Seagulls circle overhead like feathered vultures, probably hoping Jordy drops something edible while he directs the staff in breaking down what’s left of the most spectacular wedding reception Maine has ever witnessed.
“Pass the mimosas,” Georgie announces, sliding into her chair wearing oversized sunglasses and what appears to be the same sequined dress from last night. “I need something to wash downthe taste of witnessing a public make-out session between the bride and the best man.”
“It’s ten in the morning,” Mom points out, though she’s already reaching for the pitcher. Her hair looks like she stuck her finger in an electrical socket, and there’s glitter on her cheek from heaven knows where.
“Liquor. It’s what’s for breakfast,” Georgie replies. “Plus, I earned this mimosa. Do you know how traumatic it is to watch your crush get tongue-wrestled by a woman who was married to a killer for exactly four hours?”
The hoomans are being dramatic again,Fish yowls from her sunny spot on the railing.Though I have to admit, last night was entertaining.
I still can’t believe Charlotte kissed Conrad right in front of the wedding guests,Sherlock woofs, sprawled under the table where he’s clearly hoping for strategic food dropping.That takes guts.
Or complete shamelessness,Candy adds with a bark while trotting up from the beach with sand on her fluffy white paws.I missed all the good drama because Macy locked me in the cottage during the arrest.
You would have just barked at the patrol cars,Fish points out.
Exactly!Candy counters.That’s what makes it fun.
“Speaking of Conrad,” Macy says, appearing with a plate of leftover wedding cake that probably costs more per slice than most people spend on a week’s worth of groceries, “anyone else want to place bets on how long that relationship lasts? Emmie says six weeks; I say three.”
She’s wearing a tank top and shorts, her vanilla blonde hair pulled back into a messy bun, looking like the only person at this table who actually got a decent night’s sleep. By contrast, Jordy looks as if he was up all night. It just goes to show my sister was born to party.
“Three weeks?” Camila scoffs, setting up her camera to document what she’s probably going to callPost-Murder Brunch: ACider Cove Story. She smirks. “I give it three days. The man just watched his best friend get arrested for murder. He’s either completely heartless or running on pure adrenaline.”
“Could be both,” Leo suggests, appearing with a tray of coffee that smells like heaven and looking surprisingly awake for a deputy who spent half the night processing a crime scene. “Some people compartmentalize trauma by jumping into the next available distraction.”
“Or,” I add, accepting the coffee gratefully, “some people are just really, really good at being terrible human beings.”
Jasper joins us holding our sweet baby girl in his arms, looking like he actually managed to shower and change clothes, which puts him ahead of most of us in the personal hygiene department. Ella is babbling happily and trying to grab the ribbons from last night’s decorations that are still clinging to Mom’s hair. “Did I miss the character assassination portion of brunch?” Jasper asks as he lands next to me, and I steal that peanut from his arms and kiss her face silly.
“We’re just getting warmed up, hot stuff,” Georgie announces with obvious glee. “I was about to dissect Conrad’s commitment phobia and analyze his daddy issues, while Emmie here was going to explain why men think biceps solve emotional problems.”
“I was not going to explain anything about biceps,” Emmie protests. “I was making an observation about human behavior patterns.”
“Same thing,” Mom says, liberally applying syrup to what appears to be leftover wedding cake disguised as French toast. “Pass the bacon. Murder investigations make me hungry.”
Pass the bacon my way, too,Sherlock barks, and Mom is quick to oblige him with enough salted meat to qualify as a religious experience. Mom doesn’t have to read minds to know what that cute pooch was asking for.
Jordy appears at the edge of our little breakfast gathering, looking harried and holding what appears to be a clipboardcovered in glitter. “Bizzy, I’ve got good news and weird news about the cleanup.”
“Hit me with the weird news first,” I tell him. “I need to ease into good news these days.”
Ella claps and squeals as if she can hardly wait to hear everything, weird news and all.
“We found over a dozen cell phones hidden in various flower arrangements, all apparently belonging to Charlotte’s social media team, who were documenting every angle of the reception.”
“That’s not weird, that’s terrifying,” Macy scoffs. “How many people does it take to film one wedding?”
“According to the phones, approximately seventeen,” Jordy replies. “The good news is that most of the decorations are reusable, so we can probably rent them out for future events. Assuming anyone wants to book the location where a groom got arrested for murder.”
“Oh, they will,” Camila says with confidence. “Nothing sells wedding venues quite like a good murder story. You should add it to your marketing materials.”
She’s not wrong,Mom thinks.At least the bodies are good for business—morbid curiosity pays the bills. Bizzy should jump at the chance.
“No,” I tell her without hesitation.
“I didn’t say anything!” Mom protests.
“You were thinking it loud enough for the neighbors to hear.”
