“No gym members coming or going?”
“Not that I saw.”
He nods, making a note on his phone. “The front desk said Tamsin had been in her office all morning. She left around noon, came back at one, and hasn’t been seen since.”
“So she was killed sometime after one,” Georgie says.
“Looks that way.” Leo glances back at Jasper. “We’re pulling interior security footage now, but?—”
“But the exterior cameras were disabled,” I finish.
Leo’s eyebrows go up. “How did you know that?”
“Lucky guess.” I sigh, looking at the building with its useless security camera pointing right at us.
“That’s not a guess,” Leo muses. “That’s specific knowledge.”
“Fine. It’s an educated hypothesis based on the fact that whoever’s doing this is smart enough not to get caught on camera.”
Leo studies me for a moment, then nods and heads back to confer with the other deputies.
Georgie pulls out her phone again and begins filming the scene with the dedication of someone who’s found her calling.
“Georgie,” I hiss. “Put that away.”
“Are you kidding? This is gold, Bizzy. Pure investigative journalism gold.”
“It’s exploitative,” I say, trying to bat her phone down but she pulls it out of reach.
“It’s documentary evidence.”
“It’s going to get you arrested.”
She keeps filming anyway. Georgie Conner has never backed down fromanything in fear of handcuffs.
Mom is still sitting on the curb, looking pale despite her newly acquired tan, and I’m about to sit down next to her when I hear tires on asphalt and look up to see Mackenzie’s white SUV pulling into the lot at a speed that screams either emergency or entitlement.
The door flies open and Mackenzie comes running across the parking lot in designer workout wear—white crop top, matching leggings with mesh panels, and sneakers that look straight out of the box. Her hair is in a high ponytail that bounces with each step.
And behind her, jumping out of the car before she can stop them, are Fish, Sherlock, and Biscuit Gravy.
Of course, she found another one,Fish announces, trotting over to me.It’s Tuesday. This is what she does on Tuesdays.
It’s not Tuesday, but I get the point.
We left you alone for THREE HOURS,Sherlock adds, deeply offended.Three hours and you find a dead person. How does this keep happening to you?
Does this mean no dinner?Biscuit Gravy asks, genuinely worried.
“What are you all doing here?” I ask, staring at the pets.
Mom stands up. “How did you know to come?”
Mackenzie skids to a stop in front of us, breathing hard, her phone clutched in one hand. “It’s all over social media.”
“Who would post this to social media so quickly?” Mom squawks, turning to glare at Georgie.
Georgie fumbles with her phone and buries it deep in her purse, feigning innocence so badly a child could see through it. “What?”
