Page 28 of No One Was Supposed to Die at This Wedding

He gives me that half smile again. “I learned it from you.”

“How?”

“The Vacation Mysteries? Our literary adventures?”

“You read the books?”

“Of course I read them.”

Okay, interesting.

I’m not sure why, but I always assumed he didn’t read the books. Not since he read a galley ofWhen in Romeand discovered he could blackmail me for using his name without his permission.

But that’s all behind us, I guess. He isn’t in my newest book contract. It was part of what we’d agreed to in Italy.

It doesn’t make us friends.

“I thought that film cost one hundred and fifty to make?” I say.

It was all anyone talked about in the press surrounding its failure.

“It sold well overseas—I don’t quite understand the accounting. But twenty million is a hefty sum.”

“For you and me, yeah. But Fred should be good for it. Hasn’t he been paid millions per picture for years? Or did he buy some island in the South Pacific I didn’t know about?”30

“As I said, I haven’t been investigating long. Perhaps he’s simply withholding payment for some other reason.”

“Such as?”

“Emma.” He takes a step closer. “A jealous man can make irrational decisions.”

Our eyes lock and I wonder what exactly he means. That’s one of the (many) problems with Connor. He speaks in riddles and ellipses, and it’s exhausting trying to puzzle it all out.

Also, we’ve been looking at each other for way too long.

I pull my eyes away and watch the waves beat against the boat.

We’re approaching the port in Avalon, a half-moon bay with a steeply rising mountain behind it covered in lush greenery. Candy-colored buildings climb the mountainside in a way that reminds me of the Amalfi Coast. But because of the name, I can’t help but think of the mists of Avalon, that made-up place in Camelot.

But wait...King Arthur and Guinevere—an epic marriage that ended badly because the bride was in love with another man.

Oh dear.

I think about the note Emma received yesterday.

Is life imitating art?

“Would Tyler make threats?” I ask. “Is he that angry about the money?”

“Do you know something?”

“I’m just speculating.” The boat bumps up and down again. I’m glad this ride is almost over. “We’re here. We should get ready to disembark.”

“Don’t say anything to Emma,” Connor says.

“I won’t.”

“Eleanor...”

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