“Jealous? Why?”
“You get to work with Brad all day, every day.”
Evie laughed. “He won’t be here much. He’s mostly at the main office or out on the yachts.”
“Still…”
“I promise to make sure no one flirts with him,” Evie whispered conspiratorially.
Charmaine hid a smile behind her hand. “I’ve never had such a good looking boyfriend before, and I’m not used to all the stares he gets. I still don’t know what he sees in me.”
Evie waved a hand. “Oh, stop with that nonsense. You’re a great catch. He sees how lovely you are. He’s a smart guy.”
“Halloooo?” Bea’s voice echoed through the open space. She angled her head through the doorway, and her gaze met Charmaine. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair messy. Her eyes were glassy, and she blinked repeatedly.
Charmaine stood to her feet. “Are you okay, Bea?”
Bea hurried inside, shut the door behind her, and glanced out the window, peering as best she could around the two women. “Can we pull the blinds on those windows?”
Evie frowned. “Um… Sure, okay.” She closed the blinds on the line of windows with one push of a button against the wall. The blinds whirred shut slowly until the women stood in darkness.
“Light switch?” Bea’s voice rang out.
“By the door,” Evie replied.
The shop sprang to life with the lights overhead flickering on all at once. Bea strode across the floor and stopped in front of Charmaine and Evie.
“I have to tell you something, but we’re all going to need a stiff drink. What can we drink, Evie?”
Evie glanced around the shop strewn with half-empty boxes and pieces of semi-finished furniture. “Well… I think there’s some kombucha in the kitchen.”
“That will have to do,” Bea replied.
Evie hurried to pour three glasses of kombucha and brought them back on a tray beside a pile of crackers and cheese on a very white brand-new plate.
“Everything’s white, huh?” Bea asked.
“White, white, white,” Evie replied with crossed eyes. “Your brother loves it. I’m coming around. Chaz thinks I can add splashes of colour.”
Bea laughed. “Good luck with that. Let’s sit. You’re not going to believe what happened.”
By the time Bea had finished telling Charmaine and Evie what Betsy had said and done, Charmaine could barely contain herself. She leapt to her feet and paced to the windows, then back again.
“She told you all this stuff?”
“Yep, blurted it out like she’s been wanting to spill for a long time and was glad someone finally asked.”
“That’s so strange,” Evie replied, her eyes wide and staring blankly at the ground. “How could Betsy kill anyone? She’s so nice.”
“I don’t think she’s very nice. Stabbing someone to death puts a bit of a damper on the wholenice-old-ladyimage.” Bea shook her head. “What kind of person…?”
“Clearly a psychopath,” Evie said.
Charmaine paced some more. “But … it doesn’t make sense. And yet it does. I still can’t believe it. She’s my boss, my friend. I’ve come to see her as family, since I lost my own. And now? Now what?” A lump built rapidly in her throat. This couldn’t be happening.
Bea hurried to her side. “I’m sorry—I wasn’t thinking. Of course you’d be upset. I shouldn’t have told you—at least, not like that. I’m so shocked about the whole thing; I’m not seeing things clearly.”
“It’s not your fault,” Charmaine murmured. “Only I still can’t take it in.”
