My head lands right next to another head—one with auburn hair and hazel eyes staring straight up at the starry sky.
A gasp fills my throat as I inch back before glancing down to see the wooden handle of a knife sticking out of the poor woman’s chest like some twisted exclamation point.
Tessa won’t have to worry about growing her wedding planning business anymore.
Tessa Greene is dead.
CHAPTER 3
There are very few things worse than falling face-first into sand, but landing nose-to-nose with a corpse definitely tops the list.
Nothing ruins a perfectly romantic beach evening quite like discovering a dead wedding planner with a knife sticking out of her chest.
I let out a scream that could shatter coconuts and probably wake the dead in three counties. The scent of sunscreen and barbecue smoke still hangs in the humid night air, but now it’s mixed with something metallic and wrong. The tiki torches continue their cheerful flickering, completely oblivious to the fact that our luau just became a crime scene.
“Stay back,” Jasper says, dropping to his knees beside Tessa’s body. He checks for a pulse on her neck, then shakes his head grimly. “She’s gone.”
He whips out his phone, already switching into detective mode. “I need to call this into the station and get the coroner down here.”
He helps me to my feet, brushing sand off my sundress, then steps away to make the official call. His voice carries over thegentle lapping of waves as he reports our latest disaster to dispatch.
Oh, not another body.Fish gives a sharp meow, trotting onto the scene with the casual air of a cat who’s seen this show one too many times before.Bizzy, your inn really needs a better way to screen guests. Providing the killer is a guest at all.
That makes what—seven bodies this year?Sherlock pants.This place is cursed. I’m starting to think we need a pet psychic. Or holy water,he adds, sniffing delicately around the perimeter.This has officially turned into a murder mystery party. Murder and mai tais— Hey? It’s got a ring to it!
Cinnamon and Gatsby bound up behind them, neither looking particularly shocked by the corpse situation.
Oh, good grief. It’s another average night in Cider Cove,Cinnamon says with a bark.At least this one didn’t happen at the buffet.
There’s always a silver lining,Gatsby agrees.Though I was hoping for more shrimp at this party, less corpses.
The four of them immediately surround poor Truffle, who’s still yipping frantically beside the woman lying among us, and I hitch my head toward Fish because frankly, she knows exactly what to do in situations like these.
Come on, little one,Fish mewls gently.You don’t need to see any of this.You’re staying with us tonight. We’ve got snacks.
And Bizzy will track down whoever did this to your lady,Sherlock promises with a soft bark.She’s got a perfect record for these things. Well, perfect if you don’t count the number of times she almost gets herself killed in the process.
It’s true. I cringe a little at the thought. It’s been a rough few years around here, but I always get my man—or woman. And thankfully, I’ve lived to tell the tale.
We’re taking Truffle back to the cottage,Fish meows my way, and I give a quick nod.She needs somewhere safe to process all this chaos.
The pack trots off together with Truffle nestled protectively in their midst, leaving me alone with a corpse and way too many questions on my hands.
I look back at the body and quickly scan the sand around it. I can’t help but note deep footprints everywhere—some from Jasper and me, but others that were clearly here before we arrived. The sand is churned up like there was a struggle, which means some of these prints must belong to the killer.
I pull out my phone and snap a quick picture of the scene. The flash goes off like lightning, and suddenly half the beach starts migrating toward us as if they’ve been summoned by a dinner bell.
“Jordy,” I say his name as I shoot my handyman—and on occasion, security detail—a quick text.Bring rope. And maybe a tranquilizer dart. People are starting to circle like buffet vultures. There’s been another murder and I need you to help with some serious crowd control.
The howl of sirens wails in the distance, getting closer by the second. And no matter the fact that Jordy shows up as quick as lightning, he can’t seem to corral the guests back toward the inn. There’s nothing stopping the mob that’s wandering this way like curious zombies drawn to drama.
“What in tarnation is going on over here?” Mom appears first, an entire ten feet ahead of the crowd, still clutching her wide-brimmed hat, with Georgie right behind her, coconut shells and all.
“Well, somebody’s been naughty.” Georgie gasps, then immediately perks up. “Our lives are just like one of those mystery shows, but with better catering. I’m excited to get the whodunnit done.”
“Georgie!” Mom swats at her. “Show some respect for the deceased.”
“I am! I’m respectfully excited.”
