Page 79 of My Sister is Going to Kill Me

“The product is safe,” Fiona insisted. “CareFree has always been safe, even when it wasn’t working properly. That’s not what killed them.”

“Then what did?” Liv prompted. “Fiona, if there’s something wrong with CareFree . . .”

The dermatologist looked at Charlie and Devon again. They were standing now, heading back to the camp chairs. “The product is ready for market. It’s incredible. Transformational.”

It sounded like Fiona was telling the truth, even as she was hiding something at the same time.

“Why are you here?” Mandy asked softly.

“Same reason as you,” Fiona said. “Babette invited me.”

“Why?”

The blond woman looked at her. “I wish I knew.”

Fiona flipped her water bottle over and back, over and back. Glittering charcoal spun and danced from end to end, as if the bottle were an hourglass gone haywire.

Finally, she spoke. “After Justine died, I pitched a proposal for how to manage the more volatile parts of CareFree’s manufacturing process. Instead of considering it, Devon fired me. Babette and Charlie backed her up. That was a year ago. Since then, I’ve had no contact with the company beyond the negotiation of my severance package and the reports they have to send to everyone who has shares in the business. Then, out of the blue, Babette called me two weeks ago. She said she needed my help, that she’d tell me everything when I got here. Instead . . .”

Fiona flipped her water bottle over again.

“Babette died in the same way as Justine,” Liv said. “Which was?”

Fiona grimaced once, quickly, a razor slicing across her perfect face. “I can’t talk about that.”

“Do you think the product they’re going to release is dangerous?” Liv asked.

“I’m telling you, CareFree is fine. I genuinely believe it’s going to change the world.”

“And whatever it is Babette wanted to talk with you about?”

“It dies with her, I suppose. Devon sees me as a threat. Charlie does whatever his sisters demand. They aren’t going to listen to me.” Fiona looked down at her empty, sparkling container. “Now if you’ll excuse me, my hydration is calling.”

The dermatologist stalked away, clutching her thermos like a weapon.

“Well,” Liv said.

“Well,” Mandy said.

“Your tortillas are burning.”

Ouch. Liv was right. And had returned to her lifelong occupation of pointing out Mandy’s undependability. “Tacos hardly seem like the priority right now.”

“When you agree to a job, you should do it well.”

Then Liv looked her right in the eye.

“What you did there,” Liv said. “How you led her in?”

Mandy was on guard now, waiting to be chastised for not following her sister’s lead.

“It was great,” Liv said. She reached out and tucked in a corner of Mandy’s sarong that was flirting with the fire. “Now pay attention to the griddle. If that’s how Fiona acts when she’s dehydrated, I don’t want to see what happens if she goes hungry.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

Liv spent the rest of the time before dinner mulling over the riddle of Fiona’s words. There was something wrong with CareFree that had killed Justine Long and Babette Sauvage. But it wasn’t the product, or the plant. Which left . . . what? The packaging? Some other ingredient?

By the time the conch shell blew, Liv decided to recommit her energy to something more pressing: the question of who had killed Babette. No one around the circle of camping chairs gave off the strong impression of having just murdered someone. On the contrary, dinner went surprisingly well. Thor made margaritas that were mostly tequila. Charlie had two, Stefan five, and even Fiona accepted one, claiming the salt around the rim had medicinal benefits. The tacos were delicious, if charred, and the way Mandy drew people out of their funk was downright masterful. Her little sister seemed to know exactly whom to smile at and whom to leave alone. By the time dessert was served—pineapple upside-down cake flipped from a cast-iron skillet, smothered in gleaming caramel—the earlier tension had melted into a fragile peace.