“Do you actually think Maris is the murderer, though?”
“Well, someone’s coat had blood on it, not to mention it was difficult to see who was coming and going at the party.”
“But I thought Taylor Grace was poisoned. So if Maris poisoned her, why the blood?” Josie asks.
“Someone tried to frame Hughes. Maris is the most likely suspect, but,” I dive in, “you came a little late. You didn’t happen to see her out at all, did you? Where were you anyway?” I try to ask as casually as possible.
Josie, my oldest and dearest friend, narrows her eyes at me.
I’m sweating.
“Oh my god.” Josie’s mouth drops open. “You think I poisoned Taylor Grace?”
“No!”
“Yes, you do!” she shrieks. “I’m not organized enough to orchestrate a double homicide poisoning. A shooting, sure, I could handle that. Also, I told you, I was buying a new sweater. I have a receipt here somewhere. See?” She thumbs through her phone. It has a cracked screen, though I know Mace just got her a new one. “Ta-da!”
I breathe out a sigh of relief.
“I don’t know why I thought—” I rub my eyes. “I’m sorry. I haven’t had any sleep, thanks to Hughes, and then I found your bracelet.” I pull it out.
“Oh shit. I had no idea I lost that. Whoops! It must have gotten caught on my sweater or something. So crazy. But also, can we talk about the fact that you had sex with Hughes, please? How was it? How big is he? Scale of zucchini to eggplant?” She mimes with her hands. “Did you take any pictures?”
“You’re a married mother.”
“I like to know these things, you know. Keep my thumb on the pulse of the market.” She snort-laughs into her coffee.
“No photos.”
“Next time, then.”
“I don’t know. Do you think he actually likes me?” I chew on my lip.
“Did he go down on you?”
“Yeah.”
“Then he likes you,” Josie says firmly. “I bet he’s thinking about banging you right now.”
“He’s probably thinking about how he got roped into my friend drama, and now he’s being accused of murder. He’s probably getting ready to leave town,” I fret.
“Nah, he’s going to stick around at least another week.” Josie giggles. “Power of the pussy. More than enough time to solve this murder. Get your shit. Let’s go bust this case wide open. Also, bring some cookies. Everyone likes your chocolate chunky Santa cookies.”
“I don’t thinkshe’s going to be here,” I tell Josie as she marches up the steps to Mrs. Locke’s house. “Like, everyone in town is talking about it. Maris must have flown the coop, right?”
“Maybe her granny will know where she went.”
But Mrs. Locke doesn’t open the door. Instead, it’s Maris. Josie and I scream when we see her standing there with a gun.
“Come in,” Maris says after a moment.
“Uhhhhhh.”
“I’m not going to shoot you in the house. My grandmother would kill me. Tea?” she offers, gesturing to the dining room table, where an array of hunting rifles are on display.
Josie and I look at each other. I know we’re both thinking of the poison.
“No, thank you?” I swallow.
