“Oh yeah?” I can’t keep the suspicion out of my voice.
Josie misinterprets it. “I swear I’m not trying to cut you out or anything bad! Lydia just had so much tea to spill about Taylor Grace. I thought maybe I could learn something, since I was, like, a neutral third party, you know?”
“No, no, I’m not mad. I just—I heard Lydia and her husband talking at the Christmas market the night I was locked in the shed,” I whisper. “And I just remembered when you said that.”
Josie’s eyes widen when I recount the conversation. “Yeah, that is suspicious. I know Travis can’t—or couldn’t—standTaylor Grace and Lydia was tired of her nonsense, but I never thought they’d murder her.”
“We should go see Hughes first.”
“Now who’s trying to bring men between our friendship?” Josie jokes as we head to the Christmas market. “Or are you trying to get out of the play-by-play?”
“I’m not trying to. We will go get all the drinks, but Hughes copied Taylor Grace’s phone, and he has her text messages.”
Josie is speechless for a second. “Damn. Girl, I hope you gave that man a blow job.”
28
HUGHES
“Ineed a house.”
“Buy one that you can parcel out and rent to multiple families,” Nana tells me, sitting beside me at the table in the Jingle Bites Café. “Like a quadplex. Then you don’t have to move out during Christmas. Or get one with an attic that’s not up to code.”
Willow’s not at the cafe. Unfortunately. The entire rest of the town, however, is. I had to agree to take photos with tourists so I could get a table. One lady is recording her true crime podcast on the murders from the seat by the window. The teenager manning the counter looks flustered by the crowd.
“Oh my god, there you are!” Rose cries out when she sees Willow.
Willow and Josie help clear out some of the tourist crowd, then they both come over to me.
“Can’t chat long, but we want to give you an update.” Willow gives me a quick kiss.
“Wait,” I say when they’re done. “So, Maris isn’t the killer?”
“I don’t think so.”
“But,” Josie says, “we have another lead. Lydia.”
“The sister? Hmm.” I frown.
“Did you go through the text messages yet?” Willow asks.
“Been reading through the ones between Taylor and the therapist. They were definitely having an affair. Also, for what it’s worth, she appeared to be texting Damien right before she was in the shop the night she died. I got the police video—she goes into the shop at 8:17 p.m., but then,” I add, “the video cuts out.”
“But why?”
“Well, nothing that she texted Damien gives me any clues. It’s just insanity.” I show her.
“See if there’s anything from Lydia.”
They watch me type “L” into the search bar. Then the messages from Lenore pop up.
“Oooh, wait, what’s that?” Willow points.
Lenore:You’re having an affair with my husband! Skank!
Taylor Grace:You’re so delusional. It’s the menopause. He loves me not you.
Taylor Grace:He never loved you.
