Marzipan and Murder by Rosie A Point

Author:Rosie A Point [Point, Rosie A]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-10-25T16:00:00+00:00

13

“If that’s not a hit piece of an article, I’ve never seen one,” Bee said, her legs crossed and one of her fluffy bunny-ear slippers dangling from the tips of her toes. “Seriously. How were we involved in the last murder? That makes it sounds like we should be charged for it, not like we helped solve it.”

It was after dinner, and I had tactfully avoided talking about our run-in with the bearded guy earlier. There were more important things to discuss. Like Richard’s walking routes, the article, and the victim herself.

“But it’s interesting, don’t you think?” I lifted my mug of coffee and took a sip. “What they said about the struggle. If only we knew who she had struggled with. From what we’ve heard, she wasn’t well-liked.”

“Hmmm, true.” Bee folded the paper and tossed it aside, lifting her mug to her lips after. “Here’s our problem,” she said, “we don’t know enough about the victim to warrant a true suspect list. We know that Richard and Jessie were fighting. Richard had motivation. William has been absolutely silent for days, and Jessie is visibly distraught. Those are our only suspects.”

“And the wedding organizer.

“Right. But if Honey was so hated, there might be suspects we’re missing.”

I smacked my lips, thinking it over. Trouble poked his head around the bathroom door and meowed at me. He had a knack for squeezing through nooks and crannies, as most cats did. Even when I was sure I’d closed every window, he still found a way into my room, and thus Bee’s too, since they were connected by a shared bathroom.

“Here, Trouble,” I said.

“Oh, well, now you’re just asking for it.” Bee laughed.

Trouble hopped onto the arm of the chair, and I stroked him, eliciting a few purrs and a scratch.

“Let’s research Honey,” I said. “I’ve heard twice now that she’s an Instagram model. She can’t be too hard to find online. Maybe we’ll find articles about her or more information that could lead us to a suspect.”

“Good idea.”

I brought out my phone and shifted to the chair next to Bee’s so she’d be able to see my screen. It took about two seconds of searching to find Honey’s account and the countless photos that skirted the line of inappropriate.

“Good heavens,” Bee said, shading her eyes. “I’m not a prude, but that’s just… is that a flesh-colored bikini?”

“Let’s hope so,” I replied, skipping through the images. I frowned, slowing as I scrolled upward again. One of the most recent pictures, right at the top of her profile, was different from the others. “What’s this?”

“Do I want to know? Is it a flesh-colored dress?”

“No,” I said, “and I believe the correct term is ‘nude.’”

“That’s serendipitous. Or ironic. I can’t decide which.”

“It’s one of these open letter posts,” I said, clicking on the image. It was basically a block of text that Honey had written up on her notepad. She’d snapped a screenshot of it and uploaded it for her followers to view. “Don’t worry, you can look.

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