She walks swiftly to the far end of the platform with her phone already at her ear, turning her back to ensure privacy. I quickly follow her out, pretending to be fascinated by a nearby souvenir stand while straining to hear snippets of her conversation.
“...found the evidence... yes, on the USB... recordings of all of them... no, she doesn’t suspect... meeting at the viewpoint...”
Harper returns looking slightly flushed, tucking her phone into her designer handbag. “Ready for the bus?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
The journey to the Stegastein Viewpoint takes us along winding mountain roads that would make a roller coaster engineer jealous. Our minibus climbs ever higher, revealing panoramic views of the fjord below that seem almost unreal in their perfection.
When we finally arrive, the viewpoint lives up to its reputation. A glass-floored platform extends from the mountainside like an architect’s dare, offering an unobstructed view of the Aurlandsfjord many jarring miles below. The drop is so sheer it makes my stomach do somersaults just looking at it.
I step to the left of the glass platform and peer over the edge for one insane second.
“Geez!” I gasp as I take a full step back. My ears are ringing, and the ground below seems to be pulsating up and down.
“Magnificent, isn’t it?” Harper says, stepping onto the glass platform without hesitation. “The engineers designed it to create the illusion of floating in mid-air.”
“The illusion is working a little too well,” I reply, cautiously joining her while trying not to look directly down.
Oh my word. I’ve never been more afraid in my life to take another step. And all the while I envision the glass beneath my feet crackling like ice and the two of us plunging to our deaths.
Ransom would not be thrilled.
Our camera crew sets up at a discreet distance, while Bess, Nettie, Tinsley, and Elodie are positioned as casual tourists admiring the view—safe and on land.
“Trixie,” Harper says suddenly, her voice lower than before, “what doyouknow about Madison’s death?”
The abrupt change in topic catches me off guard, and I glance to the left to see a camera trained on us from afar, and I know full well they can hear every word. “Only that someone stuck a knife in her chest.”
“And that you found her body.” She gives a dark smile that lets me know she’s not above pinning this catastrophe on me.
“It was an unfortunate coincidence.”
“I don’t believe in coincidences,” Harper says, opening her notebook and turning it toward me. “I believe in patterns. Remember?”
She holds the book open my way, and my eyes quickly scan it. The pages reveal a meticulously documented timeline of events surrounding Madison’s death, including detailed observations about each trophy wife’s whereabouts, statements, and suspicious behaviors.
“Hey, you’ve really been investigating,” I say, scanning the pages with growing interest.
“Madison Rothschild was many things—shallow, manipulative, opportunistic—but she was also methodical in her own way,” Harper explains, her voice still low enough that the microphones won’t catch it. “She collected secrets like trading cards.”
“What kind of secrets?” I whisper back.
“The kind people kill for.” Harper flips to another page, revealing a detailed entry about Beth Williams. “Your sugar sweet friend, for instance. Did you know that before she married Lance Williams, she worked as a pharmaceutical researcher? Specializing in toxicology.”
“Beth?” I can’t keep the surprise from my voice. “But she seems so...”
“Harmless?” Harper raises an eyebrow. “That’s her greatest asset.”
“What about the others?” I ask, glancing at Val’s entry, which contains multiple question marks around her charity finances.
“Everyone had a reason to want Madison gone,” Harper says. “She was planning to use their secrets as leverage for her own advantage in the show and beyond. She had dirt on all of us.”
“Including you?”
Harper’s expression hardens. “My past is complicated. Madison discovered certain... let’s just call them irregularities in my previous business ventures. Nothing illegal, but potentially damaging to my current investments.”
“So you had motive, too,” I point out.
