Claire left, leaving her mug on the counter, the coffee now cold. Belle sat lost in thought over all the two women shared intentionally and unintentionally. Belle knew little about love, but she knew it wasn’t always about giving someone the cold, hard truth; it also wasn’t about coddling someone.

  The click of heels sounded on the kitchen floor. Gladys entered, arms full of groceries. “Don’t you believe one word either of these women tell you. All the women in Molly’s life were jealous of her. It was impossible not to be. I was, too. Molly shut both of them out for good reason.”

  “And what reason was that?” Lucas walked in from the office.

  “Because she didn’t trust either of them,” Gladys stated. “And because I’m the one she spilled her guts to.”

  “I think we need to talk.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Lucas didn’t mind talking to Gladys right in the kitchen. Instinct told him that if she was most comfortable here, she might be more apt to share what she knew.

  “Molly confided in you?” he asked.

  Gladys opened her mouth to talk, then closed it, hesitating. She clearly liked to fiddle with her glasses when she needed an excuse to think, and that was what she did now. She pulled them off her face, rubbed them clean with a small cloth from her pocket, then put them back on. “I wouldn’t call it confiding.”

  “What would you call it then?” he asked, annoyed if this was already leading nowhere. Sometimes, people liked to think they were the key to the murder or crime being solved when really, they had nothing.

  “It was more like a stream of consciousness. Like every thought that popped into her head, she spit out in long rambling sentences. That woman talked about warm beer and that’s how much Chase was worth. Something about throwing it in his face. Let me tell you, Molly could talk. She loved to talk.”

  “What came before the beer-throwing?” he asked.

  Gladys started unloading groceries. There were croissants and pastries, bagels, cream cheese, smoked salmon, and fresh fruit. “That part is easy. Molly suspected Chase was cheating on her.”

  “From what Claire and Susie said, Molly had withdrawn from talking to them. Something was upsetting her. Claire hoped to find out what it was this weekend,” Belle said.

  “Yes, forgive me if what I know comes out disjointed, but Molly didn’t give it to me all in order. She did think Chase was cheating. That’s right, and oh my gawd, she told me everything, and between me and you, it was way too much info, if you know what I mean. But honestly, that’s what happens when you plan events for the wealthy. Some tell you nothing. But the unhinged tell you everything.”

  “You thought Molly was unhinged?” Lucas asked. That was not the impression he received about Molly in the last day.

  “Well, maybe not unhinged, but emotionally all over the map. Okay, I’ll try to put the events in order. She basically stalked the guy”—she pulled out Greek yogurt next, with granola and honey. She turned to them—“I have the best recipe for homemade granola, but don’t bother asking for it.”

  “We won’t. But about Molly?” he prodded.

  “Oh, right. She downright spied on him. She talked about being some kind of detective, about watching from her car, and something about donuts and sprinkles getting smashed into the seat of her car. Like I said, she could talk.” She moved to the next bag and withdrew a carton of eggs and cheddar cheese. “Just you wait. I make the best scrambled eggs. So light and fluffy.”

  “So, she spied on him…” And Gladys thought Molly could ramble?

  “She told me she followed him to a bar, and she saw his guy friends, so then she felt terribly guilty, like the worst girlfriend ever—her words, not mine. She went home and got all dolled up to meet him there. Anyway”—Gladys took her attention off the food piling up on the counter and looked directly at him and Belle—“Later that same evening at the bar, she caught him cheating. Molly ordered the cheapest beer they had and waltzed over and threw it in his face. The ultimate humiliation.”

  “Who was he with?” Now that could be a motive for both Chase and the woman he was with. Love is a powerful motivator. Same with humiliation.

  “See, that’s the thing. The other woman never showed her face. Molly stood behind the woman, but she swore the woman had dark hair to the shoulders and maybe wore a red dress, but really, the state Molly was in, who knows?” She fumbled around in the cabinets, finally pulling out a fry pan and a bowl. She cracked eggs into it. “All I know is that Molly was suspicious of everyone. She knew people were jealous of the love she and Chase had—again, her words. She shut down when it came to her friends.” Gladys let out a long sigh. “You’d be surprised what an earful I get at these events. I’m a nobody to these people, a convenient sounding board. Someone outside their social circle so they can blab all their secrets to me.”

  “Do you know anything about Chase Holloway?” Belle asked, as she moved toward the coffeepot and refilled her and Lucas’ mugs. He flashed her a grateful look and mouthed, thank you.

  Crack went about ten more eggs. Then Gladys turned, her back against the counter, bowl in her arm, and she whisked. Lucas had never seen someone whisk eggs so fast. He was hoping to catch some hints for his own egg-making, as he was still perfecting the art of cooking for Lexie.

  “That’s the thing. The Holloways do not run in wealthy circles. I can’t tell you much about them. I know Molly didn’t want Chase here this weekend. We video-chatted to finalize the menu because she couldn’t decide between cheesecake and hot fudge sundaes for dessert. Chase showed up and was begging like a schoolboy caught stealing licorice from a convenient store. He pleaded while Molly was talking to me, trying to ignore him. When she spoke louder to me, he started shouting to pay attention to him.” She stopped whisking for a moment. “It was disturbing. He was quite angry.”

  Lucas continued the list of mental notes for when he talked to Chase. There was the cheating and the name of this mystery woman. Was it possible it was Claire? It often was the best friend. Wouldn’t be the first time. Though Claire didn’t seem the type. There was the fact that Molly had shut her out. Maybe deep-down Molly suspected her friend. Sounded like Chase had an anger management problem. He remembered the icy glare Molly had given Chase the day before.

  “Here’s what I know.” Gladys had continued whisking and now stopped. She held out the bowl. “See this froth. See the texture. That’s one secret behind my scrambled eggs.”

  “Noted,” Lucas said. “What do you know?”

  “Right. I know everyone thinks Chase has money. He doesn’t. If he did, I’d know. Or the pockets don’t run deep. I can tell these things about people. It’s the polished way he acts. Oh yes, he’s a charmer, but it’s a polish that I’d say comes from watching the wealthy and how they act, then putting it into practice.”

  “You think some women might have dated him because of his supposed wealth?” Belle asked.

  Gladys waved the whisk, and flecks of the egg batter went everywhere. “Money is a powerful motivator. I know Claire’s family is not doing well, possibly borderline bankrupt. She might be looking for a profitable marriage.”

  “How would you know that?” Lucas asked. It wasn’t like these families opened their bank account to Gladys. They just sent her the digital payment.

  “I can tell by the menu they want. They still hold events, but they order the chicken instead of the steak. They leave out the extra side dishes. The cookies, not the cheesecake. Small things like that.” She tapped her head. “Gladys knows. I’ve been in the business long enough to notice these details.”

  Lucas added that to his mental list to talk to Claire.

  “Now”—Gladys looked down her nose at them, peering over the frame of her glasses—“I need to get this brunch started.” Then she turned her back to them. Question time was over.

  Belle nudged his arm, and they stepped away from Gladys. She whispered, “What are you thinking?”

  He spoke in hushed tones, too. “I’m thinking we need to talk to Max again, ask him about the fight he had with Molly. We need to ask Claire about her family finances and if she’s the one who’d been with Chase that night.”

  “And Chase, we definitely need to talk to Chase,” Belle said.

  “Oh, yeah. That’s for sure.”

  “Maybe he’s the one wanting to marry for money. Maybe he realized he messed up big-time by fooling around with the other woman…”

  “And when Molly wouldn’t forgive right away, he saw his chance of marrying into wealth slipping away. I’ve seen it before. A guy like that wants his fingers dipping into both pies, but life doesn’t work that way.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Now blueberry pie,” Gladys interrupted. “I have the best recipe ever, but don’t—”

  “—bother asking,” Belle finished.

  Gladys smiled, her eyes twinkling. “Now you’ve got it.”

  “Let’s go see what everyone is up to, because I highly doubt everyone stayed in their rooms.” Lucas washed out his mug and put it in the dishwasher.

  They left the kitchen together, but Lucas paused in the dining room. “I’ve heard from more than one person now that Chase is not the money man he pretends to be.”

  “Okay, I get that, but why would he kill Molly when he hoped to win her back?” Belle asked.

  “Maybe Chase was making everything up, living in his own delusional world when he talked about Molly wanting him to fight for her. Deep down, he knew the answer was no. Maybe he was desperate.”

  Voices from the sunroom caught their attention. Clearly, they hadn’t stayed in their rooms. Everyone was talking at once. Some voices were louder, some softer; they came across as a buzz. No one’s voice stuck out.

  Until they fell silent.

  Lucas tensed once again.

  Someone said, “Find that detective guy. Tell him there’s another murder.”

  Another murder?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Not another murder, thought Belle, thankful Bixby had taken Lexie to a hotel. She wished Bixby were here, because his insight into people was always helpful. She held onto Lucas’ arm, holding him back from storming the room. “Should we let them shout it out?”

  Lucas hesitated.

  Belle saw the battle written on his face; on one side the desire to go in, find the body, and search for clues. On the other side, let the suspects spill their guts while the detective wasn’t in the room. Belle knew what he decided when a grim smile inched across his face. He nodded toward the sunroom.

  They tiptoed closer and stood outside the door listening.

  “Kinda obvious who did it,” Susie said in her usual tone.

  Everyone in the room murmured a response, which Belle couldn’t hear, but there wasn’t much to say when a murder has been revealed, a body of someone you know, found. Who was the victim? Obviously not Susie.

  “Why are you looking at me?” It was Claire, and she sounded shocked, almost gasping.

  Not Claire, Belle thought.

  “Let’s see. Motive. Motive. And motive,” Susie responded, this time sounding cocky.

  Even without seeing Susie, Belle imagined the sneer written on her face as she accused Claire. She motioned to Lucas whether they should enter. He held up a hand, as in, wait a few seconds to see what this conversation might reveal.

  Susie continued, her voice rising above the rest, her tone turning hard. “You’re a slut, Claire. Sleeping around with Chase. Face it. Molly was right. She knew it all along. Then when Chase crashed the birthday party, declaring his love, you couldn’t handle it. You killed Molly, then you killed Chase, too.”

  It was hard to stifle the gasp. The second body. The second murder was Chase.

  “For the last time, it wasn’t me. I wouldn’t kiss her boyfriend and I wouldn’t kill her or Chase. She’s my best friend,” Claire said, voice cracking, exasperated and a touch defensive. “I would never hurt her.”

  Susie muttered, “We all know the charms of Chase Holloway. We’ve all been there. Anyway, I listened to that dumb detective talking to Gladys. Molly told Gladys she thought it was you in the restaurant with Chase.”

  Belle recognized Susie’s lie, wondering how Claire would respond to that accusation. Susie was being pretty hard on her.

  “Molly was upset. She only saw the person from the back. She couldn’t have known,” Claire said.

  “How do you know that?” Susie shot out.

  “Chase told me what happened. He wanted me to talk Molly into giving him another chance,” Claire pointed out.

  “Like she would have listened to you!”

  “Well…” A new voice entered the match. Sounded like Peter, Molly’s brother. “There was that time you kissed her boyfriend at school. I remember cuz she was devastated.”

  Claire gasped in frustration. “That was in fifth grade!”

  “Not sure that matters,” Peter said. “It sets a precedent.”

  “Ooh, big words, Petie.”

  “Shut up, Susie.”

  “When did Molly talk to you?” Claire asked. “Did she tell you the details of that night?” When Susie didn’t respond, Claire added, “That’s what I thought. And how do you know Gladys wasn’t lying? How do you know Molly thought it was me or are you making it all up? It’s not like you had a close relationship with Molly.” When Susie didn’t answer right away, Claire said, “Aha! You read her diary. We knew it. Molly always thought you were reading it.”

  “Sure did. She didn’t exactly hide it in an original spot.” Susie laughed. “It was more entertaining than our mom’s romance novels. Good thing I read it before she burned most of the pages about Chase. The good stuff, anyway. Molly told Gladys she thought it was you, looked like you.”

  There was silence.

  Belle imagined everyone turning their frosty glares at Claire, the best friend. It would make sense that these murders were connected. That after killing Molly, Chase would be the next victim. Susie seemed so sure it was Claire.

  Once upon a time, there were two best friends, Molly and Claire. They were close as close could be, but underneath lay simmering jealousy, an envy that one has of a friend who is beautiful and draws all the attention. Claire could hide it for the most part, unless there was a chance to have something Molly had. Like a boy. This pattern followed them into adulthood. When Claire’s family was on the brink of bankruptcy, Claire snapped. She couldn’t handle how easily life and money came to Molly. In a fight, in a heat-of-the-moment rage, Claire shot Molly right in the forehead. Killed her dead.

  Belle had little interaction with Peter and his friends, but one of them spoke up. “Um, lots of girls have longish brown hair. Anyone could look like Claire from behind.”

  “Thank you, Joe,” Claire said. “At least someone sees reason.”

  “Speaking as a woman, I wouldn’t touch Chase with a twenty-foot pole. I knew he was a cheater. Why would anyone want to date him?” Kara said, her tone flippant.

  “Duh,” Susie said. “Because he’s hot. All the girls wanted to date him. They always thought they would be the one to keep him from cheating. I’m sure Molly thought that, too.”

  “Not sure why you all couldn’t see through him,” Max muttered. “He was a chump.”

  “I bet you were jealous, Max” Peter said with an accusing tone. “Couldn’t stand that Chase won over the love of your life. Enough to kill him even after Molly was gone.” Peter’s voice cracked. He sounded desperate.

  “Never!” Max cried.

  “There’s something else, Claire.” Susie wasn’t done. “Gladys also said your family was in financial trouble, so you might have thought Chase was rich and wanted to snag him.”

  “Never!” Claire cried. “I wouldn’t do that to Molly. She wanted to marry him!”

  “Yeah, but”—Peter interrupted—“Didn’t you steal her boyfriend freshman year in high school too?”

  Claire gasped. “That was different.”

  “Wasn’t that different. But, yup, she did,” Susie confirmed. “Molly acted like she didn’t care, but she was heartbroken.”

  “What about you?” Claire accused. “You’ve been jealous of her since you could walk. Molly outshone you in all areas. You couldn’t stand that your father favored her. You could have easily bumped her off, then Chase, too.”

  “If I wanted to kill my sister, I would’ve done it years ago. Anyway, I hate guns. That’s the last way I’d do it. Too hard to hide the evidence. And Chase? Pfft. Not worth anyone’s time.”

  A prickle ran across Belle’s shoulders and down her spine. An icy tingle. Even though, throughout their flying accusations, they slandered him, he hadn’t said a word.

  Because he was dead.

  Chase Holloway.

  Lucas strode into the room. It was like a bomb going off the way everyone froze, mid-conversation or mid-sentence. Belle followed behind him, watching. Their mouths snapped shut. They shot accusing glares at one another.

  That’s when Belle felt that any of them could have done it. They all seemed to have reasonable motive, except for Peter and his friends.

  “I see you’re all having a friendly morning chat,” Lucas said. He surveyed the room, looking for the body. They moved aside, like the parting of the Red Sea.

  And there was Chase.

  Slumped against the wall, his head bleeding. They’d hit him from the back. Blood was smeared against the wall. The weapon lay on the floor next to him.

  It was the marble paperweight from the kitchen office.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Lucas stood in the silence that settled on the sunroom. He heard a few intakes of breaths as the reality hit them.

  They’d found a body.

  One of them was the murderer.

  He studied Chase. He almost looked posed, the way he leaned against the wall. The place of contact was toward the back and to the side of his head, meaning Chase might not have seen it coming. He might not have seen his murderer, the hate-filled eyes, the gleam of intent.