“Please.” Blaire groans. “That was the last thing I ever wanted to discuss with her.”
“Well, do you know if Brittany had any disagreements with anyone else?”
“No, but if you really want to know anything about Brittany, you should talk to Sloane.”
“Sloane?” I quickly scan the boat until I spot the redhead laughing and chatting it up with Mackenzie. And shockingly, Mackenzie looks like she’s having a good time for once. Miracles do happen, I suppose.
“Sloane and Brittany were thick as thieves lately,” Blaire goes on. “Always whispering, always having private conversations. If anyone knew what Brittany was planning, it was Sloane.” She adjusts her blazer.If only I knew more, then maybe things wouldn’t have had to turn out the way they did.Her expression sours with the thought. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a party to perfect.”
She starts to walk away, then pauses. “Oh, and Bizzy? That outfit is very,” she takes a moment to bleed a dark smile, “comfortable looking.”
Oh, for goodness’ sake. These women can’t go ten steps without trying to make someone feel bad about their lives.
But before I can respond, Georgie appears from behind a deck chair like a kaftan-wearing ninja.
“So what did our killer say?” she shouts at full volume, loud enough to compete with the wind. “Did she confess to stabbing her bestie in the back, in front of her face?”
I frown over at my octogenarian bestie.
My face is pure undiluted horror. But thankfully no one seems to notice.
“Because I’ve been watching,” Georgie continues, pulling out her phone, “and she touched her necklace seventeen times. That’s a clear murderous tell. I saw it onCriminal Minds.”
Mom materializes beside her. “Georgie, we talked about this.”
“We talked about a lot of things. Doesn’t mean I listened.”
Georgie aims her phone at Blaire. “Say cheese! I’m documenting the investigation for my podcast.”
“Your WHAT?” Blaire takes a step back.
“Murder and Mischief with Georgie. Episode one: “Rich Girls and Dead Bodies.” My daughter, Juni, is helping me set it up. We’re going to make a killing. Get it? A killing!”
She snaps a photo of Blaire’s horrified expression, and I have to give it to her—it’s a good shot. Pure terror mixed with indignation.
Blaire flees toward the safety of the group, her heels clicking against the deck.
Mom sighs. “You don’t have a podcast.”
“I do now. Minus the sponsorships.” Georgie grins. “Juni thinks it’s a great idea. Said we could sell ad space to local businesses. Maybe get the inn involved. This murder is brought to you by the Country Cottage Inn, where you can check in but you might not check out.”
I want to be on the podcast,Sherlock says with a hopeful bark.Do I get treats for being on podcasts?
Only if you’re the one that bit the big one,Fish says with a swipe of her paw.
This family is chaos and I’m here for it,Biscuit Gravy adds with a yelp.
We are family more or less, and we are certainly pure chaos.
We’re never solving this murder if Georgie keeps terrorizing suspects,Fish notes.But I have to admit, it is entertaining.
I watch Blaire rejoin the safety of her pack, still visibly shaken. She’s hiding something big—multiple somethings, probably—and the handbag is damning, the alibi is weak, and the motive is strong enough to build a case on.
But here’s the thing about Blaire Kensington—I have a feeling if she killed Brittany Vanderbilt, she wouldn’t have left evidence behind. She would have planned it down to the last detail, hired someone else to do it, and had an airtight alibi involving at least three witnesses and a timestamped selfie.
Unless, of course, red-hot rage won out over careful planning and an Insta Pictures perfect life.
Murder is messy, and I’m starting to wonder if someone like Blaire dabbles in messy.
