Chase would have walked into the room, maybe to take in the view, the sun hitting the rippling water. There probably wasn’t a confrontation. In the murderer’s mind, that time was over.

  Did the person who killed Chase kill Molly—or was this revenge? Was this the same killer striking twice? Or two different killers? Could it have been Claire, jealous of both of them? Or maybe Max. Also jealous of the relationship. Or maybe the murders were unrelated and there was something they didn’t know yet.

  He thought about everything he’d learned, the conversation they just overheard. They were all so quick to throw each other under the bus. They were scared.

  He thought about Gladys and the tidbits of information she knew about people, or didn’t know about people, because of her line of work. He had been keen to talk to Chase about that new information.

  That was no longer an option.

  He turned to face everyone, and he studied their pale faces, their eyes, the way they wouldn’t look him in the eye, or each other. Nothing but nervous glances.

  “I’m going to want to talk to all of you. One at a time.” Given their hostilities toward one another, he doubted it mattered if they were together or not. It was impossible to think that any in this group were working together. Sometimes, though if people were given a choice, they offered up more information.

  “Belle and I are going to head down to the dock. You are all more than welcome to start on the brunch Gladys has been working hard on. Obviously, don’t leave. If you feel you know something or you’ve seen something this morning, meet us at the dock. Or…if you want to confess. After breakfast, we’ll start the one-on-one interrogations.” He motioned toward the door. “Let’s go, Belle.”

  “W-what about Chase? We can’t just leave him here,” Claire said, her voice now soft, compared to the vicious tones she’d taken with Susie.

  “I’ll call it in. The cops will be here soon. Trust me. They won’t be as accommodating as I’ve been.” He still couldn’t believe they hadn’t made a murder a priority, even with the thunder storm and power outages.

  He opened the door, allowing Belle to exit first, then he followed. They walked the stretch of the backyard in silence. He didn’t want to say a word until they were further away. No need to make the same mistakes they all made, airing all their thoughts for everyone to hear.

  “What do you think?” Belle asked, as they stepped onto the dock. “Will any of them come talk to us?”

  “I think someone will. What I really want is to just leave them all to it. I want to go pick up Lexie and Bixby and spend the day on the lake, rent a boat or something.”

  Belle let out a soft snicker. “I agree, but the detective in you won’t let that happen. At least not until the cops get here.”

  He sighed. “I know. Where are they, anyway? I know there was a storm, but someone should have arrived. Maybe a second body will make the matter more pressing.” He pulled out his phone and made the call. “This is Detective Graystone. I’m here at the St. James home on vacation. I’m calling to report there is now a second body. It’s definitely murder. I’d send someone as soon as possible…yes, last night there was a murder…no, definitely, a bullet to the forehead…What?” he said, in part disbelief, part exasperation. “Okay…yup…I’ll be here.” He slid his phone into his pocket and looked at Belle.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Max never made the call.”

  “What?” she gasped.

  “That’s right. Max told me he called the police about Molly, but he didn’t.” Now that could mean almost anything, but it surely didn’t look good for Max. “Let’s review what we know so far.”

  “Molly St. James had been in love with Chase. At one point, she expected a proposal. It didn’t happen. Then she grew paranoid and spied on him. She found him at dinner with another woman and threw beer at him. In the shock of that revelation, she didn’t get a good look at the woman, whose back was turned to her, but according to Gladys, Molly thought it might have been Claire.”

  “And Claire…” Lucas added, “has a history of encroaching on Molly’s love interests.”

  “Molly was beautiful and drew attention wherever she went, but it wasn’t just her looks, it was her personality, as we briefly saw. Her smile and the way she talked to people. She made them feel special. But maybe…” Belle bit her lip.

  “Go ahead. What are you thinking?”

  “Well, maybe deep down she was just as insecure as everyone else.”

  “So, she dis-invites Chase to the big birthday weekend—”

  “That could be why I received an invitation. It seemed last minute,” Belle said.

  “Definitely.” Lucas stared at the water, assuming the gun that shot Molly could be ten feet deep out there somewhere, or hidden in the house. If he had his team, by now they would’ve combed the place for the weapon. “Then Chase crashes the party and tells us Molly wanted him to fight for her and prove his love, but she didn’t seem happy to see him.”

  “Gladys informed us she overheard a disturbing fight on the phone between Molly and Chase. She made it sound like he was disturbed, almost obsessive. Maybe he killed Molly in frustration. Maybe Susie or Claire, after years of watching someone they love hog the spotlight, finally had enough.”

  “Or,” Lucas said, “Max, all these years, had been pretending to be a close confidant to Molly, hoping she would fall in love with him.”

  “I saw them fight out on the water yesterday. Molly pushed him overboard. It wasn’t playful. Maybe Max was tired of waiting.”

  “We can’t forget what Kara saw when she stumbled upon Molly in the kitchen. She saw the back of someone running away. She claimed the person was tall and male, but in the dark, in the confusion and shock, it could have been anyone.” Then he remembered. “No, Kara said she heard Molly’s high-pitched voice and a deeper male voice.”

  They heard footsteps on the dock.

  Lucas turned to find Peter and Susie walking toward them. Peter looked determined, jaw set, like he was the man of the house and was about to take charge. Peter offered Lucas a quick nod.

  “I assume you’re here because you saw something important.” When Peter didn’t acknowledge that statement and folded his arms across his chest, Lucas added, “Or maybe one of you is here to confess. We know Susie has deep-seated jealousy. What about you, Peter? What are your secrets?”

  Peter flashed Lucas a grim look. “I talked to my father, and we’d like you to leave, to step down. He’s calling in his own private detective.”

  “Sorry, no can do,” Lucas stated, then watched as something akin to fire flickered in Peter’s eyes. So, the young, laid-back son had some gumption after all. “This might be your property, but I don’t care. There’s been two murders. First, I was here. I’m a witness, and will need to talk to the police when they arrive. Second, you can’t tell me what to do.” He pinned Peter with a fierce gaze. “I haven’t chatted with you yet. Do you mind?”

  Lucas watched the internal struggle. Finally, Peter relented. “Fine, but I don’t know much.”

  “It might be good to look in Molly’s bedroom,” Belle suggested. “Susie?”

  “Fine,” she muttered. “Let’s go.”

  Lucas watched them walk away. Then turned to Peter. “Who do you think killed your sister?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Belle wanted to draw Susie away from Peter. Maybe with less pressure and posturing in front of his sister, he would answer Lucas’ questions more truthfully.

  Molly’s brother could be the key. He knew his sisters, the family, and the friends, yet he didn’t seem to be caught up in the petty fighting.

  They went through the back of the kitchen. No one wanted to enter through the sunroom where Chase still sat propped against the wall—hopefully finally finding peace.

  As they passed the pantry, it drew her gaze. She caught sight of the white chest freezer. A small shudder rippled through her.

  “I want to snag some food.” Susie headed to the dining room.

  It’s not that Belle wasn’t hungry, but she was more driven to solve this murder so Lucas and Lexie could enjoy a mini-vacation. That’s right, because you certainly don’t deserve one. Her uncle’s voice ripped through her mind like a bullet. Her aunt’s cackle followed. A vacation? Her only vacation should be in the kitchen.

  Belle had tried her hardest not to think about her uncle and aunt making themselves at home in her house. Cooking in her kitchen. Sitting on her couch. Going through her stuff. It was easy to push it to the back of her mind.

  Her past always cropped up at unexpected times, but it was more than usual now that she’d seen them face-to-face. She couldn’t stand the reminder that she couldn’t relinquish them to the garbage heap of her memory forever.

  In the dining room, Belle noticed two things. The scrumptious display of food. The scrambled eggs were the lightest and fluffiest she’d ever seen. There was a yogurt bar with Greek yogurt, granola, and honey. An assortment of bagels with four kinds of cream cheese. Last, a platter of fresh fruit. Gladys had really outdone herself. Really, once the generator started, Belle had forgotten they’d lost power.

  The second thing she noticed was the somber mood of the crowd. Not that she blamed them. Most of them hadn’t fully processed the murder of Molly. Never mind Chase, too.

  She took this moment to look closer at them. Some looked downright worried. None were eating, but picking at their food, or sipping coffee. Every once in a while, there would be a suspicious glance as they realized someone at the table could be a killer.

  Susie grabbed a dry bagel and a banana. She pointed the banana at them like a gun. “That’s right. You all better be nervous as heck. Hope you have your alibis straight.”

  “Same with you!” Kara burst out, then added, “Susie Q.” She spoke with a slight sneer, like it was a nickname Susie didn’t appreciate.

  “You know I hate that name. Anyway, you’re one of the guys. Why the heck did you want to come to Molly’s birthday bash? You don’t even know her.”

  Kara shrugged. “Peter invited us.”

  “You’re a moocher, that’s why. All of you are. Over the years, all of you have used our family home for an upgraded vacation, even if just for a weekend. A chance to eat fabulous cooking and live in luxury. No surprise that one of you was jealous enough to pull the trigger.” Her words came out like bullets, and no one was safe. “Little Pete and Joe, you’ve been obsessed with Molly since the day you met her. What about all the boat rides—pretty easy way to drop a gun in the lake. Whoopsie!”

  “Hey!” Little Pete cried. “We came back before the storm while Molly was still alive and breathing. We haven’t been out since.”

  Susie rolled her eyes. “Save it for the judge.” She turned her venom on Max. “You and Molly had an intense conversation yesterday. Still trying to get her in the sack, huh? You must be frustrated after all this time. That can drive a man to murder.”

  Belle watched with keen interest as Max’s cheeks turned scarlet. For the first time, the man looked like a killer. And yet, he glared at Susie, refusing to take the bait.

  She wasn’t close to finished. With a vicious glare at Claire, she said, “I know all about your family. Someone’s got loose lips. I wouldn’t be surprised if you asked Molly to talk to Daddy about a loan. Did Molly say no?”

  Claire jerked in her seat, face paling, as if the reminder of her family’s financial situation was a direct physical blow.

  Those two women were about to go another round. Belle could feel it. She slipped out and snuck upstairs. Once on the second-floor landing, she hurried down the hallway toward the family quarters above the kitchen and dining room. It didn’t take long to find Molly’s room. It was an explosion of pink and cuteness. Fancy curtains hung at the windows. A queen-size fourposter bed with a canopy sat against the wall. Decorative pillows covered the top of the bed, all blinged out with sequins and positive wording like, You’ve Got This, and Way To Go.

  A few moments later, Belle noticed the edge of a journal sticking out from under the pillow. Susie was right. Molly didn’t use clever hiding places when it came to her diary.

  Belle sat on the bed and pulled out the book. She ran her fingers over the soft leather. It was expensive. Shrugging off the guilt because there might be some clues to be found, she flipped it open.

  Oh, my dearest, dearest diary. The one who has known about my dreams and my deepest longings from the start.

  That very first day when I met Chase Holloway. You remember, right?

  How could you not when I described in such great detail everything about him that etched itself onto my heart. The sexy swirl of chestnut brown hair.

  Yes, I can now say I’ve run my hands through those locks and it’s just as silky as I thought it would be. And those eyes, those greenish-brown eyes that could melt ice cream. Gosh, and his biceps when he flexes—glorious! Then there’s his laugh. I could marry his laugh. It fills me with joy when I know he’d rather be with me than anyone else.

  He’s perfect. We’re perfect together. Is this silly? Still writing in a diary when I’m almost the big three-oh. Thirty! It feels silly but I don’t care! I need to tell someone my feelings or I’ll burst. Susie refuses to hear about him anymore. Even Claire seems less enthusiastic every time I talk about Chase.

  I get it. They’re just jealous. They can’t begin to comprehend a love like ours. I can barely understand it! I don’t blame Susie. Not really. She’s always stuck listening to my rambling. But Claire? She usually will hear me out when it comes to men. Have I talked about Chase that much? Oh, maybe I have. I’ll be sure to ask nothing but questions about her the next time we talk.

  …You should have been there tonight.

  Chase told me to dress up fancy for our dinner date. I almost died. I was breathless the whole night. Even wore my mother’s pearls. I thought he was going to propose! Yes, I was disappointed, but then I realized it’s just something I can look forward to! It will still happen! Now every date is one big night of breathless anticipation. I think it’s coming soon. If he loves me as much as he says he does.

  Of course, I’m not stupid. I know Chase has flaws.

  But what are a few flaws in the light of true love? In light of a happily ever after? His room is messy, sure. I’m positive he only washes his sheets once a month—if that! Sometimes he gets too involved with his phone, but who doesn’t these days? Every once in a while, he’ll be late. But he always comes with flowers and kisses.

  Belle skimmed the next few paragraphs describing the date and her disappointment, and then her plans for the party. Oh my, she was wordy. Molly did seem to live in her own world when it came to her expectations of others.

  It was strange reading the words, now that Molly was gone from this world. She’d had such high hopes for this weekend. Belle went back to reading about the plans for the big birthday bash.

  She read more slowly when Molly wrote about her doubts concerning Chase.

  Dearest Diary,

  Something is off with Chase lately. He’s not as excited about the birthday weekend as I thought. Though, he could be downplaying it to throw me off! That would be just like him. Here’s what has happened. He has missed the last few dates. It’s just so much more often than it ever has been. I wouldn’t dream of missing a date!

  I can’t talk to Susie or Claire about it, because I fear they’ll just say I told you so or will confirm my fears. That Chase will not propose!

  Then there’s the fact that he hasn’t been answering my texts right away, not like he usually does. We used to stay up until two in the morning exchanging sweet nothings. Now I try, and he’ll beg off, saying he’s tired and has a big day at work.

  I don’t know what to think! Help, dear diary!

  XOXO

  Molly

  These pages confirmed everything. Molly did suspect something, and she’d withdrawn from Claire and Susie. She skimmed and couldn’t help but smile at Molly’s attempts at a stake out.

  Dear Diary,

  I’m sitting here in my car outside Chase’s apartment, watching and waiting for a sign of something. All I can picture is a beautiful woman slinking out through the door and into her car. She’d swagger with a kind of haughtiness, knowing she was with someone else’s man. She’d be gorgeous. Perfect. I’m ready. Except, I can’t put a face to the woman, because in my heart of hearts, I hope this is all in my head…

  Belle continued reading. It was hard not to get lost in Molly’s world, as she ate donuts and granola bars, tracking Chase down to a bar. It was an emotional roller coaster as Molly felt the shame of feeling doubt, assuming he’s in the bar with his friends.

  Here I was being the most terrible, the absolute worst girlfriend—soon to be fiancée—in the world, assuming he’s cheating, staking out his apartment while getting sick on donuts and making a mess of rainbow sprinkles in my car—they are positively smushed into the floor! I mean, we all know that strawberry-frosted donuts with rainbow sprinkles are the absolute best.

  I’ve never felt so terrible.

  This is what happens when you let your imagination take the wheel. Learn from my mistakes, dearest diary! (And future children, if you read this, though I might rip out these pages for posterity’s sake.)

  I drove home and it was like the walk of shame, except I was driving.

  In my driveway, I sat there, slumped over, feeling terrible.

  Somehow, I had to make it up to him. That’s when brilliance struck, like lightning on a hot summer night. I’d get all fancied up, wear the slinky black dress he loves, do up my face and hair, and I’d surprise him at the bar!

  It was brilliant.

  Belle paused. Wasn’t it at a bar that Molly discovered he was with another woman? She read faster.

  I never loved this bar. The music is always a little too loud.