Page 115 of No One Was Supposed to Die at This Wedding

“My fault, I’m afraid.”

“And then we found him in the basement. In the furnace room.”

“So the wedding was back on.”

“And then the rehearsal dinner was canceled.”

“Because of the cat almost dying!”

“No, the cat was at lunch.”

“Right, right.”

“So we all went to bed, and then, this morning, we played tennis.”

“First there was your fight with Tyler on the docks.”

“Ah, yes. He was attempting to blackmail me. Well, not blackmail exactly, but I owe him money and he was making threats. Saying he would tell the press about it.”

“He said he’d kill you, didn’t he?”

“Yes, yes, he did.”

“So, Tyler left, and then we went to tennis.”

“And we were winning—”

“Connor was making terrible calls.”

“We won fair and square.”

“Think that if you want to.”

“And then we came to do the ropes course and Eleanor saw the body after she and Oliver fell.”

“It was awful.”

“And then the hotel manager left to take a call and we decided to investigate. Not sure itwasEleanor who suggested it. Maybe it was Connor?”

“I say, throwing me under the bus like that.”

“And then Eleanor had José’s number—you’ll want to ask her about that—and she rang it and rang it and then she found the phone.”

“And then she was looking at the phone and then you arrived and said ‘Hands up.’”

Officer Anderson’s head is swerving from left to right and back to front trying to follow all of us as we download what happened over the last twenty-four hours.

“What is Mr. Houston’s connection to the victim?” Officer Anderson asks.

“We’re not sure,” I say. “But they could’ve been working together. That’s why I was checking his phone—to see if they’d had any contact.”

Officer Anderson fishes the phone out of her pouch. She puts on a pair of latex gloves, then takes the phone out of the evidence bag.

I tell her the code.

“Not very original.”

“Right?”

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