Murder by the Seashore by Samara Yew

Author:Samara Yew [Yew, Samara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CROOKED LANE BOOKS

Chapter Eighteen

“I’m still leaning toward no on Evelyn being the killer,” Lucia said while I finished serving the chicken stir-fry I’d made for dinner that night with the fresh vegetables Lucia had bought at the farmers’ market.

“What made you think of that?” We’d been pretty quiet in the kitchen while I cooked, and she washed the breakfast dishes we’d never gotten around to during the day.

“I was thinking about the farmers’ market today with Jules and the new apron she bought from one of the craft booths.”

“Uh-huh.” I had no idea where she was going with this.

“There was this adorable yellow-and-white-striped picnic blanket I was thinking of getting but ultimately decided against, since we already have so many picnic and beach blankets.”

“Not sure where you’re going with this.” I grabbed cutlery from the drawer.

“And then I thought about how one of those beach blankets is that nice teal-and-purple one Evelyn gave you for your birthday in January, even though she’d only been your employee for, what? A few days?”

I nodded. I’d hired Evelyn about a week before my birthday, right after Connor left. Another point proving Connor to be a loser: he’d dumped me so close to my birthday. “That was nice of her. It’s one of my favorite beach blankets.”

“That’s exactly my point.”

“What is? The beach blanket?”

“No. That Evelyn is really nice. Why would she buy you a birthday present when she had no obligation to, then turn around and frame you for murder four months later?”

Lucia had a point, but something was still bugging me. I didn’t want to believe it—I really didn’t want to believe it—but I had a gut feeling Evelyn was involved somehow. She might not have been the one to murder Lorelai, but maybe she was connected to whoever did.

“Hey, speaking of beach blankets.” I remembered my idea from earlier. “Do you want to spend an evening at the beach sometime? We live so close but rarely go together.”

“Sure.” My roommate beamed. “Sounds like fun. Does tomorrow work? It looks like I’m going to have to work lots of late evenings this upcoming week, so it might be my only chance to relax for a while.”

“Perfect for me. Do you want to meet me there around six thirty after the shop closes?”

“Sounds good.”

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