Page 103 of Dead and Breakfast

I’d spent all night wallowing in self-pity, feeling sorry for myself. I’d needed to lick my emotional wounds for a moment, even going so far as to get a pizza from the Italian restaurant and eat it on the front steps of the annexe, staring at the overgrown garden.

I’d needed it.

I’d just found out that the only man I’d ever loved—perhaps stilldidlove, to an extent—was about to father a baby with a woman who’d hated me on sight.

One evening of feeling sorry for myself was allowed.

Whatever I’d done, it’d worked. I’d woken up this morning determined not to be miserable about it. Our relationship was the one bit of my past with Fox Point I was resoundingly holding onto, and now, I was drawing a line there.

I’d said a thousand times that whatever we’d had was done years ago, and this time, I meant it.

Fox Point was my home now. This bed and breakfast was my home. It’d been a bumpy ride to get here, but here was where I was.

Quitting my job was step one. Getting a surveyor into the B&B was step two.

Well, step three.

I wanted lunch first.

It’d taken me longer than I’d liked to send my resignation to my asshole boss which had killed my whole morning, but it was fine.

I was going to get lunch, then go and see Steph.

Yup.

That’s right.

Clearly, I hadn’t learnt my lesson about dropping in on people unannounced, so I was going to do it for the second time in two days and ask my new friend if she’d murdered her husband.

You know. As one did.

Wasn’t that a topic of conversation for all good friendships?

Now, this might have been naïve of me, but I wasn’t scared of Steph. I truly had no fear that she’d hurt me, even if she was the one who’d killed him. Strange considering how violently Declan had been murdered, but if she had done it, it was the culmination of years of abuse and hate that had come out.

What would I do if she admitted that she’d killed him? I had no idea. A part of me knew I’d have to tell the police—not Noah—but at the same time, a part of me didn’t care.

If you asked me, abusers deserved a knife to the lung.

Nobody had asked me, which was probably for the best given I was the one who’d found him.

I drove into the centre of town and parked up, then walked into the high street to get something to eat. I really wasn’t sure what I wanted, so I kind of just walked up and down the street for a few minutes until I turned off and went to the sandwich shop instead.

The Sandwich Spot was one of the best places for a quick lunch in Fox Point, and I got in line behind everyone else who had the same idea as me. Thankfully, the line moved quickly, and I was soon at the front to place my order. It took no more than five minutes for it to be ready, so I took it gratefully and headed back outside.

I’d paid for two hours of parking and since parking cost at least an ovary these days, I walked down to the beach to eat my lunch and think over how and when I should approach Steph.

Thanks to my sleuthing, I knew her address, and I hoped it wouldn’t be as weird if I showed up there as it was yesterday when I arrived at Noah’s.

Granted, I was going to accuse her of murder, so it couldn’t not be weird.

Sigh.

I was a mess.

Chances are she’d be out during the day, so maybe going over this evening was a better idea. I didn’t want to drive all the way to her house only for her to not be there, so that gave me the rest of the afternoon to get my stuff done.

I formulated my plan as I ate.

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