Page 107 of No One Was Supposed to Die at This Wedding

Oh, shit.

We’rebantering.

I can feel Oliver stiffening beside me, but I can’t seem to make it stop.

“I, for one, think Tyler is behind this,” Fred says.

“How?”

“I saw him on the dock this morning. He was getting ready to take the last ferry before the body was discovered. That’s suspicious, isn’t it?”

“We don’t even know what time José died,” Allison points out.

“Well, no, but it has to be Tyler.”

“Why?” Oliver asks.

“Because of what happened yesterday. How else would José have gotten my number?”

“You mean yoursecondnumber?” Connor says.

Fred glances at Emma, the two bright spots on his cheeks betraying his mistake.

But this confirms something I assumed before.

Fred only gave that number to a few people—Tyler and whoeverhe was meeting up with. So the list of people who could’ve given it to José is small.

But wait. Connor’s on it, too.Hehad Fred’s number.

“Fred,” I say, “what’s going on with you and Tyler? All of it. Someone’s dead. It’s not time to keep secrets anymore.”

Fred runs his hands through his hair, which is a classic stalling tactic.

But then Emma puts her hand on his waist and stares into his eyes. “It’s okay, Fred. You can tell me. You can tell us. Whatever it is, I love you.”

And now, finally, Fred looks vulnerable. “I’m broke.”

“Seriously?” I say.

“How?” Harper says. “You’ve made so much money.”

“You don’t understand. All you see is the big numbers they announce in the trades, but it’s not like that in real life. My agent and manager and lawyer—they take 25 percent right off the top. And then there’s taxes. That’s another 50 percent.”

His math is wrong, but now’s not the time to point that out.

Or that 25 percent of $20 million is still $5 million.

A picture!

He’s madeten.

“And then there’s all the expenses no one tells you about—a money manager and the glam squad and having to travel in a private jet because you can’t go commercial anymore, and so it makes sense to have your own jet, or at least time-share in one. And someone else convinces you that you should buy this enormous house that costs a fortune to run and you need actualservantsto do it, and the taxes are nuts, and so then you have to take roles just to pay for all these things you didn’t even want in the first place.”

“So that’s how you lost your money? Overspending?”

“I’m getting to that. So yeah, I had all that going on, but it was fine, I was managing, and then I started going to Vegas with some guys who are big gamblers, and I got into some situations that weren’t good. But I did stop. I stopped like I told you, Emma, I promise. But now the government’s saying I owe them some insane amount of money in back taxes that I don’t have, and they’re going to take the house.”

I sigh. No point in counting up all the money he’s blown through. It’s not like it’s mine.

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