“So you need a vacation,” I say in hopes of steering her toward a cruise in the South Pacific.
“I need a new residence. I’ll be staying with you until I can figure things out. I need to be as far away from Hastings as possible. I need family right now, too, Stella. And face it, you check off two boxes.”
“You can’t—” I glance over my shoulder before pulling her behind the hedge with me. “Steph, you can’t call me Stella. My name is Bowie Binx. And don’t you dare breathe that name outside of my presence—as in when you go back home. You got it?”
She gives a solemn nod before craning her neck past me. “This looks like some fancy party. I bet that cute boyfriend of yours is here. I caught an eyeful when he was going out to get the mail. Leave it to you, Stella—I mean, Bowie, to move in with the most handsome stud muffin in all of Vermont.”
“Yeah, well, that hottie and I don’t live together. He’s my landlord.” Speaking of that handsome stud muffin, he said he’d be here in just a bit once he finished up at the sheriff’s station.
I glance back at the crowd to see if he’s already arrived, but there’s no sign of him. Instead, I spot a redhead laughing with a group of friends.
That’s Sophia Hathaway.
If I can just ask her a few more questions, I’m sure she’ll be able to help me pin Kiera Hillerman to a murderous wall.
I glance back to my sister. “And thank you for giving me an idea, Steph.” I pull my house key out and land it in her palm. “You go straight to my place. I’ll buy every banana pie from here to Starry Falls before I get back and we’ll watch rom-coms until we’re seeing double.”
“Oh, that sounds deliciously perfect.” She clutches the key to her chest. “Thank you Ste—Bowie.” She gives a little shrug. “You’re not really mad at me, are you?”
“For missing your big sis? Never.” For leading who knows who right to my doorstep? Well, that’s another issue entirely. “I’ll be home soon. Make sure nobody sees you—and don’t make any pit stops! And for God’s sake—don’t go to the manor.”
“Got it.” She pulls me in for another tight embrace before taking off into the night.
My phone buzzes in my purse, and I fish it out to find a text from Shep.
Running late. Wanted to let you know I spoke to my sister. She said BD stands for backdated. I bet whoever moved those funds had no idea the software had an internal measure set in place to trace the date. See you in a bit. Stay out of trouble.
Backdated?
The date of that half a million dollar transaction was backdated to a week before Madeline died. Interesting. Someone moved that money after Madeline died in an effort to make it look as if she did it.
But who?
And could they also be the killer?
I glance back to Sophia just as her band of friends disperses.
Now to get to the bottom of Madeline Swanson’s murder once and for all.
I make a beeline for the redhead in question just as she accepts a glass of wine from a roving waitress.
“Bowie.” Her voice hikes with what sounds like a genuine pleasure to see me. “You want one?” She points to her glass, and I quickly shake my head.
“Things didn’t end so well for me the last time I imbibed.”
A laugh bubbles from her. “Yes, the llama races. If it makes you feel better, your llama won. Just about every woman there ordered a hat from that designer.”
“It’s nice to know my time as a llama jockey didn’t go to waste.” I give a quick look around at the crowd. “This is some shindig.” I nod toward the bodies floating around the periphery of the pond. “Madeline sure was loved by many.”
“That she was.” She shrugs. “But we already knew that.”
“I saw Kiera here.” I brighten with the lie, but I have no doubt she’s roaming the grounds. “She really misses Madeline, too. And after that donation from your father to her company, I bet she’ll do something to honor both Madeline and him.”
Her shoulders bounce with a dry laugh. “Maybe a—smells like Madeline Swanson’s dead body candle? Or a smells like stolen Hathaway money candle? Kiera is swine as far as I’m concerned. That ridiculous company of hers was tottering on financial oblivion a few weeks back. She owes my father plenty—like a repayment.”
“Goober was having financial trouble?”
She nods. “It’s never been in the black. I heard she was about to close up shop a few weeks back. Must be nice to get a miracle when you need it. Even if you have to take it yourself.”
“Hey, I spoke to the detective working on her case and he said that half a million dollar donation your father supposedly made to Kiera’s company might have been backdated.”
Her brows pinch a moment. “What does that mean?”
“It means whoever transferred that money to Goober did so after Madeline died. How do you think Kiera pulled that off?”
She blinks back. “I don’t know.” Her features harden. “But I’m sure as heck about to find out.” She stalks off before I could properly interrogate her.
Great.
That got me exactly nowhere.
A man in a red suit walks by, and I wince at the garishness of his accouterments before I remember I’ve seen them before.
“Lucas?” I call out and catch up to him near a grove of oaks lit up like Christmas trees.
Lucas has his hair slicked back and a friendly smile to greet me.
“Bowie Binx.” He lifts his drink my way as if he was toasting me. “Did you ever find someplace to park your money?”
“Not yet.” I shrug. “I’m keeping all of my options open at the moment.” I nod down at the suit. “I remember you wearing this the night Madeline died.”
A thump of a laugh ejects from him. “It
