“Knock it off, Doodle Bop,” Erwin calls out. “I can fix this.”
Did he just call her Doodle Bop?
I’d like tobopthem both over the head.
Erwin, displaying a romantic sensitivity that contributed to our divorce and definitely explains his approach to problem-solving, dunks Candy underwater without warning. He brings her up with her hair slicked back like a seal discovering the joys of emergency hair management.
Candy emerges from her unexpected baptism and immediately lets out an ear-piercing belch—a sound that echoes off jungle walls and goes against several social media community standards. Birds in nearby trees fall silent, shocked by this breach of tropical etiquette.
“CUT!” she yells at Della, who immediately stops filming and swims away, understanding that some moments are too authentic for public consumption.
“So,” I say pleasantly, positioning myself within conversation range while treading water like a casual waterfall socializer, “how is wedding planning treating you so far? Besidesthe hiking disasters and hair emergencies?” I leave out the homicide for now.
“Oh,Jinx,” Erwin says with a condescending tone that makes me understand why some people choose violence as a hobby. “Always showing up where you’re not wanted. Some things never change.”
“Like your charming personality,” I reply sweetly, because I seem to enjoy verbal sparring in nature’s swimming pools. “Speaking of things that don’t change—what did you think of that poor woman who was killed on night one of your festivities?” I look at Candy. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Candy squints at me like she hasn’t a clue as to what I’ve just alluded to.
“Your business manager, Alana?” I say with a nod, hoping to strike a chord, or find a functioning brain cell.
Erwin’s expression shifts to something resembling a man trying to navigate a conversation minefield while treading water. “Alana was a professional. She was very focused on her work. Maybe too focused, if you know what I mean.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” I tell him. “Enlighten me.”
“Let’s just say she had very strong opinions about wedding arrangements,” he goes on. “And business arrangements. And basically, any arrangements that didn’t go exactly her way.”
She sounds an awful lot like the bride. No wonder they got along so well. Theydidshare a brain. And unfortunately, Alana took it with her.
A small gecko appears on a rock near the waterfall anddoes a few tiny push-ups before settling in to observe human drama in tropical settings.
“Strong opinions about what specifically?” I press, because I’ve committed to this interrogation regardless of aquatic challenges. I can feel a leg cramp coming on, but I try to ignore it.
“Money, mostly,” Erwin offers. “It was always about money with that one. She acted like every dollar spent was coming out of her personal account instead of, you know, being payment for services we’d already agreed to.”
Candy’s expression shifts from post-belch embarrassment to something resembling genuine sadness, which is more emotional range than I’ve seen from her since she arrived. “She was like, my friend, you know? We had so many plans together. She was going to help me expand my brand into lifestyle consulting.”
“But?” I prompt, recognizing the universal pause that precedes important revelations.
“But lately she’d been so weird about everything. Like, super stressed about money and contracts and all that boring business stuff I don’t understand. She kept talking about financial security and protecting her interests, like she was planning for nuclear warfare instead of wedding planning.”
The gecko nods sagely, agreeing with this assessment of Alana’s recent behavior patterns.
“You know who you should really talk to?” Candy continues, deciding that sharing information is therapeutic. “Halea.” She says the woman’s name like it were an expletive. “She and Alana had this huge fight the night of the murder.”
“What kind of fight?”
“Something about territory and clients and business ethics,” Candy goes on. “Halea was like, super angry about Alana trying to steal her client base or something. I don’t really understand business drama, but it was totes intense. Halea used words I’m pretty sure I can’t say on any of my social media accounts.”
“This sounds totes serious,” I say, and mean it. Funny, Halea didn’t mention any of that when we had our little chat. Or did she? That jungle hike seems to have stolen a few of my brain cells.
Erwin starts making not-so-subtle hand gestures like slitting his throat with his finger, which suggests he’d prefer Candy to stop sharing information with his ex-wife in public swimming facilities.
“And Bertha!” Candy continues, immune to her husband’s nonverbal communication attempts. “Oh my gosh, that battleaxe had it out for Alana from day one. Something about her inappropriate influence on family financial decisions and the fact that she was an outsider with questionable motives.”
I seem to recall her saying those exact things to me just prior to my jaunt down the aisle. I should have taken it for the warning it was.
I clear my throat. “And what do you think she meant by that exactly?” There’s no way I’m wiping Bertha from mysuspect list just because she seems to be following her own terroristic protocol.
