25. Hattie

"Let's go talk to her," Chevy says, taking off in that direction, and both Hillary and Bunny take off after the woman.

"Wait for me," I call out, and before we know it, we're just feet from the puddle that Jane lost her life in. Since it's a natural formation in the sand, there wasn't a lot we could do about it other than keep it roped off this evening. I removed the bright yellow caution tape and opted for red, white, and blue garland from the Crafty Treehouse. There's a small mound of withered flowers at the base of it, and Missy Livingston is standing with her head in her hands until she hears us rustling, then she just about pops out of her skin.

"Oh geez, you scared me." She gives a nervous laugh while pressing a hand to her chest. "Are you ladies out here to pay your respects, too?"

"No," Chevy says sharply. "We're here to ask why you felt the need to…"

"Teach such addicting classes," I finish for her. "The members just can't stop raving about how fun these past two weeks have been." I shoot Chevy a look that says slow your homicidal roll.

"Oh, really? Why, thank you," Missy marvels and her teeth shine like beacons in a dark cave. Finally, I've hit the jackpot. I knew these rich witches would slurp up whatever slop I was feeding them. And I'm finally going to be able to keep a roof over my head again—hopefully in the right neighborhood.

That's it. Nobody calls my club members witches—with the exception of me on the odd occasion.

"We know who you really are," I seethe, eliciting a gasp from Bunny, Chevy, and Hillary.

She really does have lady balls.Bunny chortles to herself.

Lady what? I glance her way for a brief moment.

"Missy"—I say, reverting my attention to the brunette on hand—"or should I say, Lochlin?"

Lochlin is such a glorious name,Chevy muses to herself. I don't care how badly my father would have embarrassed me, there's no way I'd change it to something average like Missy.

I completely believe her. Although I happen to think Missy is downright adorable.

I nod to Missy—or Lochlin or whoever she wants to be. "You're not all that sorry that Jane is gone, are you?"

"What?" She takes a full step back and nearly ends up in the same body of water that did Jane in. "I think Jane was a wonderful person." When she wasn't busy berating me, she thinks to herself.

"Missy"—I'm going to keep calling her that because I don't have the bandwidth to rewire my brain—"we know that you changed your name because of what your father did. We don't fault you for that."

Hillary steps up as a dry laugh escapes her. "What we fault you for is perpetuating your five-finger discount habits here at the country club."

"Have there been thefts?" I practically gag on the words.

Hillary nods, still staring down our suspect. "I'm betting there have been."

"Well, if there were thefts, I'm not responsible for them," Missy is quick to refute the charges. But believe me, I was tempted. She frowns at the thought. Hey? Maybe they've caught on to the fact I inflated my service fee? For goodness' sake, it's like you can't get away with anything in this world anymore.

She's got that right.

"Missy," I practically whisper this time. "Jane knew about how you ran your books, didn't she? She must have seen the discrepancies between the invoices you charged and the dollar amount you accrued. Were you hoping she wouldn't notice?"

Chevy steps forward. "Or were you dumb enough not to notice yourself?"

"Excuse me?" Missy gasps.

"Excuse nothing," Hillary seethes. "You killed Jane Jordan because she was about to send you up the river right alongside your father."

Missy's jaw dislodges and ends up somewhere around her ankles.

"Okay, so I wanted her dead, but believe me, I'm no killer," Missy pants. "Yes, Jane and I exchanged words the night she died, but that's as far as it went. She grew sleepy and started to slur her words. I suggested she walk off the liquor and told her we'd talk once she cooled off." She glances to the small pond to our left. "And that's why she was here, I guess. So I guess in that way her death is my fault." I'd give anything to take back those words. And now the death of that poor woman is going to haunt me for the rest of my life, and no amount of coloring books is ever going to take that pain away.

I shake my head at my three accomplices, and one by one Bunny, Chevy, and Hillary drift back toward the party.

"I'm sorry, Missy." I shrug her way. "I guess my friends and I were just a little too eager to solve the case." I should have factored in the Quaaludes before I attacked this poor girl. Although, don't think for a minute I won't be amending the bill she sent to the club.

"You really think someone killed Jane?"

I shrug. "Stranger things have happened. And you, of all people, have witnessed her dark side. Jane had a little bite to her."

A laugh bubbles from her. "A little? Once Jane clamped down on you, she didn't let go. If someone did do her in, they must have had one killer secret to hide. And believe me, Jane always found out where the bodies were buried."

"That's why she was the best of the best," I say.

Missy nods. "And that's probably why she's dead."

Ain't that the truth.

She winces my way as she steps forward. "Oh wow, those emerald earrings. Where did you get them? They look just like the ones my grandmother used to have."

"These little things?" My fingers float to my left earlobe.

She sucks in a lungful of air before she can answer. I think those are the earrings my grandmother used to have! At least I know where the scum landed my granny's treasures. I'm shocked she's not wearing the brooch and the opal necklace to complete the collection.

The brooch! She knows about the brooch. But what opal necklace? It sounds as if my stalker is starting to slack off.

"Missy, you know all about these earrings, don't you? Where did they come from?"

She lifts her chin. "Let's just say an old friend was helping me out by taking them off my hands." So my landlord didn't take my apartment off my hands.

"What was the name of your friend?" I say the words so fast they string out in one long word.

"You wouldn't know him," she says, making her way around me. "That was part of the deal when I sold him the pieces—I promised I wouldn't out him." And here I thought he was giving them to his wife. Jeremy Goodwin is a louse through and through. But then, I already knew that.

She takes off for the party and I shake my head her way.

Who the heck is Jeremy Goodwin?