Snip Once, Die Twice

A Spring Harbor Cozy Mystery

Amber Crewes

Pen-n-a-Pad Publishing

Published by Pen-n-a-Pad Publishing in 2024

All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright © Pen-n-a-Pad Publishing

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

WHY DON’T YOU SIGN UP FOR UPDATES AND GET THE PREQUEL STORY FROM THE SANDY BAY SERIES SENT TO YOU FOR FREE

Click Here to Receive Updates and the Prequel

1

“Are you sure that’s everything?” Alex asked before closing the door to Summer’s room at The Manor House Inn for the last time.

“I’m leaving with way more than I came with,” Summer said, trying to heft the box of winter clothes onto her hip.

“That’s what we love to hear! Though you no longer count as a tourist.” She gave Summer a wink.

“No, I suppose I don’t.” Considering they were moving the last of Summer’s things to her new apartment, which happened to be in Alex’s building, Summer would say she was now a local.

And buying the salon, she reminded herself, though that remained to be seen. The way things had been going with Mrs. Beesley lately, she was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Alex let the door close with a heavy click, then turned to Summer with a big smile. Summer never noticed before, but Alex had one of those smiles people said lit up a room. Which she took full credit for, considering she was the one who gave her friend the new do.

Alex’s dark brown waves always fell at her shoulders, which framed her face well enough, especially with her giant doe eyes. But just this week, when she came in to have Summer chop it all up again like she usually wore it, Summer convinced her to get longer layers. Now, with the new cut framing her face, and some blow drying techniques Summer showed her, Alex could easily walk one of Vanessa’s runways.

“My turn to drive,” Summer said as they exited the building for the last time.

Fitting all of Summer’s things into a little yellow punch buggy had been a challenge. And the person stuck in the passenger seat got the short end of the stick, literally. Summer’s first and only trip with the full car had her practically hugging the dashboard.

“No fair! Driving here in an empty car doesn’t count!” Alex protested, even as she walked around toward the passenger side.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad this time. There’s less stuff. And besides, you’re Fun Size.”

“Five-four is not Fun Size.”

“You’re right. And if you were five-four, I’d agree with you.” Summer flashed her friend a smile that wasn’t nearly as bright as her own and shoved the box into the back seat.

“Well, I hope there’s a fresh puddle waiting for you when you get home.” Alex folded her arms in mock anger in the passenger seat.

“Probably will be. Barney seems to be trying to avoid the puppy pads at this point.” Summer started the car and left The Manor House Inn.

They had discussed being roommates, but Alex’s apartment only had one room and both women had insisted the other take it. So they compromised and Summer got a studio on the same floor.

Now, standing in the middle of the wide open, and very empty room, she was happy she made this decision. She hadn’t had her own place in a while, nearly a year, actually. She’d shared an apartment with Vanessa for a while, though that was mostly like living on her own since Vanessa was never home. But after that stuff with DeVilla, Summer had been drifting from place to place. She didn’t like to think of it as being on the run, but she was glad she felt safe enough in Spring Harbor to finally stop.

She resisted the urge to say, ‘New Year, New Me.’ It wasn’t that big of a deal.

Was it?

Her phone buzzed and she assumed it was Aunt Clara asking for pictures again. She’d been stalling because she didn’t want to send pictures of an empty room. Aunt Clara might not seem like it on the surface, but that woman loved to fret.

But when she dug the phone out of her pocket, it was a news alert. WQXT had recently moved into the 21st century and created an app, and boy, were they using it! Summer received push alerts for everything from foot traffic reports on the main tourist roads to dinner specials at local restaurants. A town like Spring Harbor didn’t have much to notify people of.

“Is it the case?” Alex asked, searching in her purse for her own phone.

Summer didn’t allow herself to ask, ‘which one?’ She didn’t like to brag, but she had now been instrumental in solving two murders in town. First Marsha Peterson had been killed by her own daughter for trying to give up the life of crime. Then Francesca Monroe, aka Anna Marie, and her hired goon killed poor Patricia Rogers to keep her lawsuit from moving forward.

Maybe the news has stuff to talk about after all.

Summer checked the alert, expecting to finally see that Francesca’s man, Hank, had been apprehended.

What she saw was much worse.

‘Councilman Drew Harding’s Win in Court Today Could Lead to Freedom’

That evening, after they finished unpacking and took the dogs out for their walks, Summer and Alex lounged on the one piece of living room furniture in Summer’s apartment, a bean bag loveseat that Evan had donated to the cause. It reminded Summer of her first year out of college when she and Vanessa slept on pool floats for the first week before her parents came to visit and lost their minds.

She was a bit older now, and glad the previous tenant had left a queen size bed. It took up most of the studio, but with Barney, she needed all the space she could get. She didn’t understand how a tiny little dog could take up so much bed.

Summer kept checking her phone to see if Aunt Clara had replied to the text with the requisite pictures, but she hadn’t. She didn’t even see them yet. That wasn’t like Aunt Clara.

“Hey, what’s up?” Alex asked, taking Summer’s hand to keep her from biting her nails. It was a habit Alex called dirty, just like Summer’s mother had called it for years before she finally broke it. Now, with everything going on with DeVilla, Summer had taken it up again.

“Just worried about my aunt. Her phone keeps going to voicemail and she didn’t open my last text with the pics.” Saying it out loud made Summer’s voice tremble.

“I’m sure she’s fine. They’re in Colorado, right? Probably up a mountain somewhere with no service.” Alex’s cheery smile eased something in Summer’s chest.

“I’m sure you’re right. Old people these days. Can’t get them to pick up their phones, can you?” Still, Summer couldn’t bring herself to smile back.

“But?” Alex asked, reading Summer’s expression too well.

She’d told Evan about DeVilla, and while it had made her feel better at the time, it had also made him overprotective. And put a damper on their budding relationship. Now they were back in the friend zone and, while Summer felt that was the right thing for them, she missed the closeness they’d shared.

Did she want to risk that with Alex? The woman who was quickly becoming her new best friend? If she came clean about her true reasons for being in this tiny coastal town on the other end of the country, which ‘New Year, New Me’ would she be?

The one with a true confidant?

Or the one with no boyfriend and no friend?

“Summer,” Alex said in her best imitation of a schoolmarm. “You’ve been keeping something back the whole time I’ve known you. Now, everyone’s entitled to their secrets. And you don’t have to tell me if you truly don’t want to. But I’m here for you.”

Summer let out a breath and told Alex the truth.

“I saw some things at my old job, things I shouldn’t have. And instead of going straight to the police, I got nosey. And that led to me seeing more things I shouldn’t have. And now I’m…” She still couldn’t bring herself to say ‘on the run.’

“So cool!”

Summer’s mouth hung open. That was the farthest thing from the response she expected.

“So, you’re like in Witness Protection or something? Is Summer your real name? They could have come up with something less conspicuous than Summer Snow. Who’s in charge of that stuff? Is Aunt Clara your real aunt? Is she just a front?”

Summer put out her hand to calm Alex. “Yes, that’s my real name and she’s my real aunt. And right now, she’s gone almost an entire day without texting or answering. I’m worried.”

Alex nodded. “I’m sorry. Of course you are. But I’m sure Aunt Clara’s fine. She’s got Carl with her. He used to be a cop, didn’t he?”

“Yes, but if my boss…” Summer hesitated, not wanting to speak his name out loud. Then she decided it was now or never. “My boss, Mr. DeVilla, has people everywhere. Francesca’s hitman knew him, knew he was looking for me.” Summer waved a hand around. “That’s why I moved here. To be closer to you, of course. But also for better security.”

Summer’s thoughts went back to the day she was sure someone had been in her room at The Manor House Inn. Sheriff Brady hadn’t found anyone, and maybe it was her imagination, but she never felt safe in that room again.

“And I’m glad you did. We’ll get through this. And I’m sure Aunt Clara’s safe. She’s nowhere near Spring Harbor.”

Though, even as she said it, Summer couldn’t shake the feeling in the pit of her stomach. Aunt Clara might not be in Spring Harbor, but where was she? And why wasn’t she answering?

2

The next morning, Summer dropped Alex, Barney, and Betty off early at Sole Mate before swinging by the Spring in Your Step. Things with Evan and her had been going well since they had a long talk about their friendship, which they both realized meant more to them than a possible romance. They had settled into a comfortable routine, and hanging out at the coffee shop before her shift at the salon felt good again.

Of course, he had an iced caramel latte with extra cream and drizzle waiting for her. “Cold enough yet?” Evan asked, as he did every morning.

“Nope,” she said, which was her normal response.

“Didn’t think so.” He pushed the iced coffee closer.

There would never come a day cold enough to make her switch to a hot coffee.

Though, as Evan liked to point out, northern California gets colder than people think, and a lot colder than Atlanta.

Still, Summer took a big sip of her iced coffee and relished the moment the cold spread throughout her chest. It was one of her favorite parts of every morning. She was glad they were back to this new normal.

“What time do you go in today?” Evan stood behind the counter, waiting. Their new normal consisted of two routines. Mornings when she worked, she sipped her coffee with him for a few minutes before heading out. Mornings she started late, he came around the counter and chilled with her for a bit longer.

It always made her feel guilty that his coffee shop was slow enough to allow for it, but he assured her she always magically arrived moments after the morning rush.

“Soon,” she said. She wasn’t scheduled until eleven, but she wanted to get to the salon early to discuss some things with Mrs. Beesley. Ever since the visit from her son, Charles, things had been tense. With her new apartment and commitment to raising a puppy, Summer wanted a more solid foundation under her feet with her future employment. Her mom had said she went about it all wrong—well, backward—but coming from a mom, it’s the same thing.

Summer’s phone rang, a sound which surprised both Evan and her. She normally kept the ringer off. She didn’t know anyone who didn’t these days. But she and Barney had been choosing ring tones for everyone. It was so cute, the way his little ears flopped around when he found one he liked. And it was a sign that things really were changing.

No good amateur sleuth would dare have their ringer on. That could only lead to trouble. So by doing this, she was making herself a promise to get out of the murder business.

“Mom?” Summer said as she answered on the next ring. She had just been thinking about her mom and here she was calling. She put the call on speaker and set it on the counter so she could keep her hands free to chug her coffee.

“Hey, Sweetie. Have you heard from Aunt Clara?”

“Um, no, not for a day or so. But aren’t they still on a mountain?”

“I don’t know. Last I heard, she was supposed to be leaving yesterday and I’ve tried to call a couple of times already.”

Summer checked her phone’s time. “Mom, you remember we’re three hours behind?”

There was a moment of silence before her mom said, “Of course I do,” as if she totally didn’t. “Just let me know if she calls you, alright?”

“OK, I’ll let you know if she texts me,” Summer said, gently reminding her mother for the umpteenth time that normal people text these days, and took another sip of her coffee.

“How’s everything going? Things still on ice with that cute guy?”

Summer choked on her coffee and fumbled with the phone to take it off speaker. “I gotta go, Mom. Text you later!” She hung up before her mother could say something more incriminating.

Evan grinned and pretended to pick at the counter. “So, exactly how cute is this guy in question?”

“Not as cute as he thinks he is,” Summer said, trying to sound nonchalant, but she still had coffee stuck in her throat.

The phone rang again, saving her. This time she didn’t make the same mistake and picked it up to answer. “Sheriff?”

“Ms. Snow, I need you to come down to the station. Immediately.”

Summer started running her recent cases through her head. Did something happen with the Rogers case? Or Peterson? She hoped it wasn’t the latter. She’d kind of ghosted Marcus after he gave her his card. She wasn’t ready to buy a whole house, not while things with the salon were still up in the air.

“Ms. Snow?”

“Oh, sorry. Yes. I’ll be there as soon as-” She looked at her phone for the time again. “How long will it take? My shift starts soon.”

“I’ll speak with Mrs. Beesley. Just get down here. Thank you.”

The line went dead.

She stared at her phone, wondering if this had anything to do with her mom’s call about Aunt Clara. “I-I gotta go.”

“Let me know what happens. Good luck!” Evan called behind her.

Summer did the quick math in her head and running to the sheriff’s office would be faster than fighting traffic and parking at this time of the morning. So she took off in the direction she’d just come, barely paying attention to her surroundings.

She was so distracted, she ran right into an older gentleman, nearly knocking both of them over.

“Summer!” The man sounded glad to see her and not irritated that she’d nearly tackled him.

“Mr. Sullivan. Oh, I’m so sorry.” She grabbed his arms to make sure he was steady. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“Oh, it’s alright, dear. I was daydreaming myself. Who’s to say I didn’t run into you?”

“Well, that’s totally understandable. I forgive you. How are things?”

“As expected. I’ve got workers in the store today, tearing the rest of the place apart. Whatever the fire didn’t destroy, they’re determined to finish the job!”

“Are you rebuilding?” Summer couldn’t help but feel the pull of Sheriff Brady’s call to get to the station immediately. But she felt she owed Mr. Sullivan her full attention, too. After all, it was her fault his store burned down.

“No,” he said with a sigh. “It’s too much. The place is tainted now, you know?”

Summer nodded. She felt the same way about Atlanta. She loved the city once, but now…

“I sold.”

“Well, that’s good. Whatever makes you happy.”

“Thank you. I am happy. I’m going on the New Year’s Cruise to celebrate. First time I’ll be awake for the ball drop in decades. New lease on life for this old dog!” He jabbed his thumb into his chest. “You should come. Everybody in town goes out on the water to ring in the new year. And you’re one of us now.”

Pride swelled in Summer’s chest, almost taking over the dread that had been there since Brady’s call. “I hope I can make it,” she said.

I hope whatever’s about to happen with Sheriff Brady doesn’t change everything.

Summer and Brady sat across the desk, staring at each other. Several minutes had passed already, enough time that she now felt certain this wasn’t about Aunt Clara. Exactly what it was about, she had no clue.

“Is everything alright?”

Brady blinked, coming back to the present. “Ms. Snow, we have a problem.”

She nodded because it would have been too rude to say, ‘no duh.’

“What kind of problem?”

He hesitated once more, giving Summer’s anxiety time to barge in.

Maybe it really is about Aunt Clara and he doesn’t know how to break the news to you.

“Is it about my aunt?”

“Your what? No. It’s…the case against Drew Harding is falling apart.”

Summer’s brow furrowed. “I’m not sure what that has to do with me. I didn’t even know he was being arrested.”

“I’d like you to go speak with him. See what information you can get out of him while we still have him in custody. He’s too smart to say anything incriminating on the phone. His wife-”

“He’s married?” Somehow, that was the biggest shock she’d had since moving to Spring Harbor. Who would marry Drew Harding?

Sheriff Brady nodded. “Christina tried to get him to talk, but she’s given up. She’s moving away to stay with her sister in Albuquerque.”

Summer was sure none of this information was her business, but Sheriff Brady seemed unable to stop himself. “Still, what does any of this have to do with me?”

Didn’t I just say I wanted out of all this? And here I am talking about going into a jail to talk to a suspect?

“If we don’t get information now, he’ll slip through our fingers. Believe me, I don’t want to bring you in, but I have no choice.”

“Of course you do. And if he’s gonna get off…why is he getting off?”

Sheriff Brady threw up his hands. “Some paperwork issue. He’s gonna walk.”

“OK, but…again…why me? Any technical error will make what he says inadmissible, right? You shouldn’t want me getting anything out of him you can’t use later.”

“Not if he says it to a lay person.”

He let that sink in.

“Look,” Summer said, pushing her chair back to get up. “I’m sorry this is happening. We’d all be better off with Harding behind bars, but I can’t keep getting involved in crimes in this town. I’m trying to keep a low profile, remember?”

“And the last thing I would do is ask, if I had any other option.”

“How many people are in this town? You have thousands of options.”

“But you’re the only one he asked for.”

Summer fell back into her chair.

“Why?”

Now Brady smiled and leaned forward, clasping his hands on his desk. He looked every part the Hollywood John Wayne right now, and he knew it. “Hubris.”

“I’ll admit, he’s probably got the biggest ego in this whole state, but he’s also smart enough not to incriminate himself.”

“Only one way to find out. Go talk to him. Let him brag about how untouchable he is. Use it to help catch him in a lie or…anything. I need your help here, Ms. Snow.”

“I don’t know. I have to think about it.” She got up to leave again.

“Ms. Snow,” Brady said in a tone that chilled her. “I don’t want to play this card, but you need my protection. Someday, probably very soon, you’re going to need help.”

She knew what he was talking about. DeVilla.

This time, she was the one to lean across his desk. “You’ll help me because I live in this town. If I have to return favors for you to do your job, you’ll be sharing a cell with Harding. I’ll see to it.”

“Calm down, Ms. Snow. I’m not saying that.”

“Then what, exactly, are you saying?”

He lowered his voice, though they were alone, and his door was closed. “Your old boss isn’t exactly known for doing things through proper channels. I, perhaps, know some people who also operate in those seedy corners of the world.”

“Did you just admit to being corrupt, Sheriff Brady?” Summer emphasized his title.

“No. I reminded you that in order to catch criminals, you have to know who they are. And when the time comes when you’re in trouble, I’ll know who to call to get you out. Something one might consider…above and beyond my duties as sheriff.”

Summer took a deep breath and turned to leave. “Fine. But I’m only going in once, so get me a list of questions ready.”

As her hand touched the door knob, Brady added, “Oh, and Ms. Snow, I’ll need you to wear a wire.”

3

It was such a stressful day. Between the meeting with Sheriff Brady and her inability to corner Mrs. Beesley for their talk, Summer drove home on autopilot, which was why she found herself parked in her usual spot outside the hotel, instead of in her new spot in front of her apartment building.

“Oh well,” she said, getting out of the car. “Might as well take one last look.”

She still had the room for another couple of days, and now that everything was out of it, she could really check for any damages from Barney. She was good about keeping sight of him, and he was such a good boy, but you could never be too careful.

“Ms. Snow! Welcome back!” Cindy called from behind the front desk.

“Hi! I’m just taking a last look to make sure I didn’t forget anything.”

“Well, it’s nice to see you again. And if you give me your new address, I’ll forward anything that shows up after your month’s up.” Cindy grabbed a pen and looked at Summer expectantly.

“I…don’t remember it.” Summer laughed to play off the fib. She was going to be tight-lipped with her new address. “I’ll call in a few days to check and give you the address. How’s that?”

“Perfect!” Cindy said in her usual cheery tone.

I’m gonna miss her.

“Great. I’m just going up to do last checks before handing over the key.” Summer didn’t wait for a response.

Riding the elevator felt strange this time. Maybe it was the encounters she’d had with Martin Wellington that gave her the creeps. It turned out he didn’t murder Francesca, but the eerie feeling she’d had when riding up alone with him still lingered.

She unlocked her room door for what she expected to be the last time and a wave of nostalgia washed over her. Summer hadn’t stayed at The Manor House Inn long, but she’d felt at home in this room. She’d trained Barney to use puppy pads in that corner by the dinette. She’d watched A Christmas Story with Alex—their first Christmas as new BFFs—right here on this TV.

And I heard someone cough right here.

Summer shuddered at the intrusive memory. There had never been any proof that someone had been in the room. She’d pretty much chalked it up to her wild imagination and anxiety over all the murder cases she was involved in.

She walked through the small room, turning on every light. Under the bathroom sink, she’d left one container of disinfecting wipes, which she grabbed and started going back over everything she’d already cleaned. This time she looked more closely at everything: the walls, the floors, everything. She told herself she was looking for signs of Barney, such as accident spots she may have missed and bits of chewed carpet, or scratches on the door.

But really, she was looking for proof…or disproof of a bad man being in her room.

And she found it.

By the window, where she never went—Who wants to appreciate the view of the parking lot?—Summer found a large scuff mark. The shape was unmistakable. A man’s shoe.

“It’s nothing,” she told herself. Of course, there would be a man’s shoe here. She wasn’t the first one to stay at this hotel.

Even as she said it, though, she couldn’t convince herself.

It was too much of a coincidence. And Summer didn’t believe in coincidences.

Someone had been in her room, right under her nose. And the nose of Sheriff Brady. He’d been standing right beside her. He’d come in and checked the room for her.

So how did the man get in and out without being discovered?

Summer dropped the wipe in the nearest trash can and bolted.

To calm herself, she called Alex from the elevator. It was even more strange being in it now. She needed the sound of her friend’s bright and happy voice to get her through.

“Hey,” Alex’s tone was exactly as Summer expected and exactly what she needed.

“Hey, I’m on the way back. Should I grab something for supper or do we know what we want yet?” Summer smoothed her shirt and hair with her free hand. She needed to get herself together before the doors opened.

“Perfect timing! I was about to call you. Evan and I were just talking about the New Year’s Eve cruise. His finger is literally hovering over the checkout button.”

“I heard about that. I bumped into Mr. Sullivan earlier and he said he was going. Is it a big deal or something?”

The doors opened and Summer hurried through the lobby as Alex answered. “It’s kind of a Spring Harbor tradition. The ship usually fills up with more locals than anything. It’ll be fun!”

“Well, who could argue with that?”

They think of me as a local.

Summer walked to her car, letting the warm fuzzy feeling she expected from Alex to protect her from the cold weather and bad thoughts.

“So that’s a yes!” Alex’s tone implied there was no question. “Do it!” That last part must have been for Evan, because she practically squealed a moment later.

“Alright. Well, I’m in the car,” Summer said as she buckled up. “Pizza? Burgers?”

“Sushi!”

Summer groaned and heard Evan do the same through the phone. She should have known better than to give Alex a choice.

“How about I just come home and we decide together? Be there in a few.” She hung up and started out of the parking lot when the phone rang again.

“We just had sushi Tuesday,” she whined as she pushed the answer button.

“Summer.”

“Tillie?”

“You need to come back to the salon ASAP.”

Summer worried the whole way to the salon.

What now?

She knew something was wrong. She felt it all day. Everything had gone wrong. This was just one of those days that piled on. She didn’t even want to think of what could be wrong.

Of course, that was all she could do.

Is Carl back?

Did someone fall?

Another fire?

A dead body?

Summer barely turned off the car when she arrived at the salon and ran inside. “What? What’s wrong?”

Tillie had a stricken look on her face and wouldn’t meet Summer’s eyes. Both women turned toward the office where Mrs. Beesley was walking out.

She looked angry. Even her beehive seemed to be frowning.

“Mrs. Beesley? Is everything alright?”

Her boss and mentor folded her arms over her chest and frowned harder. “I expected better from you, Ms. Snow.”

Summer’s heart dropped.

For the life of her, she couldn’t think of what she may have done to have everyone this upset with her. She glanced around, taking in the few clients in the waiting area. They weren’t swamped. She’d cleaned her area and the break room before leaving, so it wasn’t that. The TV was off, so there couldn’t be any more crazy murders for her to get obsessed with.

“What?” Summer whispered.

Just then, the office door opened wider and Aunt Clara came running out.

Summer’s eyes went wide and her mouth fell open.

“Gotcha!” Aunt Clara said as the tiny woman wrapped Summer in a bear hug.

Mrs. Beesley and Tillie both started laughing and some of the regular clients cheered.

“Guys!” Summer said with an exasperated sigh. “You scared me! Don’t do that!” She pulled herself out of Aunt Clara’s grip and took stock of her condition. Everything seemed to be in order. She was thinner than Summer remembered, but weeks of skiing would account for that. Summer pulled her aunt in close for another big hug.

She hadn’t realized how much she missed this, especially after all the fears she’d had when her aunt wasn’t answering her phone.

“I have to text Mom. She’s worried sick.”

“I called her about an hour ago. She’s fine. How are you? I figured you’d still be here. Is everything OK?” Aunt Clara pulled Summer toward the break room like she already knew where everything was in the salon.

“Yeah, it’s fine. I was just finishing up at the Inn.” Summer’s mind wandered to the scuff mark by the window, but she quickly held it back. She didn’t want to think about such things right now. Aunt Clara was here. Everything was fine. She had nothing to worry about. “So, what are you doing back? You tired of Carl already?” Summer laughed.

Aunt Clara had a short attention span where suitors were concerned.

Poor Carl. Summer liked him. A lot. He was good for Aunt Clara. He kept her grounded.

“Carl’s son, Henry, is ill.”

4

“Happy New Year’s Eve!” Alex yelled as she opened the door to her apartment. Evan was already there, blowing on a noise maker behind her.

“Yay,” Summer said with much less enthusiasm. She couldn’t help but feel guilty for still going on this cruise tonight. It wasn’t right. Not while Aunt Clara and Carl were at his sick son’s house.

“Oh, stop. Mrs. Walters has watched the puppies before. They’ll be fine. I’m sure she’ll like the company.” Alex took Summer’s hand and pulled her into the apartment.

Summer didn’t bother correcting her. She knew it was silly to still be worried about Aunt Clara. She was back in town. Wasn’t that what Summer wanted?

Evan came over and put a party hat on Summer’s head to match his own, then took the bag she had slung over her shoulder. It was full of makeup and hair stuff, along with a change of shoes. She knew herself well enough to be certain those heels wouldn’t last.

“Thanks,” she told him with a smile, then turned to Alex. “And thanks for letting me get ready over here. I still don’t have…anything.”

It was true. Aside from the bed, the bean bag chair, and appliances, her apartment was still bare. And yet, somehow, it still looked like a disaster area.

“I dated guys in college with more furniture!” Alex laughed.

“Yep,” Evan said, setting the bag in the bathroom. “At least when I was sitting on milk cartons, I had a nice TV for my games.”

Summer groaned and rolled her eyes, mostly so they didn’t linger too long on him. She didn’t allow herself to think of how handsome he looked in his suit. When her eyes did naturally fall back on him, she found his on her as well.

Evan looked away quickly, then made awkward eye contact. “Pretty dress.”

“Thanks. Nice suit…and your dress, too,” she added, forcing herself to only look at Alex.

Alex leaned in and whispered, “Nice save.” Then she yanked Summer toward the bathroom. “Come on! Let’s put on your face!”

The thought of a full face had Summer stalling again. What right did she have to go out and party all night when Aunt Clara and Carl were caring for his sick son? She was about to tell them to go ahead without her when her phone buzzed.

It was a smiley face from Aunt Clara.

Suspicious timing.

“Did one of you put her up to this?”

They both look conspicuously innocent.

“Fine, let’s go ring in the new year in the middle of the Pacific!”

“Wooo!” Summer yelled over the side of the boat. It was a lot smaller than she’d imagined when Mr. Sullivan called it a cruise, but she was glad. She didn’t think, with her luck, she wanted to be on a giant cruise ship in the middle of the ocean. An average sized charter boat just off the coast was perfect.

Speaking of Mr. Sullivan, Summer thought she saw him in the crowd. She took Alex’s arm, who in turn took Evan’s, and pulled them along with her. “Mr. Sullivan!” Summer called to him, waving her hand in the air.

“Ms. Snow!” Mr. Sullivan shouted over the music. “I’m glad you decided to come!”

“Me, too!”

The noise didn’t leave much room for talking beyond that, but Summer was happy to see him enjoying himself.

I bet Aunt Clara would love this!

Summer made a mental note to book the cruise again next year with Aunt Clara and Carl.

“Oh, look!” Alex pointed toward a mass of people. Then she lowered her voice to a near whisper and Summer had to lean in close to hear. “That’s Charlene and Sam Yarborough. Last year their daughter married some oil guy and moved to Texas. I heard they haven’t been able to get ahold of her for months, but they’re still keeping up appearances.”

Summer squinted to see if she could catch a hint of worry or strife on their faces, but they seemed perfectly happy. She chalked it up to the small town rumor mill.

“Iced black coffee and hazelnut latte,” Evan said matter-of-factly. It was the only way he recognized most people, and Summer considered his insight a window into people’s souls. Your coffee order said a lot about you. Like, to her, iced black coffee sounded extremely bitter. It would take a strong person to drink such a thing.

“I’m starving,” Summer complained, holding her stomach. She’d skipped lunch to make room for all the amazing food Alex promised. And now it was time for her friend to deliver.

“Over here,” Evan said, taking her hand and waiting for her to take Alex’s. Their three buddy system hadn’t failed them yet! “I think I saw our names on that table by the stage.”

Summer still wasn’t sure why the boat had a stage, and if that reason was karaoke, the rest of these partygoers better watch out! As painfully shy as Summer was, all that disappeared when she got near a karaoke machine.

“Wow, this looks amazing,” Alex said as they took their seats at a table that was already full of food. “Now I’m starving, too.”

There was a whole roast chicken, several kinds of potatoes, macaroni and cheese, steamed vegetables, and three different kinds of soup. Yes, Aunt Clara would love this cruise next year. Summer took out her phone and snapped a few pictures of the feast and sent them to her aunt.

She noticed an unread text from Vanessa waiting for her. ‘I’m on a movie producer’s yacht!’ The next text was a bunch of pictures of people in expensive suits that Summer assumed were famous for something or other.

‘Same!’ she sent back, with pictures of the food. She looked over at Alex and Evan stuffing their faces already and smiled. This was more her speed.

Just then, there was static over the speakers and a deep male voice came on. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. It is now 11:50PM. Please make your way to the deck for the fireworks show and the countdown.”

Evan began shoveling food into his mouth. Summer gasped in shock, then joined him. They had less than ten minutes to fill up before the real party started. She reached for the nearest soup, then thought better of it. No time for that. If she didn’t get some of that chicken right now, there’d be none left.

Alex laughed at both of them and shoved a whole roll in her mouth. “You two look ridiculous,” she said between chews.

“Getting my money’s worth,” Evan said with a grin.

Somehow, he still looked adorable.

Summer pushed that thought away with another huge bite of baked potato.

A couple of minutes later, they joined the rest of the crowd on the deck. They stuck to the perimeter, choosing to go for higher ground instead of pushing their way to the front. From their new vantage point, Summer could see Mr. Sullivan again, having a great time with a woman in a blue dress.

Everyone on the boat raised a glass. Summer realized she didn’t have one, but at that exact moment, one appeared out of nowhere.

“Here,” Alex said, pushing the drink into her hand.

Summer saw the Yarboroughs over Alex’s shoulder, holding each other close as the countdown started. She was about to tap Alex on the arm to tell her everything looked fine between them when she felt something touch her.

Evan.

His suit jacket grazed her arm as he seemed to be leaning in.

“Nine!”

Fireworks began to scream in the distance, and in Summer’s chest.

Is he really doing this?

“Eight!”

Alex caught her eye and winked.

“Seven!”

More fireworks swelled and crashed above.

“Six!”

Evan’s face inched closer. She didn’t know whether to go for it or retreat.

“Five!”

Alex braced herself against Summer’s back. So no retreat.

“Four!”

Summer wasn’t sure this was a good idea. They’d been doing so well as friends.

“Three!”

Did he just close his eyes?

“Two!”

As Evan and the countdown got closer, Summer closed her own eyes to accept his kiss. Excitement welled in her chest. Of course, this was the right thing. Why was she denying it?

“Agh!” A woman’s scream rang out.

Chaos broke loose on the deck of the ship. People scattered. More screams erupted.

And Evan’s lips never reached hers.

5

The entire mob of people rushed toward the sound. From her vantage point up higher, Summer saw the whole thing. Everyone either screamed or gasped again, and the people who made it to the center first, quickly turned back. Most ran away or froze. Only a few stayed to help.

One of those few was Mr. Yarborough, who bent down to do something Summer couldn’t make out. As the crowd, one by one, made it to the source of the chaos and then dispersed, Summer could finally see what was happening.

A man was laid out on the deck, not moving. Mr. Yarborough and the boat’s captain were trying to revive him. But even from where she was, Summer could tell it was no use. Not with the already pallid color of his skin.

Summer took out her phone and began to record as more crew gathered around the man and went to work.

“What are you doing?” Alex asked, pulling Summer back.

It was then that she realized she’d been moving toward the scene. “They’re gonna need a record of this,” was all she said as she continued down the steps toward the deck.

Someone brushed against her back and she assumed it was Evan following her. Alex’s death grip on her arm said she wouldn’t dare go near whatever was happening below them.

The captain and Mr. Yarborough were still doing what they could for the man, which wasn’t much. By the time Summer made it to the captain’s side, he stood and told Mr. Yarborough to stop. The older man didn’t listen at first, but even he realized it was no use.

A man in a crew uniform paced a circle around them, speaking into a satellite phone. “He’s gone.” Summer recorded a few seconds of him nodding and walking off.

“Does anyone know this gentleman? Is he part of a party?”

Nobody spoke. The whole boat was suddenly dead quiet.

Summer continued to move through the sea of people and around the man on the deck, recording snippets and taking pictures. She wasn’t sure why this felt so important, but she didn’t argue with herself. She just did what she felt was right.

“Are you sure that’s allowed?” Evan whispered as she turned the camera back toward the crowd.

“I’m sure it’s necessary.”

When he gave her a look that said he didn’t get it, or maybe that he didn’t approve, Summer shook her head. “I already don’t believe in coincidences and I’m starting to think no accidents happen in this town.”

“You can’t just jump to that conclusion.”

Summer ignored him, knowing in her heart she was right.

Whispers began to spring up all around them, theories forming in the silence.

“Choked on something…”

“Heart attack…”

“Family’s gonna sue…”

With each whisper, Summer spun the camera around, trying to catch a glimpse of anyone brave enough to speak.

Then everything stopped when a young crewman came forward and covered the man with a blanket.

The next morning, Summer was completely exhausted, but she couldn’t stop pacing in her living room. It was a good thing she didn’t have any furniture yet, because she wasn’t looking where she was going. All she could do was picture the man on the deck and the faces of the crowd.

Nobody seemed to know him. Nobody claimed to be with him on the cruise. Someone had mentioned a lady in a blue dress, but only in passing. She didn’t come forward and nobody knew her name.

Summer’s phone was almost dead because she couldn’t stop watching the videos she took last night. There had to be a clue in there somewhere. But it all started to morph together into one blur of faces and screams and darkness, punctuated by a cascade of fireworks still exploding above.

Each time Summer watched it, she shuddered.

This was how they rang in the new year. A murder.

She was certain of it.

Evan and Alex had their doubts, which they voiced repeatedly on the way home. But there was no convincing Summer.

She forced herself to put her phone away but needed something to do with all the pent up energy. She needed to keep busy.

Alex had agreed to keep Barney this morning since Summer had been clearly wired last night, so she had nothing but time on her hands.

“My hands,” she said absently to herself and grabbed her coat off the back of the bean bag chair. There was one surefire way to calm her mind.

The salon was supposed to be closed for the holiday, but Summer could think of no better place to be today.

The streets were empty. She didn’t know if it was because of the holiday or if the whole town was in mourning…or shock. Either way, she was at the salon in no time, stocking shelves and cleaning like a madwoman.

Unfortunately, busy hands left too much room for her mind to wander.

She was back on the boat, watching a hundred faces turn from excited to horrified. She heard the screams and cries like they were right behind her. In her mind’s eye, she searched for the woman in the blue dress, or for anyone whose reaction was out of the ordinary.

Summer knew she would find it…find them, eventually. She just had to look hard enough. The clue was right under her nose. She could feel it.

Her phone rang, snapping her out of her spiral with a jolt.

Why did I turn that ringer on?

“Hey,” she said, hitting the button just as the second ring was starting.

“Where are you?” Aunt Clara asked. She sounded half annoyed and half worried. She must have gotten word that something went down on the cruise. Word traveled fast in these small towns.

“At the salon, safe and sound.”

“You forgot about our lunch, didn’t you?”

Oh, that explains the annoyance.

“Sorry, Aunt Clara. I put it on my calendar. I must not have heard the notification. I can be ready in a couple minutes—if you don’t mind me smelling like bleach.”

“You at the salon or a crime scene?”

“Ha! You’d be surprised what this back room can end up looking like after a busy week.”

“How about I come to you? I’m not really hungry, anyway.”

“Perfect! Need me to come pick you up? In your own car?” Summer got a twinge of guilt at still having Aunt Clara’s yellow punch buggy, but Aunt Clara just laughed.

“Carl’s gonna drop me off. He needs some fresh air, too.”

Another wave of guilt. Of course, Aunt Clara would need a break. They’d been caring for Carl’s son nonstop for a few days already. “Well, I’ll be here. I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.”

“Are you sure that’s safe?” Aunt Clara asked, but Summer cut the line before the last word was fully out of her mouth.

Of course it’s not, that voice in Summer’s head argued, but she pushed that down, too. She couldn’t live in fear any longer.

Still, when the door swung open several minutes later, she may have hidden in the break room to sneak a peek first.

“Hi!” Summer ran to her aunt and wrapped her in a bear hug. “I’m so sorry for forgetting lunch.”

“Oh, it’s alright, sweetie. I’m getting a free blow out in return.”

“Oh, are you now? Well then, just sit right here and let me get that for you.” Summer helped Aunt Clara into the chair at her work station. “What would you like? A flip? Feather the front?”

“Something cool again, like the tree!”

“The tree?” Summer gasped. “I think we have different ideas of what a blow out is.”

“Fine…you know what, I think I’m suddenly getting very hungry after all.”

“Low blow,” Summer said with a chuckle. “How about a beehive instead? Or a perm? Isn’t that what a self-respecting woman of your advance age should-”

“Watch it!”

They both devolved into laughter.

“I have a dinner with the ladies at the club and they all loved the tree. Something festive like that would be fun!”

Summer didn’t believe Aunt Clara even knew any ladies, but she played along. She was happy to keep busy, anyway.

“Did you see the poor man last night?” Aunt Clara asked after a few minutes of silence.

“Yes,” Summer answered too quickly because that had been exactly what she was thinking about, too.

“Are you going to stay out of it?”

“Probably,” Summer said, which surprised both of them. “Brady wants me to have a chat with Drew Harding…in jail.”

“After what that man tried to do to you—to us—you should do anything in your power to keep him locked up!” Aunt Clara slammed the palm of her hand on the armrest.

“It’s not that easy.”

“Why?”

Because of the real reason I’m staying out of this murder investigation.

“One of DeVilla’s men was spotted in Spring Harbor recently.”

“Ah, so that’s why you moved.”

“Yeah.” Summer nodded, thinking back to the scuff mark by the window of her hotel room. “Hopefully, this building has better security.”

“I can see why you’re reluctant. I support your decision either way.”

Summer didn’t think she had a choice. If she got involved in yet another sting operation to catch a small fish like Harding, she might get caught by a big one.

6

“You can’t do it,” Alex said, for not the first time. They were in Summer’s empty apartment, letting the dogs run free.

“I know,” Summer said, also not for the first time. “But I don’t think I have a choice.”

“You always have a choice. Let Sheriff Brady worry about Drew Harding.” Alex threw a stuffed squirrel across the room for the dogs. Barney caught it, but Betty was right behind him. After a brief tug of war, she took off into the bathroom with her prize.

Summer knew Alex was right. But Alex didn’t know the whole story. She didn’t know Brady was essentially blackmailing her.

“I’m just glad you aren’t obsessing about that man on the cruise. I thought for sure we’d be fighting about that right now.”

Summer shook her head. “I wouldn’t call it an obsession.” Though, wasn’t that how she’d described it herself?

Barney came running at her full speed and she bent down to pet him. He was getting so big. It hurt her heart to think about him being all grown up one day. He licked and nipped at her hand before running back toward the bathroom to wrestle Betty for the squirrel.

“I’m so glad they have each other,” Alex said what Summer was thinking.

“Do you think it was an accident?”

Alex gave Summer a look that said, ‘don’t start,’ but it was too late.

“You started it.”

The dogs started growling as their play tug of war threatened to turn into a real argument. Alex clapped her hands and Betty came running. Summer tried clapping as well, but Barney just plopped down on the floor and chewed on the stuffed squirrel.

We need to work on that.

“I don’t think it was an accident,” Summer added when Alex didn’t answer.

“You never do.”

Summer smiled. “Correct, especially not in this town!”

Alex turned to Summer with a mischievous look on her face. “You know, I can’t think of a single murder that happened before you got here.”

“You, my dear, need to pay closer attention to your surroundings.” Summer returned Alex’s smirk.

“Kinda hard to force someone else to choke,” Alex said as if finishing a thought.

Summer nodded. “But not impossible.” She took her phone out of her pocket and searched for articles on the story.

“You’re impossible,” Alex said with a laugh.

“Sam King,” Summer said, ignoring the remark.

“That’s him?”

“Yeah.” Summer scrolled, reading quickly. “It says here he was on the cruise alone, though some people thought they saw him with a woman in a blue dress.”

“Dangerous,” Alex said in a tone that told Summer she was getting reeled in.

“Always.” What she wanted to say was ‘At least that’s something to go on to start my investigation,’ but before the words came out, she remembered why she couldn’t work it.

DeVilla.

She needed to keep a low profile.

“Maybe you’re right,” Summer said instead.

“Always,” Alex replied with a hearty laugh. “About what?”

“I should leave this one to Brady.”

“Yes, I’m very right about that.” Alex picked up a squeaky toy and waved it at the dogs before throwing it toward the kitchen.

Summer knew she couldn’t afford to attract more attention to herself, especially if she was already stirring the pot by helping them clean up the Drew Harding mess.

Why he only wanted to talk to her was something she didn’t want to think about.

Still, even as she resigned herself to leaving this case alone, she couldn’t ignore the guilt she felt. Of all the ones before, she felt closer to this Sam King than any of the others. She’d been there, probably rubbed elbows with him at some point. She’d watched them trying to revive him. And most likely, she had recorded his killer’s face.

If ever there was a case she should help with, it was this one. Yet, she knew in her heart that doing so would put a target on her back.

Summer nodded to herself, agreeing with the self-preserving part of her that rationalized standing on the sidelines for this case.

Just as she did, there was a loud sound in the hallway outside her door. The dogs stopped bickering over the toy and, in a united front, ran to the front door and barked their heads off.

Then a heavy knock made Summer and Alex both jump.

“Hide!” Summer whispered to Alex, picking up Barney and handing him to her.

“Where?” Alex asked, looking around at Summer’s empty apartment.

Summer forgot she was in a studio.

“Bathroom,” she said, nudging Alex away from the front door.

The knock sounded again, louder and more urgent. Summer tiptoed to the door and looked through the peephole. A large man in overalls took up the entire fish-eye lens.

Why do people in this town have to be so big and scary looking?

The bathroom door closed with Alex and the puppies safely inside, which made Summer’s heart slow down a fraction. At least they had a chance.

“Can I help you?” Summer asked through the door she wasn’t about to open.

The man looked down at a clipboard. “Delivery for a Ms. Summer O. Snow.”

Summer winced at the loud and clear use of her entire name. She looked to the left and could make out the outline of a large box.

She opened the door and let the man in. She stayed right on top of him in case this was still a ruse, but he set the heavy box inside, then went back out for another. In all, there were five, each bigger than the last.

At some point, Alex gave up trying to keep the dogs quiet in the bathroom and came out. She and Summer each held one to keep them from chasing after the delivery driver as he went back and forth.

“Um, thank you,” Summer said, showing the man out when he was finished. She wasn’t sure if you tipped delivery drivers and she didn’t have money on her, regardless. Just one more thing to feel guilty about today.

“What is all this stuff?” Alex asked, setting Betty down to sniff. Summer did the same with Barney, who took his investigating job very seriously.

Summer grabbed a knife from the kitchen and opened the largest one. The smell hit her before anything else. Familiar, comforting, and terrifying at the same time. “It’s my stuff.”

Summer tore through the remaining boxes, pulling out items and clothes she didn’t think she’d ever see again. Her favorite leather jacket that would finally come in handy for the weather and not just looks. Her stuffed bunny that she got from a boy in high school. She couldn’t remember his name anymore, but Mr. Bunny had been her faithful companion all these years. She’d regretted leaving him behind when she moved, but there wasn’t time for sentimentality.

Alex laughed when she picked up Summer’s signed copy of A is for Alibi by Sue Grafton. “Sounds about right.”

Summer snatched the book and held it to her chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I didn’t know you sent for your stuff.”

“I didn’t.” And that was the terrifying part.

“Do you think your aunt did?”

Summer shook her head. Aunt Clara knew she was in hiding. She wouldn’t bring that kind of attention to her. “Must’ve been my parents. A housewarming gift or something.”

“Aww,” Alex cooed.

But Summer didn’t feel as warm and fuzzy about it. Her parents just unwittingly left a paper trail that would lead DeVilla right to her.

7

At the salon the next day, Summer and Tillie frantically tried to keep up with the walk-ins. They had prepared for all the New Year, New Me traffic, but apparently not enough. The waiting room was full and the phone didn’t stop ringing.

It was chaos, for sure, but it accomplished one major thing. Summer didn’t have time to think about the case. She’d turned the TV on when she first arrived this morning, but that was the last time she’d noticed it. She told herself she wasn’t waiting on the news, though she didn’t believe it.

“Got you another one,” Tillie said as she hung up the phone. “Maybe we should just forward this line to your cell.”

“No, thank you.”

“Well, here.” Tillie handed her the cordless phone. “Since they’re all for you, anyway.”

“Really?” Summer took the phone. “What’s going on?”

Mrs. Beesley came up behind Summer with a huge smile on her face. It was the first time Summer had seen her happy in a while. “They keep saying something about lights.”

“Aunt Clara!”

Mrs. Beesley and Tillie looked at her in confusion.

“I did Aunt Clara’s hair for a ladies’ brunch the other day, when we were closed.”

“What exactly did you do to it?” Tillie asked.

Summer took out her phone and showed them a picture of Aunt Clara’s festive hairstyle, a semi-beehive with different colors bursting through like fireworks. “It’s what she asked for.”

“It’s adorable,” Tillie said with a squeal.

“And apparently popular,” Mrs. Beesley added.

Summer looked at the growing mass of people in their salon. “I can’t do this to everyone’s hair. That would take forever.”

Mrs. Beesley waved her away. “I’m sure they don’t all want that. Some of them booked appointments weeks out for special occasions.”

Summer nodded as the news finally switched to a story about the cruise death. But with the commotion and Mrs. Beesley and Tillie talking to her, she only caught bits and pieces.

Myra Weston, the anchor, said something about the man booking a single ticket, then added, “But our sources say he didn’t spend the entire evening alone. Reports of a woman in a blue dress dining with him have surfaced, though no such person has come forward. With the latest, we send you to Gage Jackson on the ground.”

“Hi Myra,” Gage said with a TV smile. “Though I’m not exactly on the ground for this one.” He made a show of wobbling, and the camera panned to the cruise ship and the ocean behind him.

“I think we might need to hire another stylist,” Mrs. Beesley cut in, bringing Summer’s attention back to her.

It was a conversation they’d had several times since their agreement. Summer wanted to expand, but Mrs. Beesley was afraid of change. Partnering and eventually selling the salon to Summer had been more than enough excitement for her. But now, with the growing demand, it made sense.

“…saw the man, who has now been identified as Samuel King, dining with a woman in a blue dress…”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Tillie said, wiping her brow. “My fingers are so tired when I get home from work, I don’t even want to text!”

“The horror!” Summer laughed, though she knew exactly what Tillie meant. She’d been using talk-to-text for a while now, though it had so much trouble understanding her she ended up typing just as much, if not more.

“Sheriff Brady is asking for anyone with information on this tragic death to come forward and…”

“I’m just concerned we’ll hire someone and the demand will die down.” Mrs. Beesley’s smile wavered.

Summer winced at her choice of the word, die, though she was the only one half paying attention to the news.

“Not if Summer keeps coming up with these fun styles,” Tillie added.

“…talk of a possible lawsuit against the cruise line?” Myra asked.

Summer turned her attention and her head toward the TV. She needed to hear this.

Too bad her phone decided to ring at that exact moment.

Summer looked at the Caller ID and groaned. “Hello?” She didn’t dare say his name and alert her boss/partner to anything.

“Ms. Snow,” Sheriff Brady said. His tone was too chipper for her liking. “I’m calling about your appointment to speak with Drew Harding.”

“I don’t have one,” she said, trying to keep her own tone steady.

“You do now,” he said, and she could hear him smiling through the phone. “Figured you needed a nudge.”

Summer grumbled and pulled her coat tighter. It wasn’t cold, not like it had been the past several days. This was more for her comfort, to still her nerves. She thought she’d seen her last jail cell.

“Name?” the woman behind the counter asked, not looking up from her work.

“Snow…Summer Snow.”

“Not yours.”

Summer shook her head. “Oh, sorry. Drew Harding. I have a-”

“Sign this,” the woman said, shoving a clipboard toward her.

Summer did as she was told and sat down quietly on one of the hard metal chairs lined up by a brick wall.

A man slid into the seat right beside hers, though the entire row was empty. She didn’t dare look at him or speak, though every nerve in her body went on edge at the closeness.

“What are you in for?” The stranger’s lurid tone didn’t feel so strange and Summer spun around to glare at him.

“Assault,” Summer grumbled under her breath.

“Feisty,” Evan replied with a smile.

“What are you doing here?” She got an intense flash of déjà vu from her first meeting with Harding. Evan had appeared out of nowhere then, too.

“Moral support.”

Summer cocked her head to the side. “Who told you?”

“Alex.”

“Well, you can go tell Alex I’m fine. I don’t need a man’s protection. Thought I made it clear last time.”

Evan nodded. “Crystal.” He looked around the room as if counting how many cops were there. “Fine. But you tell Alex I tried.”

“Deal. Now go.”

“At least let me wait ’til you’re inside.”

“Fine.” She folded her arms over her chest and leaned back in the seat. She didn’t want to admit how much slower her heartbeat was now that he was here.

They sat in comfortable silence long enough for Summer’s mind to wander. Naturally, it went straight to the case. How likely was it that the man merely choked on his food and there was no foul play?

Unlikely.

But that didn’t matter. She had to sit this one out and hope Brady and his men could handle it. She didn’t need any more attention on her.

Maybe she didn’t need to draw attention. Maybe, just maybe, she could be satisfied with only getting the information about the case. Knowing what happened should be good enough. She didn’t have to solve it!

Summer wondered if she could trade information on Harding for information on the case.

“There is no case.”

Summer jumped.

Evan smiled down at her. “Not all of that was in your head.”

“Apparently,” she grumbled.

“He choked,” Evan said, going back to the matter that wasn’t all in her head. “We saw it with our own eyes this time.”

Summer shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.” Summer took out her phone and opened her notes app. “Something doesn’t make sense. He seemed to fade into thin air about twelve or thirteen years ago.”

Evan leaned in close and whispered, “You of all people should respect someone’s right to disappear.”

Summer pursed her lips and sat up straight. Not everyone who disappeared did it for the right reasons. And she was about to tell him that, rather loudly, when a large officer walked up to them.

“Ms. Snow?”

Summer hopped up, ready to be far away from Evan. Though, in doing that, she would be getting closer to Harding. She didn’t know which was the lesser of two evils right now.

Stop! Summer’s conscience yelled.

Fine. Yes, she knew, but it didn’t stop her from wanting to give Evan a piece of her mind at the top of her lungs.

“I assume you’ll be gone when I return,” she said, overly formally to Evan.

“Of course.”

Summer let the uniformed officer lead her down a dark hallway, through heavy iron doors, and into a poorly lit room. When her eyes adjusted, she realized it looked very similar to what she’d seen on TV.

A wall of plexiglass cut the room in half. There was a chair and a phone receiver every few feet. The officer showed Summer to one that was, thankfully, close to the door. If she needed to, she could make a quick escape.

Summer took her seat, another hard metal folding chair, and waited.

Several minutes later, Harding came through the door on his side. She didn’t recognize him at first. He looked thinner, all the way to his hairline. And orange was not his color.

He came toward her, reached for his phone receiver, then looked up. As soon as he saw that it was her waiting, he turned back around and walked out.

8

The next afternoon, when all the customers finally left for the day, Summer and Tillie barely had the energy to clean up their work stations.

“It’s time,” Mrs. Beesley said. She looked just as beat as Summer felt. Even her beehive was tilted, something Summer hadn’t seen once in the months they’d been partnering.

Tillie stood back up. “I just have to rotate the combs and-”

“No,” Mrs. Beesley said, patting Tillie’s arm. “Time to hire someone.” Then she turned to Summer with an expectant look.

They’d had parts of this conversation before. And it seemed to Summer like this was the culmination. A test of sorts. “Are you sure?”

“It’s time,” Mrs. Beesley said again, but this time her voice nearly cracked and Summer knew it wasn’t just about the influx of customers.

Mrs. Beesley’s children were still hounding her about moving to Florida with her daughter. And she had made it clear numerous times that she wasn’t willing to discuss it further. It was happening.

It was time.

“Alright.” Summer nodded.

She didn’t want to leave it at that, but she had other things on her mind, like getting the TV back on so she could find out more about the case…or even if there was a case.

Summer had to admit; she didn’t care for waiting for the news to tell her what happened with the rest of the world. She’d gotten used to finding things out on her own. And usually those things contradicted what the news was saying, at least in the beginning.

In her heart, she knew Sam King did not die by accident. Something had to happen. And someone had to be behind it. The problem was, she couldn’t be the one to figure it all out this time. And it was driving her nuts.

She reached for the remote and turned the TV on.

“…end table set? I have two I don’t need.” Mrs. Beesley’s voice brought Summer out of her stupor.

“Um,” Summer said, stalling until her brain could process what Mrs. Beesley had said. Two end tables.

Her apartment was less bare now that her mom had sent the stuff from storage. It was a fact she hoped didn’t come back to bite her later. But she pictured her living area and imagined how it would look with end tables. “Yeah, I have room. Need me to pick them up?”

Again, she didn’t like knowing why Mrs. Beesley was giving away her furniture, but it wasn’t her place to say anything. She’d gone that route before and it hadn’t ended well.

“I’ll just have them brought here. Maybe that nice young man of yours can-”

“Not of mine,” Summer snapped, then bit her lips.

Mrs. Beesley and Tillie exchanged a devious look and then both smiled at Summer. “At any rate,” Mrs. Beesley continued, “if that nice young man would come by tomorrow or the next day to pick them up for you, I can bring them here.”

“I’ll ask,” Summer said, then added pointedly, “if I see him.”

“Of course.”

Summer turned away from them before the redness of her cheeks gave her away, just in time to see a picture of the man who died on the cruise.

If Mrs. Beesley or Tillie spoke again after that, Summer didn’t hear it. Her full attention turned to the news story. She knew she shouldn’t be indulging in this obsession, but she couldn’t help it. She knew from the start that something was going on with this death. And now she was about to find out what that something was.

Gage Jackson stood on the pier once again, the cruise liner filling the shot behind him. “This is unconfirmed for now, but our sources say that Mr. King did not die from choking. Sheriff Brady is set to hold a news conference any moment now, but we have it on good authority that he will be relaying the following information.”

He looked down at his phone as if reading off a list. “Samuel King, aged forty-seven, was one of a handful of people who suffered from a rare allergy to meat; beef in particular. It’s speculated that his supposed vegetable soup had become cross contaminated in the kitchen galley. It is unclear at this time whether any family has since claimed Mr. King’s body or if there are plans to hold the cruise line accountable.”

I knew it!

“Who’s allergic to beef?” Summer mused out loud.

“Nobody?” Tillie said in answer.

When Summer glanced at her, Mrs. Beesley had already gone. It was just the two of them. “Sorry, I was talking to myself again.”

“About beef?”

Summer pointed at the TV where Gage and Myra Weston were on a split screen talking about Mr. King’s death. Myra scribbled something on a piece of paper and said, “…if it’s proven to be clear negligence…”

Summer barely heard her. Negligence wasn’t even on her radar. It was pegged fully on homicide. Someone his age didn’t accidentally ingest meat. He’d lived that long, most likely in public settings. He had to know how to be careful.

If he got beef in his system, it was no accident.

Gage’s words from earlier kept playing in Summer’s mind. That allergy had to be rare, and the form of the allergy that was severe enough to cause death had to be even more rare.

What were the odds that one of those people with a super rare allergy ended up on a cruise ship with her, in this town, and didn’t die at someone else’s hand?

Also very rare.

Tillie was saying something, but Summer didn’t hear her. She was busy pulling up information on the beef allergy. She found a study done about twelve years ago where ten people were studied for a year, then retested another year after that. A list of names popped up, but none of them were Samuel King.

Interesting.

Summer’s need to know everything about this man went into overdrive. She started looking up everything she could find, ignoring her surroundings and the constant dings of her phone.

Until one in particular caught her attention.

She’d set up an alert for Stefan DeVilla’s name when she’d left Georgia. And it just went off. She clicked the link and her hands started to tremble.

DeVilla himself had been spotted in Seattle. That was way too close.

9

Summer found herself back in those hard metal chairs, but this time she was impatiently waiting for a different man who had power over her. It didn’t sit right and she wouldn’t stand for it any longer.

Why had she let him convince her not to look into the case? She let him scare her away and now…now everything she suspected was coming true.

Samuel King did not die from an accident. He didn’t choke. He was murdered!

“Ms. Snow,” Sheriff Brady said quietly as he approached.

“Sheriff, can we talk?”

“Yes, I’ve been expecting you. Please, this way.” He led her back to his office, which felt much smaller this time. Like the walls were closing in on her.

“What do you know about Sam King? I knew it wasn’t an accident!”

Sheriff Brady took a deep breath and slowly lowered himself onto his chair. “I should have known you’d be nosing around this one.”

“Because it’s not an accident. And I was there. I saw it with my own two eyes.” Summer couldn’t shake the image of the man laying helpless on the boat deck.

“Accidents do happen, Ms. Snow. Even in Spring Harbor, despite your previous experience.” He said it like a dismissal, as if she would just take that and leave.

Instead, Summer sat in the chair across the desk from him and folded her hands in her lap. “Someone had to know about his allergy. He wouldn’t have just risked it. Find out who knew and you’ll have your killer.”

“Ms. Snow,” Brady said, leaning forward to place his folded hands on the desk. She hated the way her name sounded in his mouth, but she also didn’t dare tell him to use her first name. Somehow, that would be worse. “There’s no mention of a beef allergy in the ship’s records. Not that I need to discuss this matter with you, but my men do know what they’re doing. We’ve got shellfish, lactose intolerance, and gluten. Tons and tons of gluten, but no beef.”

“Except it was mentioned on the news, so someone had to know about it.”

Brady leaned back. “Why don’t we discuss the reason you’re really here and leave the investigating to my officers?”

Summer squeezed her hands into fists. “I did what you asked. I went to the jail to talk to him, but he refused. Seems our friend didn’t know I was coming.” She released her fists and forced her hands flat against her legs. “That’s not my fault. I’m done.”

She stood to leave. If he wasn’t going to discuss the King case, there was no reason to stay there and waste more time. She’d already let days pass since the murder. The clock was ticking.

Brady cleared his throat.

Summer spun on her heels. “What?”

“Need I remind you what Harding did to your aunt, and yourself?”

You mean try to frame her for murder and me for arson? No need to remind me.

“What’s your point?”

“My point is, if he gets out, things will only get worse. For both of you.”

Summer’s hands balled into fists yet again. “Need I remind you that he’s getting out no matter what. Because of your incompetence, not mine. And if I keep bothering him, he’ll come after us even harder.”

Again she turned to leave and again Brady cleared his throat. This time, the sound was followed by another. A drawer opening and Brady’s chair rolling back against the tile floor.

Against her better judgment, Summer turned to see why.

He’s right. I am nosey.

Brady stood and dropped a thick file onto his desk. He pushed it toward her, then headed toward the door. “I didn’t want to have to do this, but you forced my hand. Remember that.”

Then he was gone.

At first, Summer only stared at the folder. Something inside her knew that if she opened it, if she merely touched it, nothing would ever be the same.

Her resolve only lasted long enough to sit back down.

Nosey indeed.

The first couple of pages of the file were nothing new. Harding’s plan to buy up half the town at a cutthroat rate—literally. Some of his shady dealings with Marsha and Jennifer Patterson. She was happy to see that Mario’s name was absent. At least one person in this town was who they said they were.

But then she turned the page and saw what Brady wanted her to see. Why he was so certain she would help him in this futile endeavor to take down Drew Harding.

Her name was scrawled in large letters at the top of the page. First, it was just the usual stuff, her birthday, where she went to school, how long she’d been in town. But the more she read, the more stalkery and terrifying it became.

Her bank information, her parents’ names, flight numbers. It was all there. And it was very clear why he had it written down. Though, if it hadn’t been clear, what she saw next would have left her no doubt.

‘How to Get Rid of Summer Snow’ was written about halfway down the page, and below it was a list of vile things. Two items on that list were highlighted.

Ratting her out to DeVilla and running Evan out of town.

Summer didn’t know which was worse. One was technically her fault and her problem. The other was less murdery but still devastating. Evan was innocent in all this. He shouldn’t get dragged down by just associating with her.

In that moment, as much as it hurt to push him away, Summer was glad she did. And she knew she had to keep it up. If—when Harding got out of jail, he would come after her. She couldn’t let Evan get caught in his crosshairs.

Or Aunt Clara. Or Alex.

Summer had a sinking feeling that she knew what her next move should be. She’d done it before.

A soft knock on the door interrupted her train of thought. Brady entered without her speaking.

“Have you made a decision?”

“I need to think,” Summer said, but she was only stalling. She’d already made up her mind. She needed to get out of Spring Harbor before something bad happened to someone she cared about.

“Time’s running out. We can do this if we work together.”

“He already wouldn’t see me. What makes you think he’ll change his mind?”

“Leave that to me.”

Summer hung her head and walked out of the station. She didn’t look at anything beyond the ground at her feet until she got to Aunt Clara’s car, and saw a familiar pair of shoes.

“Seriously?”

Evan smiled and put his hands in his jacket pocket. “Hey, I stayed outside this time.”

Summer didn’t bother asking how he found out she was here. Everyone knew everything about everybody in this town. She’d thought coming to California would get her out of that small town web, but she found the only town in California smaller than the one she left. Not that Atlanta was small. It just felt that way at times, especially when one of the worst bad guys in the country was breathing down your neck.

“Can I interest you in some ice cream?” Evan asked as he tried to put his arm around her shoulder.

She shrugged him off. He was safer without her around.

10

The next day, Summer busied herself as much as possible. She needed to keep her mind occupied with washing and trimming and anything but the death of Samuel King. Her newfound fame as Spring Harbor’s most sought out hairstylist sure helped. The salon was packed yet again.

Things were so hectic, she barely noticed when the bell over the door chimed just after the lunch rush. But as soon as everyone started oohing and aahing, she knew what time it was.

Summer dropped the combs she was sterilizing in their container and went to the center of the salon floor, where the crowd gathered. It reminded her of that night, but she pushed the thought away. This was a happy crowd. She didn’t want to spoil this moment with those memories.

“Where’s my good boy?” Summer asked. She tried to get a look at Barney but it was no use. The women in the salon had surrounded Alex and were fawning over both puppies.

She could hardly tell which was which. Betty had more white on her snout, and Barney’s ears were tipped in brown. But with all the commotion, she couldn’t tell where one puppy started, and the other ended.

What she could tell was they loved the attention!

The women and children in the salon began passing the puppies around to take pictures. Summer glanced at Mrs. Beesley, who looked pleased. She could practically see the dollar signs in her partner’s eyes. But she could also tell the revelry wouldn’t last long. Things were quickly becoming too hectic for Mrs. Beesley.

Summer jumped into action, ushering the women into a single line and taking the pictures herself. Then she had Tillie take everyone’s phone numbers so she could send the pictures to them later. Things moved smoothly after that and soon everyone was back in their seats and Alex was heading toward the door with the puppies.

“Hey, wanna swing by Evan’s after work? I’m in the mood for a float,” Alex asked on her way out.

“I…uh…”

Why couldn’t I have a normal job?

Before, if Summer didn’t want to hang out after work, she just said she had to bring some case files home with her. But that wouldn’t work here. Can’t exactly bring a customer home to cut hair as an excuse to stay away from certain people.

“What’s going on, Summer?” Alex stood in the doorway, refusing to leave without an answer.

The problem was, Summer couldn’t give her one. Not without telling her the whole truth and dragging her deeper into this mess. “It’s been a rough few days…at work…and I think I need to crash for a night.”

Summer watched the disbelief and hurt spread across Alex’s face and had no choice but to deal with the guilt. As much as she wanted to hang out with her friend—friends—she couldn’t risk it.

“I’m sure I’ll feel more like myself tomorrow.”

“You better. Want me to keep Barney overnight?”

Summer didn’t know how to answer that one, and it felt like a trap. Saying ‘no’ would mean she wasn’t as exhausted as she let on. But saying ‘yes’ meant a whole night with no cuddles.

“Swing by in the morning before work for some kisses,” Alex answered for her. Then to Barney, she said, “Tell mommy bye-bye.”

Barney yawned his response and they were gone.

She hated all this secrecy. Even if it was for their own good, Alex and Evan had quickly become her closest friends. If she couldn’t talk to them about everything, who could she talk to?

Summer took out her phone and dialed Aunt Clara’s number. The one person she could always count on to be there no matter what. But before Aunt Clara answered, Summer remembered why she hadn’t bothered her with everything that was going on.

Carl’s son was sick. She had no business—“Aunt Clara! Hi!” She coughed to cover the shrill sound of her voice, then forced herself to speak calmly. “I was just checking on you. How’s it going?”

“Fine. Is everything OK?”

“Of course. I just had a break from work and wanted to say ‘hi.’”

“Hi,” Aunt Clara said, dragging the word out to at least three syllables.

She’s onto me.

“Great! How’s…Henry?”

“Today’s a good day. We’re about to go sit out on the back porch and get some sun. Do you need-”

“Nope! Soak up that sun while you can. It’s supposed to get cold again.”

“We will. And Summer, if you need anything, you know you can talk to me.”

“Of course. Gotta go. A customer just walked in.” Summer hung up and more guilt washed over her for yet another lie.

Fib, she told herself, but it didn’t do much for the guilt.

Phone still in hand, Summer sent a quick text to Vanessa. ‘Sup?’

She realized she hadn’t spoken to her friend since New Year’s, not even a crazy party story. And Vanessa always had those. She scrolled through their conversation history and saw that it really had been a week already. They never went this long without talking.

More guilt piled on. She’d been too caught up in her own mess to check in on her best friend.

No reply came back, which made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

Did DeVilla get his hands on Vanessa? But how? Would he stoop that low?

Summer knew the answer to that before the thought had even finished. Yes. And lower.

She shook her head and dropped the phone in her pocket. She was just being paranoid. Vanessa was out of the country since July. She was probably jet lagged and just catching up on sleep.

There was nothing to worry about.

“Thanks, sorry,” Alex said as she handed the puppies over to Summer.

“No problem. I was gonna miss the little guy, anyway.” Summer squeezed Barney, then patted Betty on the head. “And little girl.”

“We shouldn’t be long. We’re just gonna do a couple rounds of putt-putt. I think he needs to blow off some steam.” Alex bit her lip and looked sheepish at the admission.

Summer knew full well why Evan needed to blow off steam. He’d been texting her nonstop since she walked out of the salon two hours before. She knew it was killing him to not be able to talk, but it was better than her actually getting him killed by association. She was taking enough of a chance with Alex.

“Go. Have fun. But don’t let him win. Steam or not, you have a reputation to uphold.”

“Of course,” Alex said with a fresh smile. “They already ate, so don’t let them hit you with those puppy eyes.”

“You know I won’t be able to resist. So it’s better you don’t ask when you get home.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to-”

Summer closed the door.

Now that her apartment was slightly furnished, the dogs were having a harder time gaining speed, but they sure tried. Betty charged at Barney, trying and failing to wrestle the ball from him. “You two play nice. I’m gonna…”

Gonna what? Summer asked herself.

She hadn’t had a moment’s peace in days.

Without thinking, or at least without admitting that she was thinking about it, Summer grabbed her laptop and settled down onto the couch. Before she knew it, she was back on the site with the study about people with beef allergies. It was so rare, there had to be a connection.

It took some digging, but soon she had a list of ten names, two of which had the same last name, Owens. Summer took that to mean a genetic component to the allergy, passed down from parent to child. She thought briefly about how stressful it must be to raise a child with a deadly allergy to something so normal.

In school, there had been a boy who was allergic to peanuts and she’d felt so sorry for him. In second grade, she practically survived on PB&J. She couldn’t imagine a life without her favorite comfort food.

Summer spent most of the next couple of hours shamelessly online, stalking everyone on the list. She found socials for most of them, except three. One was rather old and it made sense she wouldn’t be on social media. But the other two, the family pair, were conspicuously absent. The youngest one, the son, should have been at least twenty by now. Surely he’d have some online presence.

Unless I’m too old to know what socials a twenty-year-old would use.

Again she thought of Vanessa, the one person her age who was still up on all that stuff. She checked her phone to find what she already expected. Nothing.

To distract herself, Summer friend-requested the six people she could find. She was now utterly enthralled by the hunt, and determined to find out who this father and son were. And why they didn’t exist online.

It didn’t take long to get her answer. One of the women in the study also made it her mission to keep track of everyone in the group. And she sent Summer a link to an article from six years before. The headline read, ‘Tragedy Strikes Family Already Dealing with Health Crisis.”

Summer’s heart sank and she was about to click on it when a knock sounded at the door.

“I told you there’s no need to knock,” she told Alex as she opened the door.

But it wasn’t Alex.

A large man in a black leather jacket towered over her.

11

Summer recognized him instantly.

Jerry.

DeVilla’s henchman!

Summer gasped and tried to slam the door on him, but it was too late. A massive hand reached through and grabbed her jacket collar. Summer swore at herself for not taking the thing off when she got home.

“It’s no use!” the man growled.

“How did you find me? How did he get past security?”

“Not my concern.” The man pulled her toward the door.

Barney and Betty realized the commotion was not all in fun and started barking. They charged forward, biting the man’s foot.

He cried out and his grip on her jacket loosened for a brief moment. But it wasn’t enough to get away. Jerry shoved farther into the doorway and his other hand swiped at her, trying to find purchase.

Barney and Betty rushed forward again, this time biting down on his shin. With another scream, the man let go of Summer and swatted at the puppies, but they were too fast.

Summer was also fast. With him distracted, she pushed the door closed and slid the lock in place. There was no time to celebrate. Before she could even take a calming breath, the man pounded on the door. It rattled Summer’s bones. It was so hard.

“Why are you doing this?” Summer yelled through the door while bracing her entire body against it.

“You know why!”

“I left! I’m not doing anything. Please, let me start a new life!”

“That’s not up to me. And you know it’s in your best interest to stop all this foolishness and come with me.” Jerry’s voice was lower, like he didn’t want to make more of a scene than he already had.

Summer used that to her advantage. “We have security, you know! They do checks every hour,” she lied.

Jerry, for all she knew him, should have been able to tell she was lying, too. But she heard the concern in his voice when he responded. “Then come out quietly and nobody has to get hurt.”

She lowered her own voice to match his. “Jerry, please.”

Using his name seemed to have the desired effect. His pounding had stopped and now she no longer felt him pushing against the door.

“I promised not to say anything then, and I’ve kept my word. I’ll promise again if you want. I got out. Please, just let me start my new life. You can trust me. I just want to mind my own business and live in peace.”

Jerry’s voice got closer, almost as if he was whispering in her ear. “That’s not what our contacts say. You’ve been making quite a name for yourself.”

“I’ll stop. I’m sorry. I’ll stop all of it if you just leave. Please, Jerry.” She tried using his name one last time to appeal to his conscience.

His footsteps receded. “Just remember, we tried to do this the nice way.”

Summer slid down the door and started to cry. She’d only seen it done in the movies and always thought it was a bit much, but now she understood. Her legs refused to work.

Barney and Betty ran to her and started jumping and whining. She couldn’t tell if they were trying to comfort her or she needed to comfort them. So they all three stayed on the floor, cuddling and comforting each other for a few minutes.

When everyone had settled enough for Summer to stand up, she immediately called Aunt Clara.

“Hi! Your ears must have been ringing. We were just talking about you!” Aunt Clara sounded chipper as ever.

“Can I talk to Carl?”

“What’s wrong?” Aunt Clara’s mood instantly dropped.

Summer knew if she said too much, or heard her aunt’s voice for one second longer, the tears would start again. “I just…is he there?”

“Sure, sweetie. Hold on.”

There was a brief shuffle and whispering before Carl’s low, booming voice came on the line. “Summer? What’s wrong?”

It took everything she had to keep the tears at bay, but she got the words out in one breath. “Can you come get me?”

“I’ll be right there!”

The line went dead and Summer looked around her new apartment, wondering if this was the last time she would ever see it. She gathered a few belongings; a change of clothes for work, her charger, and the bag of dog food.

A long ten minutes later, when there was another knock on the door, it was accompanied by Carl’s calm voice. “It’s me, kid.”

Summer flung open the door and wrapped Carl in a hug. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t you dare. What do you need?” He looked down at the small bag she’d packed and immediately took it.

“I just need to be away from here, but…” It occurred to Summer in that moment that she had her own car. She’d been so scared, she only wanted someone to come save her.

Carl didn’t leave her much time to berate herself for her lack of heroism. He took the dogs’ leashes and Summer’s hand, locked the door, and led them to his truck.

As soon as the door closed, the tears returned. “I’m so sorry. I should have just driven myself. I took you away from your son. I’m sorry.”

“Henry’s fine. He’s probably glad you got me out of the house. Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” Carl’s dad voice made Summer miss her parents even more, which made talking through the tears nearly impossible.

They had almost made it to Henry’s house before she was calm enough to tell him. “Please don’t say anything to Aunt Clara. I don’t want her to worry.”

Carl opened his mouth to say something, but she kept going, not giving him a chance to get a word in.

“Brady wants me to get information on Harding…at the jail! I already went there once and he wouldn’t talk to me. And now I have to do it again. He’s got this file, Brady does—well, Brady has Harding’s file that had a bunch of stuff about-” She stopped. She couldn’t remember if she’d told Carl about DeVilla. Was she prepared to bring another person into this mess?

“Get it out,” he said gently. “I’m a retired detective, remember? You can’t shock me.”

Summer took a deep breath. “Harding knows about what happened in Georgia. He has this whole file about it. Ways to get rid of me. All because I want to buy the hair salon. I mean, who does that?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“It’s not just that. He had Evan in there, too. He was going to take Evan’s shop just to get to me.”

“But he’s in jail now. He can’t hurt you.”

“Not for long.” Summer shrugged. “Something happened with the case and he might get out. And…and he’s the least of my problems. Someone from Georgia found me. He showed up at my apartment!”

And I can’t get ahold of Vanessa!

Summer didn’t say that part out loud. It sounded too crazy, even to her. Vanessa was always going MIA. She forced herself to believe nothing was wrong, on that front at least.

“Oh, Summer,” Carl whispered.

“And the worst part is…” Summer took another breath. This one wasn’t as deep as the last. She felt like she was hyperventilating. “The worst part is, I still couldn’t leave this new case alone. I just have to know what happened. You’d think I’d learn my lesson, but nope!”

“Case? You mean the cruise choking thing? How is that a case?”

“He didn’t choke. He had a very rare, very deadly allergy to red meat. And he made it, like, fifty years without dying from it. So why now? That can’t be a coincidence, right?” Summer clamped her mouth shut.

Even after everything, she couldn’t stop herself from obsessing about the case.

Then she caught a glimpse of Carl’s expression out of the corner of her eye and wondered if he did that on purpose. His way of snapping her out of her shocked state.

They pulled up to Henry’s house, a quaint little block home with an immaculate lawn. Carl put the truck in park and turned to Summer. “Promise me you’ll drop whatever you think is going on with this choking—allergy case. You need to lay low.”

“I promise.” And as the words came out of her mouth, even after everything that had just happened, Summer knew it was a lie.

12

Aunt Clara made no attempt to hide the fact that she was staring out the window, watching them come up the driveway. She waited half the appropriate time before rushing outside to gather Summer and the puppies into her arms.

“Is everything OK?” Aunt Clara checked Summer over, then took Betty from her. “How’s my sweet boy?”

“Girl,” Summer said, then she checked Barney to be sure. Yep, his guyliner was darker.

“Well then, how’s my sweet girl?”

Betty licked Aunt Clara ravenously, showing she harbored no hard feelings about the mix up.

Carl pushed past them with Summer’s bag. “I’m gonna go check on Henry.”

“I’m fine,” a similar deep voice said from the doorway. Henry looked anything but sick. He stood a few inches taller than Carl, but had the same wide frame and unruly brown mop of hair. He gave Summer an exasperated smile and eye roll just in case she had any doubts about his fitness.

“Henry, Summer. Summer, Henry,” Carl said on his way inside. “I’m gonna make some clear soup,” he added, ignoring his son’s groan.

Summer extracted herself from Aunt Clara’s grasp and went to shake Henry’s hand. “Hi, sorry to bother you when you’re sick. If it’s an imposition-”

Henry shot a glare at Aunt Clara. “Does the whole town know I got food poisoning?”

Summer turned back in time to catch Aunt Clara’s shrug.

“If he wanted to visit, he could have just come. He didn’t need to make this whole big deal about it.” Henry’s emphasis on the word ‘big’ sounded more like ‘embarrassing.’

And even more embarrassing, now I’m crashing the party…with two hyper puppies.

“I’m gonna check if my room at the Manor House is still available,” Summer said half to herself.

“Nonsense!” Henry said.

At the same time Aunt Clara said, “No!”

Henry smiled down at Summer. “I insist. If I have to deal with an overbearing parent, so do you.”

“And she’s just my aunt. Could you imagine if my actual parents were here?”

“Give it time. I’m sure my dad will invite them for the Dysentery Tour.”

Summer laughed, a real hearty laugh that erupted from her chest without warning. It instantly settled her nerves enough to make her step inside Henry’s house.

Henry was definitely a bachelor. Any surface that wasn’t covered in brown, was covered in sports memorabilia. The place had a recently tidied look, one she knew had more to do with Aunt Clara than anything. But for all its masculine charm, it felt inviting. Barney and Betty thought so, too. They immediately settled at the foot of the couch like they owned the place.

Summer allowed herself to take a deep breath, the first in a long time.

“You’re safe here,” Henry said, coming up behind her.

Aunt Clara made a noise that said she didn’t like the reminder of Summer not being safe somewhere.

Don’t worry, I’ve learned my lesson.

“That light up hairdo you made me give you must have been a hit. The salon’s been packed since we opened back up. I’m booked for the next two months. Mrs. Beesley is beside herself!”

Aunt Clara’s frown turned to a smile, which then turned to a beaming grin. As if that was the plan all along.

As it turned out, Henry’s quaint looking bachelor pad was quite deceiving. When Summer marveled at how many rooms there were, Carl made a ‘bigger on the inside’ joke that had Henry groaning.

That evening, after she and Henry took turns repeatedly promising both Aunt Clara and Carl that they were fine, Summer decided it was time for bed. In reality, it was barely 7:00PM, but she needed the alone time.

Aunt Clara showed her to one of the rooms, but not before pointing out the dead bolts on the doors and the security system wiring on the windows. It made sense. As the son of a detective, Henry would have his place sealed up like Fort Knox.

It was just what Summer needed to finally have a good night’s rest. And as soon as she hit the doorway of her room, her eyelids drooped.

Her phone rang as she watched the puppies claim their spots on the bed. She debated not answering. Evan had been trying to reach her ever since she’d texted Alex about sleeping at Henry’s with the puppies.

But curiosity got the better of her and she checked the message.

‘On a scale of 1 - 10?’

Summer rolled her eyes. She should have known using Henry’s name instead of Aunt Clara’s was a mistake. Alex would not stop needling her for information on his cuteness.

‘Yes, Betty’s doing great!’ Summer responded instead and sent a picture of both dogs cuddled at the foot of the bed. Somehow, regardless of all the bickering during the day, they always ended up tangled together at night.

‘We should come by and get them. Give you a break’

Summer didn’t know what she’d do without Barney to distract her from everything. She didn’t want to think about DeVilla or his henchman…or Drew Harding. And she couldn’t research the case. What else was there to do?

Besides, she caught the sneaky little mention of ‘we,’ and she knew exactly who the other half of that word meant.

Summer looked over at the dogs and had a sinking feeling. If something did happen, if Jerry had followed her, maybe it was best if they weren’t here.

‘Fine, but no we. You.’

‘Send me the address!’

As she typed out Henry’s address, Summer’s sinking feeling moved from the fate of her dogs to obvious lack of willpower. Because her first thought after giving in to Alex was, Now I can hole up in this room and get some work done.

And that work in question was clearly the case she’d just promised not to research.

But could she? Should she? Was she going to let DeVilla and Harding win? And possibly whoever killed poor Samuel King?

Alex pulled up a few minutes later in Aunt Clara’s yellow punch buggy. Summer patted herself on the back for forgetting it earlier. She met her friend at the door with Betty, after having argued with herself about keeping Barney by her side as insurance. With him needing constant attention, there was no way she’d have time to go back on her promise.

But all it took was one whimper from Barney when she handed Betty over to Alex to seal her fate. “Hold on,” Summer said, hurrying to her room to get his leash.

When she returned, Alex was standing fully inside the house, craning her neck to see around the corner to the living room.

“He’s out on the back deck with Aunt Clara and Carl,” Summer said with a bit of smug satisfaction.

“Who is?” Alex asked with faux innocence.

“Mmhmm.” Summer went to close the door, but Alex jammed her foot in to stop her. Summer had a flashback of Jerry doing the same thing, and fear washed over her, but she forced herself to stay calm.

“Please text him back,” Alex said. “At least tell him you’re alive.”

Alex’s use of the word ‘alive’ had Summer’s sinking feeling grow into a burning pit in her stomach. She still hadn’t heard from Vanessa.

She went back to her room and climbed on the now too empty and too big bed. Then she called Vanessa…twice. The second time, she left a message. “I can’t remember the last time I talked to voicemail. It’s been a while, Ness. I’m worried. Please call me.”

Then she opened up every social media app she could think of and sent a similar version of the same plea on each one. While doing so, she also checked the ones that show the last time someone’s logged in. None of them said anything under two days. Forty-eight hours. She had to be dead.

Summer called Sheriff Brady.

“You change your mind?” Brady asked, skipping the pleasantries.

“I have a problem,” she replied, also skipping pleasantries and ignoring his question. She realized in that moment that she’d never considered calling him about the near kidnapping and shook her head. Had this sort of thing really become normal for her?

“What’s that?”

“I have a friend I can’t reach. Vanessa Fischer. She hasn’t responded in a week. And she hasn’t logged into her socials in at least two of those days. That’s not normal. I’m very worried.”

“Maybe she made a New Year’s Resolution to quit all that stuff.”

Summer shook her head, though Brady couldn’t see her. “Social media is her job. She can’t quit.”

Brady laughed; one of those ‘kids these days’ huffs.

“Is that enough to report her missing? Or do a welfare check or something?”

“Maybe. But is there a reason to be concerned? I mean, where is she?”

“She lives in Orlando.”

“And?”

“And I’m just worried, alright?”

“What aren’t you telling me? Was she messed up with that stuff in Atlanta?”

“No!” Summer snapped. “Can’t I just be worried about my friend?”

“I’ll see what I can do. Vanessa Fischer. Orlando. Got it. And Ms. Snow, have you given more thought to-”

Summer hung up.

All she’d done the past few days was give all her thoughts to Harding. And DeVilla. And Sam King. She felt like she was losing her mind.

Against her better judgment, she pulled up the latest news article on Mr. King’s death. Police were still searching for the woman in the blue dress. She swiped over to her pictures and scanned the crowd for any sign of blue.

There, in the background of two pictures, was a blue sparkle. She couldn’t make out what it was, other than it was clearly fabric. And the woman seemed to be chatting up a boy in uniform nearly half her age.

Summer debated calling Brady again, but she needed him to focus on Vanessa. Besides, she was supposed to be leaving the case alone.

Before putting her phone away for good, she gave in and called Evan instead.

“Summer! I’ve been worried sick! Alex told me what happened.”

“I’m fine.”

“You can tell me if something’s going on. I’m here to help. I want to help, if you’ll just let me.”

Summer stifled her groan. “How many times have we been over this?”

“You don’t need a man to keep you safe.” There was a brief silence before he asked, “Are you sure that’s all?”

“What do you mean? Of course, that’s all.”

“Well, you were pulling away before…the incident.”

“I just think you’re better off keeping your distance for now.”

“I’ll respect your decision, but at least tell me why you keep pushing me away. I agreed to just be friends and now you don’t even want that. What did I do?”

“Nothing. I have to go. I’ll try not to make you worry.”

What else could she say?

It’s not you, it’s me? I’m afraid I’ll get you killed?

13

“Wait!” Evan said before she could hang up. “I’m coming over. You don’t need to be alone.”

“I’m not.”

Another silence, this one more awkward than the last. “You’re not…alone? Or home?”

“Both.”

“Oh.” The way he said it made Summer’s chest ache. “I didn’t realize…” His voice receded like he was about to hang up.

“I’m not on a date,” she felt the need to clarify. “I’m with Aunt Clara and Carl.”

“It’s fine.”

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

“It is. I promise. It’s just…you refuse to let a man save you, but last I heard Carl was a-”

“Ex detective.”

“Yeah, I get it. Really, it’s fine. I gotta go.”

She didn’t stop him. Wasn’t she just trying to get off the phone a moment ago? But somehow this felt wrong.

Summer groaned at herself for not sticking to her guns, and set her phone on the night stand. Then she grabbed her laptop to lose herself in a game for a while, to take her mind off things.

Unfortunately, when she opened it, the last thing she’d been looking at was still on the screen. The red meat allergy study with her notes on all the participants stared back at her. She tried to make herself close the laptop, but it was no use. Her hand wouldn’t budge.

To make matters worse, her news alerts started popping up. The woman in the blue dress had been identified. Summer’s resolve disappeared. She clicked on the link.

‘After a week long search, the mysterious woman in the blue dress connected to the tragic death of Samuel King on the New Year’s Cruise has finally been identified. Local woman, Liz Worrell, was seen by many as having an intimate dinner with Mr. King, though she was nowhere to be found when the man collapsed on the deck of the Ocean Explorer cruise ship. Some are wondering if the mix up truly happened as a result of negligence on the cruise line’s part, or if foul play is suspected.’

Summer couldn’t contain her glee as she read the story. She knew it wasn’t just a coincidence! And the more she read, the more she knew she’d been on to something.

‘Sheriff Brady declined to comment on the ongoing investigation, but sources close to the Spring Harbor Sheriff’s Department revealed that Ms. Worrell is being less than cooperative. She has refused to come into the department to give a statement, which calls into question some of her actions on the night of Mr. King’s death.’

Summer thought back to the pictures she had snapped of the crowd and how the woman in the blue dress had been leaning rather closely on a young crew member. That in itself was not suspicious. So what had she done? Summer kept reading.

‘Witnesses say Ms. Worrell spent some time during the dinner portion of the cruise in the galley instead of the dining area with her supposed date, Mr. King. Though the victim’s ticket was purchased as a single, sources say the couple became close rather early during the festivities and were inseparable for most of the night. That is, until she snuck off to the galley and then the victim fell over dead.’

“Wow,” Summer said. She checked the byline of the article to find out which reporter was letting their snark through. She wouldn’t mind contacting them with an exclusive. Maybe showing them the pictures would shed new light on why Ms. Worrell would prefer the galley crew. But the byline read, ‘Spring Harbor Gazette Staff Writer,’ and Summer frowned.

Was this enough to call the case closed? Did this mysterious woman find out about his allergy and decide it was easier to poison him than just ditch him? She knew men could be relentless, but that felt a bit extreme.

Also, the fact that everyone was so happy to blame her and totally forget about the possible negligence of the cruise line didn’t sit well with Summer. Someone on that ship had to know about his allergy. Someone besides a random woman he’d just met that night.

Was there no protocol for severe allergies? Did someone—or everyone—drop the ball and Mr. King paid the ultimate price?

How much red meat would be enough to kill him? Could that be explained by cross contamination?

Summer began jotting down all her questions on her laptop’s note pad. Then she clicked back over to the allergy study to find the answers, when there was a loud knock on the bedroom door.

“I’m not hungry,” Summer called toward the door. It was her second most used expression of the day, closely behind, ‘I’m fine…really.’

“Good thing I didn’t bring food.”

Summer froze.

“Evan?” She slammed the laptop shut and jumped up. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

“How about you open the door and let me tell you?”

Summer opened it, but stood there, blinking. She couldn’t believe he was here. In Henry’s house. Movement caught her eye over his shoulder and she looked up in time to see Aunt Clara giving her a double thumbs up.

Figures.

Evan moved closer and Summer stepped out of the way. They were now in a bedroom together, in someone else’s house. She clung to the door to keep it from closing.

“Would you prefer to go somewhere public?” Evan asked, clearly noticing the terror on her face.

“Not too public,” she said too quickly.

Which is worse? Being alone in a room in someone else’s house, or in public where any henchman can see us together?

Evan gave her a ‘poor thing’ frown and took a step back out of the doorway. On their way out, Summer could have sworn she caught him and Aunt Clara exchanging satisfied looks.

“Traitor,” she whispered to her aunt as they passed.

“Have a nice time, kids,” was Aunt Clara’s unbothered response.

The car ride was almost as awkward as them standing in the doorway back at Henry’s house. Evan talked of non-important things like the weather and some sports team she didn’t recognize. For her part, she smiled and nodded and made the appropriate ‘mmhmm’s in the right places. But really, she spent half the time re-reading the red meat allergy study in her mind’s eye and the other half staring in the rearview mirror, expecting to find an unmarked black car following them.

“I know you said you weren’t hungry, but you don’t have to be hungry for tacos,” Evan said as he pulled into a gravel parking lot. It was late enough in the evening that they were nearly the only people around, and a path of solar lights showed them the way to the Titan Taco Truck’s order window.

“I’m always hungry for tacos.” And she was. The smell hit her nose and pulled her forward like a pie on a cartoon window sill.

After they placed their orders and sat at one of the picnic tables, Evan heaved a big sigh and reached for Summer’s hand.

She didn’t pull away.

“Look, I’m sorry for just showing up like that. I’m not trying to be a stalker or anything.”

“More like a conspiracy,” Summer said, remembering Aunt Clara’s double thumbs up. “Was Alex in on it, too?”

His silence told her everything.

No wonder she insisted on getting the puppies.

“We’re just worried about you. What happened today was…scary. I had to see for myself that you’re alright.” His voice cracked, and she hated herself for shutting him out like that.

“I’m fine,” she promised for the millionth time that day. She didn’t know how much Aunt Clara and Alex had told Evan, but she also didn’t want to make him worry any more. And she really didn’t want him feeling like he had to stick by her side in all this. Because that was the most dangerous place for him.

“How’s the case?” Evan asked, startling Summer enough for her to choke on her taco.

“What case?” Summer asked back after struggling to breathe again.

He stared at her, deadpan, and waited.

“I’m not working the case. There is no case. I’m letting the cops handle it.”

Nothing.

“Really, I’m done with all that.”

“Good, because I’d hate for you to waste your time investigating an obvious choking accident.”

“Accident?” Summer slammed her hand on the table. “And he didn’t choke. He had an allergic reaction to-” She caught herself, but it was too late.

Evan grinned and took a big bite of his taco.

“Jerk.”

“So, how’s the case?” he asked again, pointedly.

Defeated, Summer gave in to the thrill of the hunt for answers. “They finally tracked down the woman in the blue dress. Did you see her? I got a couple pictures of her but nothing incriminating, unless you consider flirting with a twenty-something boy incriminating. But then she’s refusing to talk to the cops. So that doesn’t look good for her.”

“But?”

Summer smiled. He knew her so well. “But why? What’s her reason for befriending a guy on a cruise and why? Learning he has a deadly allergy and deciding to kill him? In the span of three hours? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“And you said it was an allergy?”

“Yeah!” Summer leaned in. “To red meat! Have you ever heard of anything like that?”

Evan glanced down at his taco, then set it on the plate. “Wow. I couldn’t imagine going through life without hamburgers…and spaghetti…mom’s meatloaf…sloppy Joes…”

Summer clapped her hands to snap him out of it.

“Wouldn’t that mean it’s still an accident? Just not choking?”

Summer shook her head. “He was forty-seven. He didn’t survive that long with a deadly allergy by letting accidents happen. So either someone poisoned him with red meat, or the cruise line was extremely negligent. Either way, that’s something to investigate.” She caught herself and leaned back. “For the cops to investigate, I mean.”

“Or,” Evan said with his trademark grin, “or Spring Harbor’s very own hair-styling-murder-solving newest resident.”

Summer couldn’t help but laugh until he said the next part.

“And her trusty sidekick.”

She put down her taco.

“It’ll be fun. We could go check out the ship. I’m sure it’s still docked. Maybe see how the galley’s set up. How easy it would be to cross contaminate. Or to sneak in and slip a chunk of steak into a specific person’s food.”

Summer wiped her fingers on her napkin. “I think we should go. I should get back home—to Henry’s—before Aunt Clara worries.”

“Summer, come on. Tell me what’s going on. If you just don’t want to talk to me anymore, I-I’ll leave you alone. But obviously there’s something here.” He motioned between them.

“Fine, if you won’t leave well enough alone. It’s not safe for you to be near me. The more you come around, the more danger you’re in.”

“Because of Atlanta?”

“Yes…no…not just that. It’s a lot of things. We should stop seeing each other. It’s for your own good.” She stood up to go and he took her hand.

“Let me decide what my own good is.”

14

Summer let him pull her back to her seat.

“You know you can’t let this go. With everything happening, the stuff I know about and the stuff I don’t, you still have to figure the mystery. You should see the way your face lights up when you talk about it.” He smiled and squeezed her hand.

“Like you with soil content and roasting temperatures of different coffee beans.”

“Hey, I stand by my statement about the merits of low and slow,” he said with a shrug.

“It all tastes the same to me.”

Evan clutched his chest like he’d been shot. “For your sake, I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.” They both laughed and he pulled out his phone. “Now, what’s the guy’s name?”

Summer chewed on her cheek. “I don’t know…”

“Look, you know you won’t rest until this is solved. You’re already on the case. If you want to quit, sit the next one out.”

“And what if I figure it out? I can’t do anything about it. I’m supposed to be laying low.”

“Then I’ll take all the credit.” Evan smirked.

She couldn’t stop the smile forming on her lips. “If you insist.”

Summer reached for her phone and realized she’d left it on the night stand. “Samuel King, but it’s weird. I had trouble finding anything on him. It’s like he just blinked into existence a few years ago.” She patted her pockets, now desperately feeling for the phone she knew wasn’t there. “I don’t have my phone. Or my laptop.”

“Should we…go back?” Her expression must have said it all because he added, “And keep the door open.”

“Door open,” she repeated, getting up again.

When they returned to Henry’s, all the lights were off. They quietly went to Summer’s room, leaving the door open as promised, and set up the laptop and both phones for research.

“I remember one of the participants sent me an article, but I didn’t get the chance to look at it.” She pulled up the link again. “‘Tragedy Strikes Family Already Dealing with Health Crisis,” she read out loud.

“Sounds promising,” Evan said, leaning in to read along with her.

‘Phillip Owens, 40, of Chesapeake Bay, died tragically in a boating accident just one year after his wife, Sharon, died from complications after a routine surgery. Phillip, who made local medical news with his son, Michael, for their rare health condition, disappeared Friday evening on what should have been a fun family outing. Phillip’s brother-in-law, Anthony Lewis, was waiting on shore for him when he didn’t return on time. The Coast Guard later found the small fishing boat, with eleven-year-old Michael alone and crying. He said his father’s pole had fallen in the water and he’d gone in after it, never resurfacing.’

Summer gasped when she got to the end of the first paragraph. “That poor kid.”

“Horrible,” Evan said as Summer read on.

Michael, orphaned at eleven, ended up living with his aunt and uncle in North Carolina. They searched for more news on him, to see how he was doing now, but found nothing.

“Dead end,” Evan said, turning off his phone screen. “I wonder if there’s someone else. Someone who didn’t participate in the study.”

“I don’t know. It’s all too strange. You know how I feel about coincidences. And none of that would explain the reports of Liz Worrell going back to the galley right before dinner service. Then the guy sitting beside her dies of a food allergy?”

“I thought you didn’t believe that she did it?”

“I’m not sure what I believe. It still bothers me that she won’t talk to the cops.”

Evan unlocked his phone again. “Liz Worrell…oh, she’s local. Creepy.”

“Right? So much for a quaint, safe little small town.”

“Hmm, according to socials, she was on the cruise celebrating her divorce.”

“Explains chatting up younger guys,” Summer mused.

“Ooh, her second divorce…”

“I think we have ourselves a black widow situation.”

Early the next morning, there was another knock at the door. Summer jumped up to answer it and nearly fell out of the bed. In her stupor, she’d forgotten where she was, misstepping onto what she thought would be her small rug. When her foot hit cold hard floor, she yelped.

“Summer?”

“Evan?”

“You didn’t set the alarm, did you?”

She’d been about to also ask what time it was, but his teasing question stopped her. “Maybe.”

“Well, open up. I’ve got coffee.”

The door swung open and she snatched the outstretched coffee cup. It was cold and sweet going down and she let out a little sigh.

After a respectable pause, Evan looked her over and said, “I’ll wait in the living room for you to-” His eyes raked over her again.

Summer realized she was still in her night clothes, which consisted of an oversized college shirt and bike shorts. She slammed the door.

A quick five minutes later, they were in Evan’s car, getting ready to go. “So, Florida State, huh?” Evan asked with a wry smirk.

It took her a second to get what he was saying, then her cheeks burned. “Jealousy does not look good on you.”

“Maybe,” he replied, copying her guilty tone from earlier. “But my Dartmouth shirt would look good on you.”

Summer leaned back in her seat, feeling smug. Truth was, she couldn’t remember where she got that Florida State shirt.

Alex had just opened the sock shop when they pulled up. The lights still flickered as Summer opened the door and let the puppies run to her. Alex came running, too, but for a different reason. She couldn’t take her eyes off Summer and Evan together.

Summer tried to give her a warning look but it was too late.

“What do we have here?” Alex asked neither of them in particular, but gave Summer a knowing nudge.

While Summer paid very close attention to the puppies and nothing else, Evan saved her by speaking up. “We’re working the case.”

“Really?” Now the nudge was for a different reason.

Summer finally gave in. “Evan’s helping me research some stuff.”

Alex grinned from ear to ear. “Partners in crime…solving.”

“On that note,” Summer said, giving the puppies one last hug.

“Well, I’m glad you’re getting back to what makes you happy. Just be careful.” Alex gave them both a hug and showed them out. “Here, take this,” she said at the last second and handed each of them a tote bag from the stand by the door. “Advertising!”

Evan stared blankly at his but Summer put it over her shoulder and walked to the car. “What’s the matter? You don’t want to be seen with a bright pink bag with a giant foot on it?”

The way he stuffed the bag in the trunk was answer enough.

Their next stop was Summer’s apartment to get some clothes and her favorite notebook. She’d almost been embarrassed to tell him she had a Murder Notebook, but if he was going to be her partner in crime…solving, he needed to get used to it.

For the first time in days, Summer felt hopeful. As much as she hated to admit it, having Evan by her side was calming. Her resolve restored and she had the confidence to face the challenges ahead. This case was so confusing. She’d been sure Samuel King was the man from the allergy study, although the name didn’t match. What were the odds that another person had the rare, deadly form of the allergy but flew under the radar all these years? She’d thought that since he was the only one she couldn’t track down, it meant he was the one. But now she knew that man wasn’t traceable because he’d died several years back.

“Do you think his family will sue the cruise line?” Evan asked. He’d apparently been thinking about the case, too.

“I don’t know. As far as I can tell, nobody’s claimed him yet. It’s so sad.”

“I’d claim you,” Evan said, then clamped his mouth shut.

Summer watched him turn red. “If I died. You’d claim me?” She stifled a giggle.

“I’d claim you now,” he said, turning to face her.

“Eyes on the road, Larson.”

Her phone rang, giving them both an excuse to break eye contact.

“Might want to put that thing on silent now that we’re back on the case,” Evan quipped. “Wouldn’t want it to ring while we’re casing a perp’s hideout.”

“You sure took to this crime solving thing pretty quickly.”

He shrugged. “All that hanging out with Carl.”

“Carl? Not me? I’ve got two cases under my belt already.”

“Who is it?” He changed the subject.

Summer glanced at her phone. “Brady. He forwarded me a confirmation of my next appointment to see Harding.”

“And?”

“And…” She took a deep breath and smiled. “And I’m ready.”

Just in time for them to arrive at her apartment building. She sent back a quick thumbs up to Sheriff Brady and went inside. She never imagined she’d be on a texting basis with the sheriff, but here she was.

Maybe hair isn’t my calling. Maybe I’m really supposed to be a private investigator? Cracking cases, side by side with Evan.

She shook that image away. She loved doing hair. That thought reminded her she needed to talk to Mrs. Beesley. As they rode the elevator up, she sent a quick text. ‘I need a day or two. Something came up. I’ll tell you when I get back. And I’m still looking for the second stylist. Sorry’

She hated missing work over this, but she couldn’t risk Jerry showing up at the salon.

When they reached her apartment, the lock was broken. Evan put his arm out to stop her from going in, and he went in first. Nothing looked disturbed, but it felt wrong. Then she saw it. An envelope on her bed.

Evan got to it first and opened it.

Inside were pictures of the two of them outside the taco truck.

15

“You have to do something!” Summer yelled at Sheriff Brady as soon as they were in his office with the door closed. She slammed the envelope down on his desk.

Brady opened the envelope and looked at the pictures. Then at Summer, then Evan, who was waiting by the door. “Interesting.”

“Someone tried to grab me from my apartment last night!”

“Why didn’t you report it?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because the last time I was here, you flat out said you weren’t going to do anything to help me unless I helped you.”

Sheriff Brady made a face that clearly meant that statement still stood.

“I can’t stay at my apartment. I had one week in there and now I can’t go back!”

With another glance at Evan, he said slowly, “I’m sure you’ll make arrangements.”

“Why aren’t you taking this seriously?” Summer pounded the table and Evan came up behind her to pull her back.

“I am. But what would you like me to do? You didn’t make a report when this alleged kidnapping attempt happened. And these…” He pushed the envelope toward her. “Maybe lover boy here has a wife he’s not telling you about. This is clearly a P.I. shot. Hide in the tree line with an extended lens.”

Summer didn’t bother looking back at Evan. She knew that wasn’t the case.

“Look,” Brady said, steepling his fingers together like a movie villain. “I can maybe put you in a safe house. I’d have to move some funds around and…”

She began to shake her head, then caught herself. “Wait…do you mean you’ll put me in a safe house if I’m still willing to help with Harding?”

“We’re a small office, Ms. Snow. This whole ordeal is bigger than anything we’ve seen around here. I’m already maxed out with this Harding business. Now, I sympathize with your plight. I really do. But you showed up here in our town a couple of months ago and brought bad people with you. Why don’t you get ahold of someone in Atlanta? Whoever’s handling your case down there. Have them send their resources.”

Evan, who had been quiet up to this point, put himself between Summer and Sheriff Brady. “I thought you were a man of honor, Brady. How can you speak this way to a citizen of your town? I don’t care if Summer arrived just last night. She’s here now and she needs help. And it’s your job to help her. Unless you no longer want to be sheriff of Spring Harbor.”

Brady huffed. “You think anyone else wants this job? And I am willing to help. I just offered up my safe house. I’ll go to your apartment and dust for prints. I already put out some feelers for your friend, Ms. Fischer. I just need some help in return.”

Summer shook her head for real this time. She’d been so confident and ready to solve this case and to confront Harding. And now…she couldn’t imagine doing anything that would put Evan—or Vanessa-in more danger.

“Reschedule my meeting with Harding. I need some time to think.”

The only place Summer ever felt calm enough to think was at the salon. With her hands moving of their own accord, her mind was free to work out all the world’s problems. Or at least, all the problems in the little world she made for herself.

Evan dropped her off in front of the salon with the promise of doing some research of his own while she cleared her head. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek—totally something just friends would do—and hopped out of the car.

“Hey!” Tillie said with too much enthusiasm, undercut by a sense of worry.

“Snow,” Mrs. Beesley said, coming out of the back room. “I thought you were taking some time off.”

“Yeah, I thought I was, too.” She’d just told herself she couldn’t come here because it was too dangerous and now here she was.

Can I make one smart decision?

“Well, I’m glad you’re here. We could use the extra hands!” Mrs. Beesley gestured toward the full waiting area. Summer noticed she was a bit thinner than usual. She’d been so caught up in her own drama, she hadn’t asked about her partner’s well being.

“Yep, I’m here.” Summer put her hand on Mrs. Beesley’s shoulder. “Let me help.” She hoped the double meaning of her words wasn’t lost on her friend. The way Mrs. Beesley’s shoulders fell, she knew they’d hit their mark. Once this whole mess was over, they would have a long talk about their future. The future of this shop, that may still include both of them after all.

“Alright!” Summer clapped her hands and turned toward the waiting area. “Who’s next?”

Summer breezed through several customers on autopilot. She’d worked out how long she could comfortably stay at Henry’s before deciding whether to go home or back to The Manor House Inn. Two days. She’d also worked out when she’d be ready to see Harding again, because she knew she would. That also happened to be two days.

But mostly she alternated between worrying about Vanessa’s whereabouts and the true identity of Samuel King. She couldn’t believe she was even entertaining this thought, but it made so much sense. All the time she—and now she and Evan—had spent looking for information on him had been a bust. He just didn’t exist before years ago. In this day and age, that wasn’t possible, unless by choice.

She felt crazy for even entertaining the idea. It didn’t help her delusions that the man she’d originally thought was the victim, the Mr. Owens from the red meat allergy study, had died under mysterious circumstances about thirteen years ago as well.

Am I really thinking what I think I’m thinking?

“Summer,” Mrs. Beesley’s concerned voice broke through her haze.

“Yes?” Summer asked, looking up from the customer’s hair she’d been washing.

Mrs. Beesley leaned in so only she could hear. “You’ve been shampooing Mrs. Weatherly for ten minutes.”

“Oh!” Summer grabbed a towel and helped Mrs.Weatherly up. “If you’ll go to my station right over there, I’ll be with you in a moment. Feel free to pick a song you like on the tablet.”

“Why don’t you go home? Tillie can finish up here.”

“I can’t.” It took everything she had to not let the panic show. “I need to be here. Besides, if you can come in everyday with what you’re going through, so can I.”

Summer turned to go before Mrs. Beesley could argue. When she got to her station, Mrs. Weatherly had chosen a playlist titled ‘Beach Bum’ which Summer had painstakingly crafted with the perfect vacation music.

She got to work giving Mrs. Weatherly a short but not too short bob while they both hummed along with the upbeat tunes. Though it didn’t stop her ears from perking up when Gage Jackson’s somber tone came on the TV at her back. At first she merely listened, like any normal person would. Until Gage mentioned that Samuel King’s body still had not been claimed by family.

Summer slowly inched the chair around so she and Mrs. Weatherly were facing the TV. Her hands froze in midair, not cutting or combing or fluffing. She just stared intently at the screen.

“Sources say that on top of Mr. King’s body not being claimed, the sheriff’s office is having a great deal of trouble even locating a next of kin. What started out as a tragic accident has become something much bigger, and much more mysterious.”

The camera switched back to the news desk where Myra Weston sat in a smart blue suit shuffling papers. “Gage, has there been any word on how responsible the cruise line will be held for this death? Are there any charges or lawsuits pending?”

“Well, Myra, that’s the problem. With no family to start a claim, the cruise line might not be held liable for Mr. King’s death. And while there has been no formal statement by Odyssey Cruise Lines, the parent company of the Ocean Explorer, we did have a chance to speak somewhat off the record with a galley employee.”

Gage checked his notes. “Last night I spoke with a young man who wishes to remain anonymous. We’ll call him Freddie. He told me that while he had food safety training in culinary school, the cruise line itself did a poor job of enforcing those procedures. He even went as far as to say that he was reprimanded for ‘taking too long’ and holding up the line when he tried to implement these safety procedures at his own work station. No word yet on a reply from Odyssey.”

Summer now had more questions than before. While the possibility of it being pure negligence and greed was looking more likely, one matter stood front and center in her thoughts.

Maybe there was no family to claim this poor dead man…because he’s already been declared dead.

16

Summer quickly finished Mrs. Weatherly’s bob, then took Mrs. Beesley up on her offer to go home. Though home was the last place she wanted to be right then.

When she’d formulated this plan in the short five minutes it took to finish blow drying Mrs. Weatherly’s hair, she’d forgotten one small but important detail. She didn’t have her car.

Lucky for Summer, it was a brisk but comfortable afternoon. Perfect walking weather. Though the closer she got to the pier, the more she wished for a hat or at least a light jacket.

The long walk was also a great time for her mind to run wild. She couldn’t shake the fear that gripped her heart over not being able to reach Vanessa. She tried several times and left several worried voicemails until the polite robot voice told her Vanessa’s mailbox was full.

Summer’s next call was to Brady. “Did you file the missing person’s report? I still can’t get ahold of Vanessa. Something’s wrong.”

“Good afternoon, Ms. Snow.” He waited for her to greet him back. She did not. “Filing a formal missing person’s report is more complicated…jurisdictionally. However, I did contact the sheriff’s office in Orange County and requested a welfare check. I’m waiting to hear back.”

“Thank you,” she said reluctantly. For all his slimy behaviors, at least he was doing his job. She wondered how much Evan’s threat got to him, or if he had been planning to help her all along. He just needed to convince her to help with Harding.

“About our other matter…”

“I know. I know. Just give me another day at least. I’m…still spooked about the break in.”

“Of course.”

“Did you dust for prints?” Summer knew who tried to kidnap her. But that didn’t mean Jerry was the one who showed up that evening with the envelope of pictures. She needed to be sure.

“My guys are there now. We should have an update for you in a couple of days.”

Summer tried not to be suspicious of that timing. Would he have the update on her break in after she met with Harding?

She shook her head. No, it probably just takes that long to process a scene. Longer, really. Maybe he was doing her a favor after all. Speeding up her investigation because she was helping him with his. “Thank you,” she said again. This time, it didn’t taste as bad in her mouth.

“Where are you?” Brady asked.

On my way to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong. “Nowhere.”

“Ms. Snow.”

“Sheriff Brady.”

Brady sighed and when he spoke again, his voice sounded like he was holding the bridge of his nose between two fingers. “Please tell me you’re not where I think you are.”

“Depends on where you think I am.” She was not going to tell him. If he was such a good sheriff, let him figure it out. But he wasn’t, was he? Or he would have been all over this ‘accidental choking’ case from the very beginning. He would have known Samuel King wasn’t really Samuel King. And that the poor woman in the blue dress was an innocent bystander who just happened to have the misfortune of chatting up the wrong guy at a party.

“I hear water, Ms. Snow.”

Hmm. Not bad. “If you must know, I’m running a bath.” Summer looked out over the water, unsure of which ship was the Ocean Explorer. They look different in the daylight.

“Ms. Snow, please do not insult my intelligence.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Summer opened her mouth to lie again, but a large hand clamped down hard on her shoulder and she went silent.

“You’re so bad at this.” Brady’s deep voice reverberated in her ear.

“Then teach me how to be better.”

“I’ll do no such thing. You’ve already gotten yourself in enough trouble, don’t you think? I thought for sure Jacobson would have talked some sense into you by now. Or at least your little boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend! And Carl actually likes that I’m investigating these cases. Somebody has to.”

Brady laughed. But his hand didn’t remove itself from her shoulder. “Jacobson was always a thorn in my side. I thought once he retired I wouldn’t have to put up with his constant interference and pushing me to go above and beyond. So annoying. And now he’s got his little Junior Detective running around doing it for him.”

“It’s not above and beyond if it’s what it takes to solve the case.” Summer wrenched her shoulder away from Brady. “And I’ll have you know, Carl only ever had nice things to say about you. Maybe you should return him that same kindness.”

“Maybe. Still doesn’t negate the fact that he’s encouraging you to get yourself killed. What nice things should I have to say about that?” Brady’s eyebrow raised, making him look eerily like John Wayne. Summer wondered if he practiced that in the mirror every morning.

“He’s not encouraging anything. I know there’s something going on here. I can feel it. And I can’t rest until I get to the bottom of it. Now, either you help or you don’t. But don’t stand in my way.”

“You’re forgetting which one of us has the badge, Ms. Snow.”

“And you’re forgetting which one of us desperately needs the other’s help.” She let that hang in the air for a moment. She knew she was crossing a line. With everything going on, Vanessa being MIA, DeVilla being spotted in Seattle, the pictures of Evan and her at the taco truck…she still couldn’t resist solving this murder. “If you want my help with Harding, you’ll indulge my curiosity.”

“You know what they say about curiosity and the cat.”

“I’m more of a dog person.”

“Ugh.” It was an unbecoming low noise, especially from a man of power. But it was music to Summer’s ears. She had him. “At least tell me you’re not carrying a weapon.”

“Should I be?”

“No!”

Brady led her onto the boat to the right, the one she wouldn’t have chosen first if she’d been alone. He was already proving to be a good partner.

The inside of the boat looked different in the daylight, as well. She had a brief memory of sitting at tables over to the right with Alex and Evan, but there were no tables now. She didn’t let herself look to the front—or the bow of the ship at the spot where he nearly kissed her.

They talked to a couple of crewmen, none she recognized from that night or from her pictures. She wondered if it was even the same people. None of them remembered the woman in the blue dress. Summer took out her phone and showed the best image she’d captured of Liz Worrell.

“Aww, no, don’t remember her. But that’s Charlie right there.” The young man nudged his buddy. “Looking mighty comfy with the local, huh.”

Summer turned to the friend. “Charlie?”

They both laughed again. “Nah, he’s over there…ma’am.” The second crewman added the last part as an afterthought while pointing toward a tall, sheepish boy in the corner. He looked every bit the part of a major corporation’s scapegoat, poor thing.

“Thank you,” she said, though she didn’t know how to feel about the ma’am. Was it just because she had Brady with her?

Charlie looked like he wanted to bolt, but to his credit, he stayed firmly planted in place. He even jutted out his hand when they made it over to him. Summer took it.

“Charlie?”

He nodded.

“We’d like to ask you a few questions about-”

“I’ve been advised by counsel not to speak to the cops.”

Counsel? Why would this kid have counsel? Unless…

“Lucky for you, I’m not a cop.” She turned to Brady. “If you would so kindly give me and Charlie here a moment?”

Brady made that low noise again, but did as he was asked. The haughty smirk he’d been wearing when they were off the boat was now gone.

Summer smiled at the boy and leaned in. “Freddie?”

His eyes went wide and his legs finally decided to run.

But Summer grabbed his arm and stopped him. “Don’t be scared. I’m here to help.”

17

Still, the boy looked like he was ready to run.

Summer kept her grip firm. “I know it’s not your fault. But I also know they’ll gladly let you take the fall if it keeps the lawsuits off them.”

He didn’t respond, but he allowed her to continue without pulling away.

“I was in your shoes once. My old boss was doing some really bad stuff, and I caught it. But I didn’t cooperate with the police until it was too late. My boss and his goons railroaded me into doing things I shouldn’t have and made me the scapegoat when the cops finally got him. And let me tell you, it’s a lot harder to blow the whistle from a jail cell.”

Freddie’s shoulders slumped and Summer knew she could let go. He looked at her dubiously. “You were in jail?”

“Almost. Luckily, I had proof of what was going on from before I got mixed up in everything. It’s the only thing that saved me.” That and fleeing across the country, she added only to herself.

“Proof?” Freddie’s ears perked up. It made him look even more young and vulnerable. She noticed the way his stubble barely came through in patchwork across his otherwise smooth face. And how that one brown curl wouldn’t stay out of his eye.

She needed to help this kid.

“What kind of food safety protocols do you have? Your process for guests with allergies? Cross contamination? That sort of thing.”

Freddie nearly laughed, but glanced over at Brady and the group of other crewmen. He lowered his voice. “Like I told that reporter…nothing. They run this kitchen like a sweat shop. Before that New Year’s thing, I’d told my folks I wanna go back home. I didn’t go to culinary school to work under these conditions, ya know.”

“Did the company know this?”

He shrugged. “Well, yeah, I guess. I mean, my supervisor sure did. We fought about it all the time. He was more worried about cranking out more crab puffs per hour than whether that crab got all over the ice cream in the freezer, ya know.”

“Yum.”

“But I know my station was clean. I followed my own very strict procedures. There was no cross contamination on my end.”

If he didn’t accidentally contaminate Mr. King’s dinner with red meat, then maybe the cruise line—and him—were off the hook, anyway. Because if it wasn’t an accident, it was foul play. Just like Summer said from the very beginning.

“Do you remember the woman in the blue dress?”

“The reporter showed me a picture of her, but all those people in fancy dresses look the same to me, ya know.” He punctuated the statement with another shrug.

“Did you see her hanging out in the galley?”

“No, I wasn’t over there.”

Brady made a coughing noise to tell Summer her time alone with the witness was up. Summer thanked Freddie and told him she’d be in touch. “I’m not going to let them throw you under the bus for this.”

Though, as Brady walked her to his cruiser, then drove her all the way to Henry’s, something Freddie said kept weighing on her mind.

If he didn’t see Liz Worrell in the galley, how did he know where ‘over there’ was?

The next day, Summer waited outside the jail entrance to collect her thoughts before her meeting with Harding. Brady hadn’t postponed it like she’d asked, but that was probably for the best.

“Get this over with,” she told herself.

She’d been up late going over her notes on the case with Evan, when she should have been doing this…mentally preparing for whatever nastiness Harding had in store for her. But it had been great to sit up late with Evan, comparing notes and theories.

He still favored negligence on the part of the cruise line parent company. He even found their local office address and planned to speak to someone today. She was so proud of her little Junior Detective—she’d decided to use Brady’s jab as a compliment. Take back the power.

For her part, she couldn’t stop thinking about the cook, Charlie, or Freddie as he’d taken to being called. What wasn’t he telling her? Could it be as simple as seeing Liz in the galley but wanting to put the spotlight on her the way it had been cast on himself? Possibly.

Was there more to the whole story than anyone was telling her? Probably.

Was she ready to go inside and face Harding? Definitely not.

Summer took one last deep breath and threw her hair up in a neat ponytail before opening the door. She always felt like she could take on the world when she had her ponytail, and today she could use that confidence boost.

Once again, Summer sat in front of the plexiglass wall with the phone receiver staring back at her. And once again, she waited.

And waited.

Finally, as if he could sense she’d about given up, Harding sauntered through the door on his side of the plexiglass. Though he was in a jumpsuit and cuffs, with two uniformed guard escorts, he acted like this was his boardroom and they were all just expendable underlings. He even had the nerve to flick his wrist at the guard on his right, motioning for him to be gone.

Summer waited for him to settle. She did not pick up the phone receiver until Harding spoke his first words.

“…Brady has outsourced his begging.”

“Why am I here, Harding?” She wasted no time giving in to his antics. She had places to be, cruise line executives to interrogate. There was no way Evan would get to have all the fun. She was wrapping this meeting up quickly and crashing his party.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Ms. Snow. You are nothing to-”

“I saw your file.”

That shut him up. Then made him angry. “This is my town. I say what goes around here.”

“I can tell,” she said, looking pointedly at his jumpsuit and the cops behind him.

“Temporary.”

“Whatever. That doesn’t answer my question. I didn’t do anything to you. My aunt didn’t do anything to you. I’d just arrived in town and you immediately tried to frame us for murder!”

“Not frame.” He rolled his eyes like she was being a petulant teenager. “And not for murder. That was a fortunate coincidence. But I couldn’t have you stealing my sale out from under me. Besides, I just wanted you to be a person of interest in the attempted arson at the salon. I wasn’t going to actually burn the place down. What good would it do me like that?”

“Oh, that’s all?” She returned his haughty tone.

All she got in return was a shrug. “That’s how real business is done. You, of all people, should know that.”

She knew he was referring to DeVilla. But she refused to think about that whole mess right now, especially sitting inside a jail. She might be on the right side of the plexiglass now, but this was too close for comfort.

Realizing she wasn’t going to get anywhere with Brady’s questions, she changed the subject to the only thing Harding was good for. Crimes.

“Have you ever known anyone to fake their death?”

Harding blinked, then looked at her like she’d suddenly become very interesting.

18

Summer watched the door slam behind Harding after their meeting. She hadn’t moved an inch the whole time he spoke. Now she was still frozen in her seat. She couldn’t wrap her head around everything he said.

“Ma’am,” the guard behind her said with a polite clearing of his throat.

Summer got up in a fog and followed him toward the lockers, where she had to secure all her items.

Her mind kept reeling, going over Harding’s story. None of it made sense. And if it was true, it put him in a whole new light. Not necessarily a good one, but a new one.

He has to be lying, was the best she could come up with.

But what if he’s not?

That would mean Spring Harbor was in more danger than anyone knew, unless they found a way to keep him behind bars.

Summer’s thoughts were interrupted by a familiar ringing. Her phone which she’d still not silenced was going crazy in her locker. She picked up her pace and waited for the guard to unlock it. All the while, the phone rang and rang, paused, then rang some more.

When she finally got her hands on it, there were dozens of missed calls and texts. Her mind went immediately to Vanessa, then Aunt Clara. Something was wrong!

Several of the calls were from Evan, but Alex was the most recent. Summer went to call her back when the phone rang again and she picked up.

“Summer!” Alex’s voice sounded like she’d been in a full panic for hours, which judging by the sheer volume of calls and texts, maybe she was.

“Hey, I’m fine. I had my meeting with Harding, remember? I’m just getting in the car now.” Summer braced against the cool air as she opened the lobby door and headed toward Aunt Clara’s yellow punch buggy, which she’d picked up from Alex earlier that morning under the guise of visiting the puppies. Alex didn’t need to know the real reason, that she wanted to follow Evan to the meeting with the cruise line if he refused to let her go willingly.

“No! Summer! Evan’s missing!”

“What? No, he’s not. He called me a hundred times. He must have forgotten-”

“He called you?”

“Yeah, a bunch. I’ll swing by and tell him in person. I could use a coffee, anyway.” Again, she didn’t mention that she wanted to tag along with him to the cruise line’s offices. Alex didn’t need to know she was jumping from one fire to another.

“Hang up and call him. Now!”

“What’s going-”

But the line went dead before she could finish.

She called Evan on the way to his coffee shop to clear everything up. He answered on the first ring.

“Hey, sorry, they made me leave my phone in-”

“Run!”

“What?”

“Get out of town. Start over somewhere far away!”

“Evan?”

There was a commotion on the other end of the line and a new, deeper voice came on. It sounded disguised. “You couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you?”

Summer’s first thoughts were of DeVilla. Did he have Jerry kidnap Evan along with Vanessa? Was he holding them both somewhere as bait to lure her back into his clutches?

Then she realized Aunt Clara hadn’t been one of the hundred missed calls. Was she in danger, too?

“Let them go! We had a deal!” Summer couldn’t hide the panic in her voice, but she tried to match it with force.

Because she’d gone back on her end of their bargain almost immediately. Those pictures of Evan and her had been a warning.

“If you want to see your boyfriend again, I suggest you stop snooping around the King case.”

Summer froze, stopping at a green light. Why would DeVilla care about the Samuel King case?

Then she realized Evan must have gone to see the cruise line company while she was at the jail. He had to have known she’d tag along. Well, this was what he got for sneaking off without her.

She made a quick turn before replying, “You almost got away with it. You had two scapegoats to choose from. Why do this?”

At once, Summer’s heart pounded as relief washed over her. If this was Odyssey Cruise Lines, then they weren’t holding Vanessa and Aunt Clara.

Again, the person tried disguising their voice, making it sound much deeper than it naturally was. And they must have been holding something over the phone to muffle it. “Because you had to go and be nosey. I didn’t fall for the fake offer to help, ya know. I saw through that. And then your boyfriend showed up this morning and I knew it!”

Summer headed toward the pier while trying to think of something to stall the voice on the other end of the line until she got there. She hoped she was right about this!

“I just saw a report on the news this morning. The police are still ruling it an accident. Not even negligence. There’s no need to go through all of this. Nobody’s even coming forward to claim the—man.” She caught herself before calling him ‘the victim’ or using his name. Both of those could have dire consequences for Evan if she set the man off.

She was almost there.

“Good,” the muffled deep voice said.

“So you’ll let him go? I promise to stop looking into the case. It’s going nowhere, anyway. Just let him go.”

“I want to believe. Really, I do. But I’ve been lied to by everyone I trusted, ya know? Why would you be any different?”

And there it was. The thing that kept scratching at the back of her mind. Regardless of how deep or distorted he made his voice sound, he couldn’t change the way he spoke. His linguistic mannerisms, or whatever one would call having to say ‘ya know’ at the end of every sentence.

“Charlie Owens,” Summer said in her best imitation of an angry mother. “Don’t you dare hurt that man.”

19

It had been a guess. An educated one, but still a guess. She’d had her suspicions. Her lack of belief in coincidences made it impossible to go along with the idea that Sam King—Phillip Owens—had died of any sort of accident. By the quick intake of breath on the other end of the line, Summer knew she was right.

“You don’t have to do this.” She used his name again, but softened her tone. “I understand why you did what you did. Everyone will understand. But this…there’s no coming back from this if Mr. Larson gets hurt.” Summer hoped using Evan’s last name would give him an air of authority and respect from the man who—by her calculations—would barely be twenty.

His silence made Summer’s stomach churn. Maybe she pushed him too far. She had to keep him talking until she could get to the pier. “Please let my friend go. I won’t tell anyone. He won’t either. He’s good at keeping secrets. He knows all of mine.”

“How did you know?”

“I knew all along, but I didn’t say anything because I thought you were right to do it. That’s why I came to the ship with the cops to warn you. I think you were totally justified and I knew we could blame it on the company. They have insurance for that kind of stuff.”

The whole time she wove her tale, she also texted Alex and Sheriff Brady. Both replied several times with several exclamation marks for her to stay away from the pier. Let the police handle it.

But she couldn’t. He had Evan and it was all her fault.

“I don’t believe you!” Charlie yelled, no longer bothering to disguise his voice, which cracked with emotion. “You showed up with the cops and came right over to me.”

“I told you, I was trying to help. And you were smart. You told him you had a lawyer. That made it even easier for me to talk to you without him there. And I didn’t say anything after we left. I told him the company lawyered up on your behalf and you were ordered not to talk.”

“And then your boyfriend just happened to show up? I’m not dumb, ya know. I know when people are lying to me. Everybody’s always lying to me!”

Evan’s voice cut in over Charlie’s. “I thought she came back here and I wanted to make sure she was safe!”

Summer yelled back, hoping Evan could hear. “No! I was taking care of something else! But I found out some very interesting information!”

As soon as he and Charlie both asked, “What?” Summer knew she had him.

But she didn’t get the chance to tell either one of them what she found out from Harding in her jailhouse meeting.

All of a sudden, Summer heard a scuffle and a loud bang.

“Evan! Evan! Charlie, please don’t hurt him!”

There was no answer.

Summer yelled into the phone several times and floored the car. She’d never seen Aunt Clara’s little yellow punch buggy move so fast, but the old car didn’t let her down. She kept redialing Evan’s number the whole way, but it just rang and rang.

The pier was just around the corner, though it didn’t feel like it in this moment. The short (fast) drive gave her too much time to think about all the mean things she’d said to Evan recently. All she’d done was push him away. He didn’t deserve any of it. She was so scared of letting someone in.

DeVilla was mostly to blame for it, she told herself. But not all.

She’d never been comfortable with close relationships. Aside from her family and Vanessa, she’d put up an impenetrable wall. If someone would have told her a year ago that she’d be in a new town with a new developing best friend, a dog, and a possible romance…

Despite everything going on in that moment, Summer had to smile. She’d come a long way from that lonely hermit. And if Charlie Owens did anything to destroy that happiness, she’d destroy him.

Her phone rang in the middle of trying Evan’s number again. It was Aunt Clara.

“Are you OK? Where are you? Please don’t go to the boat. Let the police handle it.”

“I can’t, Aunt Clara. He has Evan. I heard-” She cut herself off, refusing to say the words out loud. She’d been trying to convince herself that what she heard was not a gunshot, but she couldn’t lie to Aunt Clara.

“Carl and Henry said there were gunshots at the pier.” Aunt Clara’s voice sounded shrill, near panic.

Shots? As in more than one?

She had only heard one sound that she hadn’t wanted to admit was a shot. “Oh, Aunt Clara. I think I got Evan killed.” Summer broke down and told Aunt Clara everything. “It’s all my fault that he was there. And Vanessa! I can’t get ahold of her. I think DeVilla has her. It’s all my fault. I was supposed to stop looking into these cases. But I couldn’t! And now…It’s all my fault!”

“No! Everything will be alright. Just stay where you are. Carl and I will come get you. Do not go to the docks, Summer. Stay away!”

“It’s too late.” Summer said, barely putting the car in park before rushing toward the flashing lights. She didn’t even bother to turn the car off or hang up the phone. All she could do was stare at the ambulance blocking her view of the Ocean Explorer, and beg for the person on the stretcher to not be Evan.

20

Someone grabbed Summer’s arm. She heard a scream before realizing it came from her own lungs. Someone else was calling her name. She looked down at the phone long enough to hit the button and silence Aunt Clara’s voice.

Summer jerked her arm away from the person who grabbed her. She didn’t even bother to look back to see who it was or if she should be scared of him.

She was more than scared enough already.

Summer broke out into a full run, nothing but the ambulance and the stretcher in her sights. She tried to make out the shape of a person being wheeled into the back of the ambulance. Was that Evan’s outline? Was that shoe poking out the bottom of the sheet his? Did that groan of pain belong to him?

The last few steps were like trudging through mud or when she tried to run in a dream. She felt like she’d never make it in time. Finally, as she stepped onto the grassy area in front of the pier, she saw his face.

Or rather, someone’s face. Someone who wasn’t Evan.

A sound escaped her throat and she nearly dropped to her knees. But she forced herself to step closer, to watch the unknown man clutching his side as the ambulance doors closed.

With the relief that it wasn’t Evan now flooding her senses, Summer took a second to look around and figure out what happened. There were cop cars and fire trucks and more ambulances surrounding the Ocean Explorer. None of the men in uniforms stood a head taller than the rest, so she knew Brady must be on the boat.

So that was where she went.

A deep voice yelled for her to stop, but he sounded far enough away that she didn’t pay him any mind. She had to get to Evan. Nobody was going to keep her from seeing with her own two eyes that he was alright.

The closer she got, the more it was clear that the action centered around one room below deck. All the cops’ backs were to her as she descended and scanned the crowd. She was looking for Evan and Brady, but only found one.

“Ms. Snow,” Sheriff Brady said as if he’d been waiting for her. He was crouched beside a busted window, his men guarding him, their guns pointed into the small room.

“Where is he?” Summer asked, though she meant it as ‘Is he alive?’ The where was apparent, given the broken glass and general chaos directly in front of her. She was just too scared to look.

Now that she’d arrived, she couldn’t bring herself to see the consequence of her own actions.

Brady clearly had no intention of letting her off the hook. He merely gestured toward the broken glass, then made another hand motion, telling her to get down.

Summer obeyed.

She crouched down beside Brady and took a deep breath before looking into the room.

Evan sat in an office chair in the middle of the room. His back was to her, but she could tell by the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest that he was much calmer than she was right now. An inch from his forehead was a gun. And holding that gun was a terrified looking boy.

“I heard the shot,” Summer said by way of explanation, though maybe it was just to break the eerily calm silence.

“One of his,” Brady replied, as if that explained everything. Then he jerked his head toward a group of crewmen huddling in a corner. “Wrong place wrong time. Kid heard us coming, shot wildly at the window, clipped the guy. Superficial.”

Summer stood up.

Brady yanked her back down. “Stay back!”

“Charlie!” Summer yelled, refusing to sit quietly while Evan had a gun in his face. “Charlie, it’s Summer. Please don’t hurt him.”

“Stay back!” Brady yelled louder.

“Summer!” Charlie called over him. “Let her in!”

Summer pushed past Brady and the other cop, who tried to restrain her. “I’m coming!”

She stood at the broken window, her entire body visible and unguarded as Charlie approached.

Charlie dropped the gun from Evan’s forehead and pointed it at her. Through the splintered glass, Summer got an eerie sense of déjà vu. Only, this time she wasn’t talking to Harding through thick plexiglass. She was about to beg for Evan’s life through a shot out window.

“Why don’t you put that gun down and we can talk?”

“If I put this down, I’m dead.” Charlie’s voice cracked and his finger twitched.

Summer forced herself to not close her eyes. If a shot was coming, she would see it.

“Summer, please…” That was Evan. His breathing had quickened the moment he heard her voice. “Just go. Please.”

Her heart broke for him, but she didn’t respond. If these were their last words to each other, she wouldn’t spend them arguing.

Instead, she looked directly into Charlie’s eyes. “How did you know he was still alive?”

Charlie scoffed and ran his other hand through his hair. With a disgusted shake of his head, he said, “My medicine. I’d almost run out, and I had to call ahead when we got close enough to shore so the pharmacy would have time to get it. Nobody ever stocks it, ya know. But to my surprise, the pharmacist here in this tiny little town, he said he always kept it on hand for one of his patients.” A scowl hardened the boy’s formerly sweet face.

Summer reached out a hand and placed it on the glass.

“I told myself I was imagining things. I mean, it’s a rare allergy, but there had to be a rational explanation. Just a coincidence.”

Summer couldn’t stop the shake of her head. She didn’t believe in coincidences.

Charlie caught it and nodded. “Exactly. I thought it must have been some mistake. Maybe he had amnesia or something. He woke up on shore somewhere and didn’t remember who he was. Who I was. Stupid me, I imagined this emotional reunion.”

He shook whatever thoughts he’d been having out of his head, then continued. “It was perfect. My dad loved fireworks. We always went out together to watch them on the Fourth of July and New Years. And I worked for a cruise ship that did just that! I knew he’d be here. Even if you forget who you are, you’re still you, ya know. That kind of stuff doesn’t change.”

Summer didn’t want to hear the rest, knowing how it must have gone for him to end up killing the man he’d been so excited to see again.

“We stopped going when my mom died, though. That was the only thing that worried me. Maybe he forgot that we used to do it. So I looked everywhere for him. As soon as we docked, I tried to get the pharmacist to tell me where he was. But of course he wasn’t using his real name and I didn’t know what to call him. And patient confidentiality and all that. So I waited.

“Then the day before the cruise, I saw him. He was older, thinner, but it was him. I ran up to him, all ready to remind him of who he was. That I was his son. I was going to show him my medicine to prove-” Charlie patted his pocket as if the medication were in there.

“Everyone said I was crazy, ya know. They tried to convince me he was dead. They said I saw him drown, but I just refused to believe it. But I didn’t see him. And we never found his…him. So I always held out hope that he was alive somewhere. And when I saw him there at the pharmacy, I knew all the waiting and searching was finally going to pay off.

“Until he saw me, too.” He rubbed his hand over his face, getting more agitated.

Summer climbed through the broken window into the room with Evan and the gunman and put her hand on the boy’s shoulder. “It’s alright.”

“He knew! He knew it was me the second our eyes met. And he…he…told me to leave him alone and never contact him again.”

Summer pulled him into a hug. The gun began to droop in his hand like it weighed a ton.

But before she could do anything about it, he jumped back and started gesturing wildly with both hands. The gun’s muzzle pointed everywhere.

“He showed up at the cruise, just like I thought. I watched him laugh and joke and have a perfect life without me. The life I should have had with my dad. All my dreams of us spending New Year’s watching the fireworks like Mom always loved doing flew out the window. Instead, I got to watch him with that woman.” He nearly spat the word.

“Then, when she came in here flirting with all the guys on the crew…She kissed the chef right in front of me! I got so angry. Dad spoiled my mother’s memory for someone who didn’t care about him at all! Everything just came rushing back. I remembered how terrified I was in that boat, all alone for hours. What if I’d jumped in after him? If I’d drowned trying to save him? All these years, I felt guilty for not jumping in after him. And he’d left me!”

Charlie paced the room, gun waving around, staring at nothing as if watching it all unfold in his mind’s eye. “I did it. I switched the soups. I-I didn’t think…I didn’t care if it killed him. What should I care? He was already dead, ya know.” He shrugged.

“How did you keep from getting sick?”

“I didn’t. I’m always so careful, but I was seeing red that night and I just switched his bowl. But this place really does have terrible food safety. I can’t eat or drink anything when I’m on shift because I can’t trust it to not be contaminated. I got a little sick. I was crying when I did it and I rubbed my face with my hands.” He made the same motion again.

This time, he made the gesture with the gun hand. It was pointed at the ceiling.

Summer made eye contact with Evan and lunged at Charlie.

21

Summer tackled Charlie, pushing them closer to Evan’s chair. The gun fell to the floor and Evan kicked it away.

All of a sudden, the door burst open and several strong hands pulled Summer in different directions. Someone pried Charlie from her grip.

“Get them out of here!” Sheriff Brady’s yell broke over the din of chaos and they were gone.

Seconds later, the bright lights of outside joined the swirling lights of several emergency vehicles. Summer tried to shield her eyes but she didn’t have control of her arms.

Someone plopped her down on the back of an ambulance and a blanket appeared around her shoulders before she knew what was happening.

“Wait! Stop! Stop!” Evan sounded close, but she couldn’t see him. There was a struggle and before Summer could turn to see, Evan was at her side. He grabbed her shoulders and looked her over. “Are you OK?”

Though she relished the comfort of his touch, fight or flight was still coursing through her and she shrugged him off. “Of course. I told you I don’t need a man to save me. And actually…I think I saved you.”

“I kicked the gun!”

“Only after I tackled him. After I came to rescue you in the first place.”

Evan opened his mouth to argue some more, but seemed to remember that he was worried about her. He wiped a finger across her cheek and it came back red. “You’re bleeding.”

Summer raised her hand to her cheek and touched the cut. Then, as if seeing the blood signaled her body to sound the alarm, she felt it and every bit of pain in her entire body. She looked herself over.

“Please be still,” the paramedic said, re-wrapping the blanket around her shoulders.

She hadn’t even noticed him. All she saw was Evan.

“I warned you to stay away from me. I told you it was dangerous.”

Evan threw his head back. “Not from a kid with a gun! That doesn’t count.”

“I had to come running in and save your butt! That counts.”

“No, you didn’t have to.” That irritated, deep voice came from her left. Brady sauntered up, looking every bit the John Wayne character he tried so hard to portray.

Not bothering to dignify that with a response, Summer asked, “Did you hear anything about Vanessa?”

Though this particular emergency didn’t involve DeVilla, she knew she wasn’t out of the woods yet. Evan was safe, but Vanessa still wasn’t.

Brady’s John Wayne persona faltered and his expression turned sour. “I’m sorry, kid.”

Summer’s heart stopped.

“Her place was ransacked. There was no sign of her. I started the ball rolling on a Missing and Endangered Persons report.”

Evan squeezed Summer’s hand as she slumped. Every bit of fight drained out of her. “DeVilla,” she whispered.

“Yeah, that’s my bet, too. Sorry, kid. I should have taken you seriously sooner.”

Summer didn’t have it in her to tell him just how right he was. “What can I do to help?”

Brady looked down at her, then nodded, with the paramedic tending to her cuts, then back at her. “Go home and behave for a change.”

As if on cue, Aunt Clara and Carl showed up. “I’ll make sure of that,” Aunt Clara said with a loving glare in Summer’s direction. “Let’s go. I’ve got soup in the crock pot. You’re not getting out of my sight for at least a week.”

The paramedic tapped her on the back to let her know she was free to go. Aunt Clara took the hand that wasn’t being held by Evan.

“I’m fine,” Summer argued. She looked over her shoulder at the paramedic. “Right?”

He nodded.

“I’m going with Evan.”

Aunt Clara bit her cheek but couldn’t hide her smile.

Evan and Carl exchanged protective looks over the top of Summer’s head.

Summer groaned and climbed down from the ambulance. “Seriously?” she said as she walked off. “I saved you!”

In the safety of Evan’s car, as soon as they pulled out of the parking lot, Summer’s resolve broke down. Tears streamed down her cheeks and her body began to shake.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.” She inspected Evan, realizing he never got checked because he was too busy worrying over her. “Are you alright?”

“I’m good, Summer. Promise. You took all the glass and the tumble.” He picked something she assumed was glass out of her hair.

“You were right. I should leave. I can’t stop. I came here to live a quiet life and I messed it all up. Vanessa’s in danger. I put you in danger.”

“I put myself in danger.” Summer was about to argue when he shook his head. “I put myself in trouble,” he repeated. “His boss told me-”

“You went without me?” Summer forgot her tears.

“Will you let me tell you?”

She made a lip zipping motion and folded her arms.

“I talked to the captain and they said they were very careful with the food protocols, especially with meat contamination because Charlie was allergic.”

Summer gasped, though she knew all of this information.

“So I went to confront him…or talk…I don’t know. But I went in without a plan, just like someone I know.” He gave her a wink.

“I have a plan…most of the time.”

“Mmhmm.”

“But still.” Dread came over Summer and her voice lowered. “If I hadn’t insisted on investigating this death, none of it would have happened. And if I’d stayed out of the spotlight, DeVilla’s men wouldn’t know where I was. They wouldn’t have felt the need to grab Vanessa. I need to go. I need to start over again somewhere new and stop endangering the people I care about.”

A smile spread across Evan’s face.

Summer’s chest hurt worse. He was happy she was leaving.

Then the smile widens even further. “People you care about?”

“Ugh, I’d hit you but my arm hurts.” She glanced down at the bandage and her torn shirt, then at all the blood covering her. “Oh, wow.”

Evan looked her over, his eyes widening at the state of her clothes.

“I never got my stuff from my apartment because we found those pictures.” Summer groaned. “I’m so gross.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got a Dartmouth shirt with your name on it,” he teased.

“No. I mean, yes. I’d like that. But I want my own clothes.”

“You sure?”

Summer nodded. Then it was her turn to grin. “While I’ve got my big, strong protector with me.”

Evan turned the car toward her apartment building. “I know you’re teasing, but I don’t care. At least you finally admitted it.”

“Just drive,” she said with a smile.

On the way, Summer texted Alex, ‘We’re both alive. I’ll tell you when I get home. Can you have Barney waiting? I need some cuddles’

The response was swift. ‘Will do! And I’ve got something even better waiting for you’

‘What?’

‘It’s a surprise!’

A few minutes later, they arrived at the apartment building and, true to her word, Alex had Barney and Betty waiting just outside the door.

Summer barely let the car come to a stop before jumping out and running to them. She sat in the middle of the walkway and let Barney and Betty cover her in kisses.

When they’d all had their fill, Summer dragged herself to her feet. “Thank you. I need to get inside and change. But first…what’s my surprise?”

“I am!” a familiar voice said from behind Alex.

22

Vanessa came bursting through the door, arms raised for a hug, and looking every bit alive and well.

“Vanessa!” Summer’s scream was a mix of shock and relief and anger. “I thought you were dead!”

“I was trying to surprise you. I didn’t know you were gonna call the cops on me!”

“They said your place was ransacked!”

Vanessa balked. “Ransacked is a rather strong word.”

“There’s a missing person’s report on you,” Summer whispered.

“Really? OMG! Do you think I’ll be on the news?”

Summer grabbed her friend in a hug. “You went radio silent. All your socials. How could I not think you were dead?”

Vanessa pulled away. “Summer! I told you to download Ryng months ago. That’s where all the cool kids are now.”

“Good thing I’m neither of those.” Summer gave Vanessa another squeeze to make sure she was really there and really alright. “So I suppose you met Alex.”

“Yes! And the puppies! Summer, they’re so adorable!”

“How did you…I just moved here.” Not that it mattered much. DeVilla’s goon found her, so why couldn’t Vanessa?

“You really need to learn how to turn off your metadata,” Vanessa said with a shrug that told Summer she should know what that was.

“Right,” she replied.

Then a wide grin erupted on Vanessa’s face and the sparkle in her eyes could only mean one thing. “This must be Evan.” She reached out to shake his hand. “You said he was handsome, but wow.”

Summer elbowed her friend, but it was too late.

“How handsome?” Evan asked.

“I believe her exact words were-”

Summer gave her a harder elbow, because she remembered her exact words and there was no way she’d let Vanessa tell Evan.

They winked at each other and Summer knew that conversation would happen at some point, whether she liked it or not.

“So, I heard you got yourself shot at? Maybe I should be the one worrying about you.” Vanessa turned her attention back to Summer and the blood covering her.

“I wouldn’t say shot at. Shots happened and I was in the vicinity.” An intense heat came over Summer. She didn’t know if it was a blush from all the attention or the reality of nearly being killed finally hitting her.

“Tell me everything!”

They all went upstairs and Summer regaled them with the retelling of the oldest story in the book.

“So, the dad faked his death and the son searched for him his whole life until…”

After telling Vanessa everything that happened with the case and the break in, neither of them felt comfortable in the apartment. She called the Manor House Inn to see if there was a room available, and Cindy answered with her usual cheery, “Yes!”

They gathered a few things, including Barney, who was reluctant to leave Betty but nosey enough to not want to miss whatever was happening.

Evan, who had stuck around long enough to see that Summer got settled, drove them to the Inn and asked if they wanted him to bring back some food. They both said, “Pizza!” immediately.

Summer had been kicking herself for never knowing where Aunt Clara’s yellow punch buggy was. She’d lived so long without a car, she had to get used to having one again. But sometimes that miscalculation worked in her favor, like now.

She had her oldest friend in the world with her, and a hot guy delivering her a pizza in thirty minutes or less. She texted him, ‘And ice cream??????’

His response was swift. ‘Wasn’t I the one held at gunpoint?’ But it was followed by a bunch of smiley faces and an ice cream cone emoji.

Summer smiled. ‘Dunno. I’m the one with bandages’

Thirty-one minutes later, they were in their cozy double room with pizza, ice cream, and a puppy who couldn’t decide which bed was his.

“I think you’ve got yourself a keeper,” Vanessa said through a mouthful of pizza.

Summer patted Barney in the brief moment he’d jumped back on her bed. “Yeah, I lucked out. I’m so glad I saw him on that corner.”

Vanessa laughed and nearly choked on her pizza. “I was talking about the delivery guy.”

Summer blushed. “We’ll see.”

“Girl, if you don’t do something about that, I’m moving to Spring Harbor and you’ll be coming to our wedding.”

“Am I at least the Maid of Honor?”

“We’ll see.”

Summer put her slice down and got serious for a moment. “I think it’s too dangerous to be with someone right now.” Even though Vanessa hadn’t been kidnapped, Evan had nearly gotten himself shot because of her. Her inability to let go of the mystery was a danger to them all.

“And what was your excuse before?”

“Work. And danger.” Summer waved her hand at the room. “Look around you.”

Vanessa gestured toward the box of pizza on the counter. “Looks pretty good right now.”

Summer picked at the bandage on her arm. “Celebrating our survival.”

“What do you think will happen to the guy?”

That was the question she hadn’t wanted to think about, even more than what would come next for Evan and her. Charlie Owens ruined his life by killing his father with the contaminated soup. But his father had ruined it long before that by forcing his son to watch him ‘drown’ as a kid. She knew what he did was wrong, but this case felt full of gray areas.

“I don’t know,” she finally said. “This one isn’t like DeVilla. He’s clearly a bad guy and needs to be caught, but Charlie...”

“He was,” Vanessa cut in calmly, as if she hadn’t just said the two most earth-shattering words.

“He what?”

“Yeah.” Vanessa pulled out her phone and showed Summer a long line of social media posts about DeVilla. “You really need to get on the apps.”

Summer grabbed Vanessa’s phone. The first link she clicked opened with, ‘After several months on the run, notorious lawyer to the mob, Stefan DeVilla, was apprehended on a flight to California this evening…’

“California,” Summer whispered.

“I know, right? Good thing I got an early flight or we might have been on the same plane.”

The thought of DeVilla being that close to her, getting caught literally on the plane to very obviously come kill her, made Summer’s entire body sweat.

“Hey! He’s caught.” Vanessa reached over and patted Summer’s hand.

Barney, who must have sensed the shift in the mood, came over to snuggle in her lap.

“You’re right. I never thought this day would come.”

“But now that it has, what will you do next? You ready to get that Beesley Twin out of your shop and make a life for yourself here?”

Summer winced. She’d forgotten how different her first impression of Mrs. Beesley had been. “Actually, yeah. I’m ready to put that behind me and start my life. But I think it’s time to renegotiate my contract with my business partner.”

Now that Summer was free from her past, it was time for Mrs. Beesley to be free from her future.

The End

The next book in the series, Killing Off Loose Ends, is OUT NOW! Click here to get your copy.

FREE PREQUEL: Discover how Meghan Truman’s journey to become the most popular baker in the Pacific Northwest began in this prequel story.

Sign up to my newsletter and get Showbiz Cakes and Deadly Slices, the prequel story to the Sandy Bay series, written under my Amber Crewes penname, for FREE only at ambercrewes.com/cozylist

Thank You!

Thank you for reading Snip Once, Die Twice. I really hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I had writing it!

If you have a minute, please consider leaving a review on the retail site where you purchased it.

It doesn’t matter how long or short it is as other cozy mystery readers will find value in what you liked about this book.

Many thanks in advance for your support!

Killing Off Loose Ends

Killing Off Loose Ends Sneak Peek

Summer stretched her fingers and spun Mrs. Walters around in the chair. Her upstairs neighbor had been a regular at the salon before Summer came along, but it had taken quite a lot of prodding to get her in the door after all the changes. But now, with her new cut and modest color, she beamed at her reflection. “I look like I’m fifty again,” she said, touching the edges of her soft bob.

“Forty-nine if you’re a day,” Summer replied with a smile.

This was her happy place. She could think of nothing better than spending her days at the salon, cutting and styling hair for the residents of Spring Harbor, many of whom were now some of her dearest friends.

Not to mention the fact that it had been two whole months with no drama bigger than the rumor that someone’s husband ran off with the babysitter. Nobody had died in that incident…yet. And the town had settled into a nice, quiet rhythm. Summer was busy as a bee, now that all the hubbub over Aunt Clara’s daring hairstyles had brought in so many new customers.

Summer welcomed the calm.

Still, she couldn’t stop herself from feeling that itch for excitement. Part of her needed to be out there chasing clues and figuring out puzzles. Her fingers twitched in anticipation of holding the next piece of evidence in her hand.

“How much do I owe you?” Mrs. Walters asked, bringing Summer out of her revelry.

Mrs. Walters never asked for a penny when she watched Barney and Betty for her and Alex, so she couldn’t turn around and ask the sweet older woman for payment. Instead, she said, “Consider it me catching up on all that babysitting I owe you for.”

“Nonsense.” Mrs. Walters waved her away. “Those babies keep me young. I should be paying you.” Then she spun in her chair and caught Mrs. Beesley’s eye. “Gertie, how much?”

Mrs. Beesley had no qualms about giving the woman a price.

Mrs. Walters hopped out of Summer’s chair and went over to gossip with Mrs. Beesley before leaving. The sight made Summer smile…and think about Alex.

‘How’s the sock world treating you today?’ Summer texted her new best friend while cleaning her work station.

Alex and Evan were glad things had been quiet on the murder front, a fact they both made sure to remind her of often. Summer knew they just cared about her and wanted to keep her safe, but part of her yearned for adventure.

The only person she could share that side of her with now was Aunt Clara. And she’d been gone on a beach trip with Carl for the past two weeks.

‘We still on for this afternoon?’ Summer texted her aunt.

All she got in return was a thumbs up and a sideways smiley face with its tongue sticking out. She wasn’t sure who taught Aunt Clara emojis but this needed to stop.

Mrs. Beesley walked over to stuff some bills into Summer’s tip jar. “Glad you convinced her to come back. I saw her at our bridge game Saturday and it was all I could do to not say something.”

Summer smiled. “I’m very proud of you.”

“Oh hush,” Mrs. Beesley said with a blushing grin.

They both turned toward the front of the shop, as if knowing instinctively what this conversation was really about. “How do you think she’s doing?” Summer asked, folding her arms and watching the new hire finish up a chunky perm.

Misty Peaks—with a name like that, how could Summer not hire her—had just graduated from the cosmetology school in the next town over. She was young, energetic, and had a knack for all the new hair coloring options the younger generation liked. Summer nearly laughed at herself for calling a girl barely five years her junior ‘the younger generation,’ but sometimes she felt more like Mrs. Beesley and Aunt Clara than Tillie and Misty.

Maybe it was the responsibility of co-owning the salon.

Or maybe it was all the things she’d seen in her short life.

Whatever the cause, Summer felt it keenly.

“Kids seem to like her,” Mrs. Beesley said with a nod toward the waiting area.

These ‘kids’ were probably sixteen or older, but Summer didn’t correct her partner. It was true, word had gotten out that Misty was working at their salon and the younger crowd seemed to flock to her. It had only been a week and Summer was already re-ordering some of the more daring hair colors. Misty herself had one half of her hair dyed pure black, and the other a vibrant light blue that brought out her eyes.

She also matched well with the new shades Summer had purchased for the windows along the back wall. They were just enough to keep out the harshest mid-day sun without losing any of the gorgeous lighting.

The salon was beginning to look more like Summer’s vision for it, and Mrs. Beesley seemed more at ease with all the changes than she could have ever expected. There was only one point of contention left. “The sign guy called again…”

Mrs. Beesley stiffened. While she embraced the new cashflow coming in from Summer’s quirky hairstyles and Misty’s ‘kids,’ she wasn’t quite ready to part with her old salon name. Though, ‘Salon on Main’ didn’t seem the type of name one would get overly attached to.

Summer had been working the name ‘Mane Street’ into conversations lately, but it wasn’t winning Mrs. Beesley over.

They’d also discussed ‘My Hair Lady,’ ‘Headcase,’ and ‘The Cutting Room,’ which didn’t seem to tick Mrs. Beesley’s fancy.

Early on, Summer had really been pushing ‘To Dye For,’ but that one had been met with a resounding no.

Summer took a picture of some of the new branding and sent it to Vanessa. The response was quick. A string of hearts and kisses, followed by, ‘Not kidnapped!’

Summer groaned, but still smiled.

The smile faded when Mrs. Beesley’s sister, Ramona, came barging in. She ushered Mrs. Beesley to the back room and slammed the door.

Nearly an hour passed with the Beesley Twins locked in the back room. Summer’s imagination couldn’t help but think something big was happening. The longer she went on without knowing what, the more she desperately wanted to press her ear to the door and find out.

After her last client of the day, Summer began wrapping up her things to get ready for her visit with Aunt Clara. They’d definitely have something to talk about now.

The bell above the door signaled a late arrival, and Summer spun around to greet the customer with a smile.

From the looks of the tall, thin, balding man pulling a rolling suitcase, Summer knew all too well this was no customer. Though she’d never met the man, she could spot a door-to-door salesman from a mile away.

Misty, who happened to be closest to the door, moved to block his entrance. He pushed past her as if she wasn’t even there.

Summer stepped up and greeted the man as close to the exit as she could. “Hi, may I help you?”

“I’m looking for the owner,” he said, rather dismissively.

“I’m the owner.”

The man looked Summer over and frowned, then turned on his salesman’s charm. “Ah, lovely. The name’s Bundy. Solomon Bundy. I’m the owner of Solutions, a hair care company based out of Hollywood.” His smile widened, revealing blinding white teeth. “We have this new product that’s just coming to market for our spring catalog, and I thought I’d swing by and give you a demonstration.”

The man had somehow already pulled a clear spray bottle out of his case before Summer’s mind could register what was happening. She’d been stuck on one thing for his entire spiel.

Bundy?

She blinked as he began spraying the stuff in the bottle on his arm and in his mouth. She hardly heard the words he was saying during all of this.

Bundy?

Her mind instantly went to a million different but equally morbid places. All of which landed on the same conclusion. When the next murder happened in Spring Harbor, Summer had her killer.

“This one here cures split ends. Just a couple spritzes in the morning and you’re right as rain.” He sprayed his own hair and pulled the obvious comb-over out of its position to show Summer the ends. “Non-toxic, all natural. You could drink it if you wanted.” Again, he sprayed his mouth and arm with the solution, then rubbed it in and made a loud gulping sound to prove he’d, in fact, drank it.

Tillie gave Summer a look that said, ‘Get this guy out of here.’ She’d clearly dealt with him before.

As if on cue, Mrs. Beesley and Ramona came out of the back room with serious expressions. Mrs. Beesley saw what was going on and whispered just loud enough for Summer—or maybe everyone—to hear, “Spring brings the bugs back around.”

The next thing Summer knew, Misty had stepped up between her and the definite serial killer. “Get out!” She pointed at the door and grabbed the handle of Mr. Bundy’s rolling suitcase.

He fumbled to take it from her and flashed everyone another disarmingly bright smile.

“Get out of here and never come back! And take your snake oil with you!” Misty yanked on the handle, sending the suitcase gliding across the floor. Mr. Bundy was close behind it, but not before dropping a sample bottle on the small end table by the door.

When the door slammed behind him, Misty looked back at all their shocked faces.

“Sorry guys, I’ve had to deal with him for the past three years at school. I thought I was rid of him after moving all the way out here.”

Summer frowned and patted Misty on the back, because she knew exactly how that felt. The part of her own past that she thought she’d left behind always seemed to find her at the worst possible time.

Click here to find out what happens next in Killing Off Loose Ends, the 4th book in the Spring Harbor Cozy Mystery Series!

Also By Amber Crewes

The Sandy Bay Cozy Mystery Series

Apple Pie and Trouble (Book 1)

OUT NOW

Brownies and Dark Shadows (Book 2)

OUT NOW

Cookies and Buried Secrets (Book 3)

OUT NOW

Donuts and Disaster (Book 4)

OUT NOW

Éclairs and Lethal Layers (Book 5)

OUT NOW

Finger Foods and Missing Legs (Book 6)

OUT NOW

Gingerbread and Scary Endings (Book 7)

OUT NOW

Hot Chocolate and Cold Bodies (Book 8)

OUT NOW

Ice Cream and Guilty Pleasures (Book 9)

OUT NOW

Jingle Bells and Deadly Smells (Book 10)

OUT NOW

King Cake and Grave Mistakes (Book 11)

OUT NOW

Lemon Tarts and Fiery Darts (Book 12)

OUT NOW

Muffins and Coffins (Book 13)

OUT NOW

Nuts and a Choking Corpse (Book 14)

OUT NOW

Orange Mousse and a Fatal Truce (Book 15)

OUT NOW

Peaches and Crime (Book 16)

OUT NOW

Queen Tarts and a Christmas Nightmare (Book 17)

OUT NOW

Rhubarb Pie and Revenge (Book 18)

OUT NOW

Slaughter of the Wedding Cake (Book 19)

OUT NOW

Tiramisu and Terror (Book 20)

OUT NOW

Urchins and Deadly Dishes (Book 21)

OUT NOW

Velvet Cake and Murder (Book 22)

OUT NOW

Whoopie Pies and Deadly Lies (Book 23)

OUT NOW

Xylose Treats and Killer Sweets (Book 24)

OUT NOW

Yummy Pies and Someone Dies (Book 25)

OUT NOW

Zucchini Chips and Poisoned Lips (Book 26)

OUT NOW

The Spring Harbor Cozy Mystery Series

Hair Today, Dead Tomorrow (Book 1)

OUT NOW

A Short Cut to Murder (Book 2)

OUT NOW

Snip Once, Die Twice

OUT NOW

Killing Off Loose Ends

OUT NOW

Bangs, Bullies and Betrayal

COMING SOON

A Grim Trim in a Gym

COMING SOON

Permed to Deadly Perfection

COMING SOON

Curl Up and Die

COMING SOON

A Hairy Scary Christmas

COMING SOON

A Blonde that Didn’t Respond

COMING SOON

THANK YOU FOR GETTING THIS BOOK IN THE SPRING HARBOR COZY MYSTERY SERIES. WHY DON’T YOU SIGN UP FOR UPDATES AND I’D LOVE TO SEND YOU THE PREQUEL STORY TO MY OTHER BESTSELLING SERIES FOR FREE

Click Here to Receive Updates and the Prequel