Is there food at the end of this?Sherlock sounds hopeful.Where is Georgie? She always has a pocket full of bacon!
Focus,Fish hisses.
Sloane sees us approaching. She turns, champagne glass still in hand, her white sundress catching the glow from the nearest tiki torch, her hair glowing like a flame. She looks completely relaxed, almost amused, like we’re about to share some harmless gossip instead of accuse her of double homicide.
“Bizzy, Mackenzie.” She smiles that perfect toothy smile. “What can I do for you ladies?”
“We need to talk,” I say, panting from the trek over. “About Brittany. And Tamsin.”
Her smile doesn’t waver. “Of course. What about them?”
I take a breath. “I know about Fletcher-Ramsey. The fraud complaints. The investigations. And I know Brittany was building a case against you.”
For just a second, something flickers across her face. Then the smile returns, far cooler than it was before.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She lifts her glass like she’s toasting us.
“Yes, you do,” Mackenzie says. “And so did Tamsin. That’s why you killed her, too.”
Sloane laughs like we just told her the most ridiculous joke she’s ever heard. “You think I killed them?” She shakes her head, still smiling. “That’s quite an accusation, ladies.”
BOOM.
The sky detonates into a low rumble. The first firework explodes overhead—a massive red burst that paints Sloane’s face crimson and makes the entire beach gasp and cheer in unison.
The music swells from the speakers, something patriotic and bombastic, and every single person in Cider Cove turns to watch the sky light up.
We’re alone out here by the boulders with a killer, and no one is paying attention.
Perfect.
“We know what you did,” I say.
Sloane sips her champagne. “Do you? How enlightening. Please share.”
BOOM.
White fireworks cascade across the sky, sparkling down like rain.
“Brittany was investigating your business,” Mackenzie says, and her voice is steadier than I expected. “Your scam.”
“That’s quite an accusation.” Sloane’s expression doesn’t falter. She’s still calm, still very much in control.
She’s standing too still,Fish mewls, circling Sloane’s feet.Hoomans who stand this still are either predators or prey.
Should we bite her now?Biscuit Gravy asks.
Wait for the signal,Sherlock says.
All three of them are crouched, ready, and I’ve never been more grateful for backup that weighs less than thirty pounds combined.
“Brittany found the complaints, didn’t she?” I ask. “Forty clients you scammed. Deposits taken, work never finished, subcontractors left unpaid. You and Travis collected over two million dollars from peoplewho trusted you. There were articles that stated as much. You’re already under investigation.”
Sloane shrugs. “They were business disputes. It happens all the time.”
BOOM.
Blue fireworks spread across the sky in concentric circles and the crowd gives a collective ooh.
