Page 57 of She Doesn't Have a Clue
“Where did you go last night, after you fought with Rebecca?” Kate asked. “You must have been pretty steamed. I know I would have been.”
“Oh, you believe your ass I was,” Marcus said. “I was ready to punch some walls, throw some priceless family heirlooms. But a good steam was exactly what I needed, I guess, since that’s what I did.”
“What do you mean?” Kate asked.
Marcus shrugged. “That kid, what did you say his name was? Ronald? Ricardo?”
“Richie,” Jake supplied.
“Yeah, the surly one. He let me in the pool room, said any enemy of his aunt was a friend of his. They got a real swank sauna down there. I nearly fell asleep in that steam room. They were doing some kind of crazy party, but I’m too old for that crap. All I need these days is a good glass of whisky and a nice schvitz and I’m in heaven.”
If Marcus had been in the pool room during the party last night, there was a good chance Richie had caught him in the background of his photos. Kate could confirm the time and location on his phone. Plus, she didn’t figure Marcus Sheffield could have rage-drowned someone like Rebecca without a whole pool room full of witnesses. Not unless Richie and Steven were covering for him. But he’d said something that had triggered Kate’s interest, and if she’d had time to put her sleuthing sweater on, she was sure it would be itching right now. In fact, her arms were still red from scratching. Maybe Jake had a point about the wool.
“Marcus, it’s been a real… well, it’s been real,” Kate said, tugging Jake’s arm. “But we’ve got to get ready for the ceremony.”
“Ceremony, ha,” Marcus snorted, blinking at her blearily. “Good luck to that poor bastard. That’s one bullet you can’t dodge. Shoulda taken the old man’s payout, then at least I’d have had the money to pick myself up after the Bitch Bull wrecked my life. This fucking family.”
The Bitch Bull had certainly paid with her own life, Kate thought. And it was looking more and more like it had been at the hands of this fucking family of hers.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Since I know you can’t possibly be this eager about the wedding ceremony, I assume we’re going back to the murder attic?” Jake asked as Kate practically sprinted up the stairs toward the fourth floor again. She was really getting her cardio for the weekend.
“I need to check the photos on Richie’s phone to confirm Marcus’s claim that he was in the spa after he argued with Rebecca,” Kate said as they climbed the ladder into the attic, picking up Richie’s phone where she left it on the armchair and scrolling through his camera roll as Jake changed into his wedding outfit. “Well, Marcus was right about one thing, at least. Seems like Richie and Steven hosted some kind of after-party down in the pool room. Ah, there’s Marcus in the background. He looks super pissed, so this must be after he talked to Rebecca. He is in a towel, though. And it looks like he’s going into some kind of side room and—Oh! Okay, wellthatis a penis.”
The pictures got decidedly more R-rated from there, bare chests and other parts, groups of wedding guests swimming in what looked like an underground pool. Kate checked the metadata on the pictures, disappointed to find that they spanned far beyond the time frame of the poisoning window last night. Richie and Steven were in most of the photos,as was Marcus a good hour after he entered the steam room, looking like a cooked potato. But Rebecca was conspicuously absent. Which tracked with Richie’s timeline that she left the pool room after arguing with Marcus. But how did she end up drowned, and who did the deed?
“Unless you’re planning on showing up to the ceremony in your sleuthing sweater, you should get changed now,” Jake prompted, gently taking the phone from her.
“Wedding, right,” Kate said, frowning over her suspects list as she dug through her suitcase for her dress for the wedding. “The photos from the party seem to prove Marcus was in the steam room when Rebecca was killed.”
“Doesn’t that alibi out Richie and Steven as well, then?” Jake wondered.
“I guess it does.” Kate grunted, wrestling herself into the strapless bra from the previous evening. “And to your point, Kennedy has a rock-solid alibi for the time her aunt was killed.”
“Being poisoned and unconscious, you mean,” Jake supplied.
“Yes,” Kate said. “Except that Marcus said something interesting about Kennedy. He said that she lured him here to the island by promising to talk to Rebecca about giving his family’s business back. But when he got here, suddenly she’s talking about it being a bad time because the situation changed.”
“Which makes sense, if Rebecca blindsided her about the historical society,” Jake said.
“It would make sense,ifshe’d been blindsided,” Kate said, shimmying into her dress. She wouldn’t have time to fix her hair or even contemplate makeup, but it hardly mattered, considering they’d be doing the ceremony in the dark at this point. “But what if Kennedy somehow found out about her aunt’s plans before this weekend?”
“You mean somebody on the board snitched to her?”
“Think about it. Rosary peas aren’t naturally occurring here, and I certainly haven’t seen any in the house or on the grounds. Which means whoever brought the poison was prepared. So maybe Rebecca thinks she’s hoodwinking her family, making the big announcement last night.But what if one of them already knew? Like, say, a real estate lawyer? Or her heir? Or a disgraced cousin desperately seeking a cash infusion to stave off her food truck debts?”
Jake turned around in surprise. “You think all three of them were in on it?”
“They all stood to gain from Rebecca’s death, didn’t they?” Kate reasoned, wincing as she worked her feet back into her high heels. “Kennedy would lose access to the family fund and the island where all the precious memories of her parents are, Richie would lose his inheritance, and Cassidy would never get the opportunity to inherit at all. But with Rebecca out of the way, Kennedy takes over and stops the deal with the historical trust. And, as head of the board, she can approve Richie’s requestandhave Cassidy reinstated in the will.”
Jake gave a low whistle, his gaze traveling up the length of her bare legs and back down. He blinked, clearing his throat. “That’s a helluva motive for all three.”
“I need to talk to Kennedy,” Kate said. “If I can get her to admit she knew about the deal before Rebecca’s speech, that proves she had motive. And if the three of them were in it together—Kennedy providing the distraction, Richie and Steven sabotaging the house, and Cassidy doing the deed—then all we need to figure out is where they actually drowned Rebecca. There’s got to be some kind of physical evidence there.”
“I’ve got your evidence right here,” Jake said, holding up Richie’s phone. When Kate looked at him in surprise, he gave a shrug. “What? You told me to be a Blake, I’m being a Blake. I went through his text history, and listen to this one from Steven: ‘You know what Rico will do to me if this deal doesn’t go through. We need to take care of your aunt this weekend, or else.’ And this one, from Cassidy, sent yesterday morning: ‘R can’t stand in my way any longer, I’ve made sure of it.’ Sounds like the hatching of a plot to me.”
“See, now you’re getting into the spirit.” Kate grinned. “Let’s go talk to the bride.”