Truffle watches us from a shaded spot under one of the linen-draped cocktail tables, panting softly while keeping a watchful eye on me as if I might be the next one to have a knife in her chest.
Kiki turns to look at me, and I’m struck by how different she looks from the composed lawyer I’ve been seeing all week. Her emerald eyes are bright with unshed tears, and her perfect composure has finally shattered like a mirror dashed to the floor. The humidity has caused a few dark strands to escape her usually pristine updo, and there’s a slight tremor in her hands as she sets down her untouched champagne flute on the nearby garden table adorned with white peonies.
“Oh, Bizzy,” she says with a bitter laugh. “What can I help you with?” she quickly wipes away her tears. “Sorry. I tend to get emotional at weddings.”Especially when the love of my life marries a nincompoop,she thinks with a bitter scowl before forcing a smile.
Around us, the string quartet switches to something that sounds fancy and wedding-appropriate while servers dodge between guests with champagne glasses that sparkle like expensive jewelry in the sunlight.
Charlotte’s laugh rings out across the reception as she poses for yet another photo with Conrad by the flower arch, and even from here, I can see Piers’s jaw clench as if he’s chewing glass.
“I’m here because you look like you could use a friend,” I tell her with far too much honesty. “And because I have some questions.”
“Questions about what?” One of her brows spikes in the air. “About how I just watched the man I love marry someone else? About how I was literally silenced when I tried to object? About how my entire life just imploded in front of half of Maine?” The tears start to flow as she gasps. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I said any of that out loud. I didn’t mean it.” She pinches her eyes shut. “I’m just tired. I didn’t sleep well last night, and the champagne is already getting to me. I guess I’m spiraling.”
A burst of laughter from a nearby group of guests punctuates her words, the sound almost mocking in its timing. Someone’sgolden retriever—one of the guest’s dogs, I assume—trots past us with a white bow tie around his collar, his tail wagging as he searches for dropped hors d’oeuvres.
I wince over at Kiki. She’s spiraling, all right. And it’s time to push a little harder.
“My questions actually have to do with Tessa Greene,” I say quietly.
Kiki’s face goes white, her sun-kissed complexion suddenly looking gray. “What about her?”
“About why you killed her.”
The accusation sits between us like an unwelcome wedding guest. Around us, the reception rages on—people laughing, glasses clinking, the string quartet doing their fancy wedding music thing. But right here in our little corner of drama, it’s like someone hit the pause button.
“I didn’t kill Tessa,” Kiki says, but her voice lacks conviction.
“You had motive.” I continue, “I heard Tessa knew about your plan to object at the wedding.” Did I hear that? Does it matter?
“Yes,” Kiki says suddenly, the words tumbling out with the force of a dam bursting. “Yes, I was going to object, and I was foolish enough to bring it up to Tessa.” She glances around nervously, then steps closer to me, lowering her voice. “Tessa works—worked—at the law office where I practice. Conrad’s been utilizing our firm as a client for his investment banking deals.”
I raise an eyebrow. “So Conrad’s around the office often?”
“Often enough. That’s how Piers met Tessa in the first place. He’s always with Conrad. I’m not sure what happened to his business, but I think it took a tumble.” Her voice takes on a bitter edge. “He visits me at the office often because he still loves me—I know he does. He hired Tessa for this train wreck because he thought getting a wedding planner from my firm would somehow... I don’t know, keep me involved? Make me change my mind about him? I have no idea why he chose her. In fact, she didn’t even have a wedding planning side gig until he hired her.”
“This was her first wedding event?”
She nods.
The irony isn’t lost on me. Piers essentially hired his own doom by bringing Tessa into their lives.
I think back on the name of Tessa’s business—Something Borrowed, Knot Your Average Wedding. Oh wow. And now I’m wondering if there isn’t some ironic meaning in the name.
“Of course, once Tessa found out about my plan to object, she threatened me,” Kiki continues, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. “She wanted a hefty wad of cash in return for her silence. Can you believe that? She was going toblackmailme to keep quiet about my own feelings.”
“You had the opportunity. You were at the kickoff luau. You had access to the catering area where the knife came from.”
“So did everyone else!”
“And you slapped her. You’re a lawyer, Kiki. You know darn well that’s assault. And you also know how to plan, how to execute, how to cover your tracks.”
She stares at me for a long moment, and I can practically see her internal debate playing out across her face. Denial or confession? Lies or truth? But oddly, not a thought crosses her mind.
“You want to know what really happened?” she asks with a blink.
“I’m all ears.”
Kiki glances around before stepping in close. “Yes, I was planning to object at the wedding. Yes, Tessa found out about it and tried to blackmail me. I may have slapped her, but I didn’t kill her.”
