.
I clear my throat. “I guess we’re all getting to that age, aren’t we? Function over fashion is a very real thing,” I say, not feeling bad at allto launch a quasi-barb of my own.
Oh, she didn’t,Blaire thinks as she glares my way. “I guess we are.” She flashes a saccharin smile my way.
Any sympathy I had for her evaporates on the spot. The vulnerability, the warmth, the moment of genuine human connection—all of it was a performance. This is who she really is. Mean for sport. Cruel because she can be.
“Where were we?” Blaire asks, turning back to me like she didn’t just emotionally knife someone.
This woman is one to talk, Bizzy,Fish meows from my lap.Her shoes are ridiculous for a boat. Who wears heels on a yacht? Someone who’s never actually been on a working boat, that’s who.
I nod to Fish before looking back at the woman. “You were telling me about your walk,” I say.
“Was I?” She tilts her head. “I don’t remember. The whole night is rather fuzzy. I was in shock, I suppose.”
“Blaire, what did Brittany have on you? It seems she had dirt on just about everyone,” I say with a laugh like I’m teasing, but I think we both know I’m not.
The question lands like a slap, and Blaire’s smile freezes solid.What does this woman think she knows?
“What did Brittany have on me?” Now it’s her clearing her throat. “Nothing. I’m an open book.”If anyone finds out about my father... about who I really am... about where I actually came from...“Brittany liked to pretend she knew things,” Blaire continues. “She was nothing but drama for attention all the time. That’s all she was, really. Drama in designer clothing.”
I won’t argue with that,Fish mewls.But it doesn’t change the fact we have a murder to solve.
I nod because it’s true.
“Was she planning something for your party?” I ask. “Maybe some kind of surprise announcement?” If I were a betting woman, I’d land one serious chunk of change down in Vegas.
“Oh Bizzy.” Blaire’s sunglasses slip off her face and she catches them before they hit the deck, but just barely. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”Preston’s gambling is nothing compared to the truth about me. Nothing.
The yacht engine changes pitch, and I can feel us turning, heading back toward the marina. Behind us, I can hear people gathering their things, checking phones, making plans for tomorrow.
“Preston seems nice,” I say, like I know of him. And seeing how social media- obsessed these women are, I have a feeling she thinks I should.
For just a second, Blaire’s face softens again. “Preston is wonderful. We’re perfect together.” She sniffs toward the horizon. “Even if some people disagreed.”
That was past tense,Biscuit Gravy gives a sharp bark.
I nod and don’t think I won’t jump on it, too.
“Brittany disagreed?” I ask rather boldly.
“Brittany had concerns. Financial concerns. Ridiculous concerns, really.” She waves it off. “But she did like to stir the pot.”The debt is manageable. Once we’re married, once I have access to my trust fund again, once everything is official...
I’m starting to see the picture. Preston might be marrying her for money. I bet Brittany knew about it. And Blaire either doesn’t know or doesn’t care because Preston’s the ticket to the life she’s built for herself.
I frown at the thought. A woman like Blaire should know she doesn’t need a man toachieve status or anything else.
“Did you argue about that with her last night?”Right before you stabbed her in the back,I want to add but don’t.
