“No need to be nervous, hon. I’ve got one right here.” She holds up a blue canvas bag in her hand. “And the other is with Kiki. I promise you, we’re not letting them out of our sight. The entire production team feels bad about that lunatic running around planting cleavers willy-nilly. I hope they catch them soon. And when they do, they hang them by their toes. It’s sickening, trying to frighten people like that. Especially after what happened.” I won’t tell her my theory. The last thing this poor girl needs to hear is that I think her inn is haunted with Heather’s leftover ghosts. I wasn’t always a believer in the afterlife, but this whole shoot has me rethinking my stance on a lot of things—like, say, my career choices.
I nod her way. “Well, I appreciate you looking after them.” I glance to the blue bag where the cleaver sits snug. “So the night of the murder, were both cleavers accounted for?”
“One. The other, well”—she leans in—“it was the murder weapon.”
“Oh, right. So did you have one of them that night?”
She makes a face. “Bates was trying to give it to me, but my hands were full, so I asked him to put it on the counter in the café. Of course, after I heard what had happened, I made a beeline to the café and was relieved to find the cleaver still there. I didn’t put two and two together until later that the other cleaver was used to do the dirty work.”
“So you took the cleaver?”
She nods. “Oh yeah. I’m all about being responsible.” She grimaces. “Except for when I’m not and one of our actresses gets murdered.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t your fault,” I say as I do my best to pry into her thoughts for what might come next.
“No, it’s not. But that won’t stop me from feeling like it was.”
“All on set!” a voice booms from behind, and just as I turn that way, Peter trips right over Sherlock and bumps into me, sending the tote bag hanging from my shoulder to the sand and the yearbook slides out. Thankfully, I don’t drop Fish, but Peter keeps stumbling until he regains his footing. “Watch where you’re going,” he grunts as he takes off toward the action down the beach a ways.
I bend over to scoop the yearbook up, but Faith beats me to it.
“Smuggler’s Cove.” She makes a face. “Heather’s I’m guessing.”
“Heather’s?” I take it from her and bury it back in my tote bag.
“That’s where she was from.” Faith shrugs it off. “Did you find it in her trailer?”
“Oh, um, I guess it must be hers. It was lying around.”
She nods. “Peter had her things boxed up so the new girl could have the space.” She rolls her eyes. “And what a piece of work that new girl is. Do you know she threatened to sue once she saw that wedding dress? Don’t worry, Bizzy. I made it crystal clear she’s not getting another one. The big scene is almost here. I think everyone on set is a little bit jittery after what happened to Heather.” She blows out a breath. “I’d better get out there. Oh, and if you want to offload that yearbook, you can give it to Kiki. She’s from Breckinridge. It’s essentially Smuggler’s Cove.” She takes off, and I glance toward the tent near the refreshment table where I saw Kiki earlier working her magic on the cast of that gaping wound.
“Breckinridge,” I say as I pull out my phone.
Fish swipes her paw gently at my phone. What is it, Bizzy?
“I don’t know,” I whisper as I input the town’s name, and sure enough, Breckinridge sits right next to Smuggler’s Cove. I look up Breckinridge High, but it diverts me to Smuggler’s Cove High instead.
How about that?
Both towns look as if they’re blips on the map. There aren’t a lot of secrets in small towns. Typically, gossip rules the roost. And if that’s true, I bet Kiki might know something more about Heather’s past—about Rachel, and Aileen.
An article near the bottom catches my eye.
Woodley Heights Girl Dies in Smuggler’s Cove
I click into it. Woodley Heights? Isn’t that where Aileen was from?
I scan through the article quickly to determine the fact.
Bizzy, look. Fish mewls as her paw lands shy of the bottom of the screen.
My gaze drifts down, and what I see sets my teeth on edge.
I think the killer is in our midst.
And I think she always has been.
Chapter 17
“Bizzy!” Kiki gives an enthusiastic smile as I enter her makeshift studio in the tent at the edge of the cove. A few lamps illuminate the small space, accompanied by a table laden with cosmetics. “I’m so glad you brought Fish.”
Kiki comes over and gives my cute cat a quick scratch above the nose.
Sherlock runs a circle around her, and she bleats out a cheerful laugh.
“I see you, too, Sherlock.” She catches him and gives him a hearty scratch on his neck. And judging by his thumping hind leg, he seems to enjoy it.
Kiki’s hair is pulled back into a ponytail and her cheeks look ruddy as if she’s just spent some serious time in the sun this afternoon. I wouldn’t blame her if she did. The production team is due to clean up and leave in the morning. It was essentially her last chance.
“Did you go for a swim today?” My voice pitches without meaning to, giving away the fact my nerves are frazzled.
“I didn’t. I ended up taking a walk along the beach and doing my best to forget all my worries. I haven’t worked out since we started this production. I used to lift weights and I have the upper body strength to
