Page 188 of No One Was Supposed to Die at This Wedding

“I can’t figure out how the cat plays into all of this,” Oliver says.

“Maybe Fred put something in his mother’s food to make it taste bad?”

“Why, though?”

“Was he...trying to kill his mother? Who inherits when she dies? God, I didn’t even think of that.” I bite my lip. “Or it could have just been to create generalized suspicion? To feed the narrative that there was a killer out there to divert suspicion away from Fred?”

“Is that what the electrocution was?”

“It must’ve been...because that wasbeforethe wedding...If Emma died then, Fred wouldn’t inherit anything, right? Wait, no. That’s not right. Emma said they had already changed their wills...when they went to sign the prenup. So it didn’t matter when Emma died. Only that she did. Ugh.”

Oliver frowns. “You really want to write this?”

“What if we write it together?”

“Is this a pity invite?”

“It’s a love invite. I want to be tied to you forever.”

“Like Connor?”

I wince, but I deserve that. I take a step toward him and wind my arms around his neck. “No, not like that. Not like that at all.”

“Vicki isn’t expecting a book from two of us.”

“She’ll get over it. Besides, she’ll be busy editingConnor.”

“I didnotsee that coming.”

“Right?” I kiss him. “So, what do we call it?”

“How aboutI Went to Hollywood and All I Got Was This Lousy Murder?”

“Um, we’ll work on that. But we make a good team.”

He pulls me closer. “We do.”

“So you’ll do it?”

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I thought we promised we’d never say that to each other again?”

He smiles. “I’m feeling reckless.”

“I’ll say.”

“I will promise you one thing.”

“Oh, yeah?”

He brushes his lips against mine. “The ending will surprise you.”

I kiss him back. “Good.”

And if this were some other kind of book, I’d cue the rising music—maybe “Sweet Nothing” because there’s a perfect Taylor song for every moment—and we’d end it here, me and Oliver in a clinch.

But it’sthiskind of book.

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