Page 58 of Fish and Chip

“Anyone in particular?” I ask.

“Lots of people. I made a point of being memorable.” Her smile is all teeth now, a shark in leopard accents. “Because I’m not stupid enough to murder someone without establishing an alibi first. If I were going to kill Belladonna—which I didn’t—I’d have been smart about it. And you would certainly never be able to pin it on me. I’d make sure I set someone else up to take the fall.”

“That’s not exactly reassuring,” I say.

“It wasn’t meant to be. It was meant to be honest.” Gertie starts back toward the event area, heels clicking against the fake stone path. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a panel to finish. Part two is all about making murder look like an accident, and I’d hate to miss my own presentation.”

Of course it is. And I’m sure the timing is a complete coincidence, along with everything else about this woman.

She walks away, leaving Dexter and me standing under the rope bridge.

“Well?” Dexter asks. “What do you think?”

“I think she’s either innocent and enjoying messing with us, or guilty and very good at it.”

“That’s not helpful.”

“Welcome to my brain.” I start walking back toward the event area. “But she did tell us one useful thing.”

“Which is?”

“Belladonna had dirt on other people. People with bigger secrets than embezzlement.”

“Like plagiarism?” Dexter suggests.

“You’re good,” I tell him. “And why do I get the feeling you’re already one step ahead of me?”

He blinks, then smiles.

“Maybe it is plagiarism.” I shrug. “Or something else entirely. Something we haven’t figured out yet.”

He falls into step beside me. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Would you?”

“No. But I’m paid to not let things go. You’re just naturally stubborn.”

“I prefer ‘committed to justice.’”

“I prefer ‘pain in my caseload,’ but we can agree to disagree.”

I grin despite myself. “You say the sweetest things.”

“I try.” He reaches over and takes my hand.

My brain short-circuits for approximately three seconds.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“I’m fine. Just wondering if a rope bridge counts the same as mistletoe.”

He pulls me in and kisses me, right there on the path, and my brain short-circuits all over again.

I pull back, dizzy, as I bite down on a smile. “For the record, I’m also thinking a lot about murder.”

“Romantic.”

“That’s me. Romance and homicide, all day every day.”