Page 61 of Romance Is Dead

“Quinn!” Mara rushed over, her hair falling out of its vintage twist. “Quinn, that was supposed to be yours!” She clutched me against her and I felt a surge of affection for her so strong it nearly took my breath away.

“I know.” I pulled away, still shaky. “Teddy and I were just leaving. Will you be at the hotel later?”

“Wait, where are you going?” She glanced from Teddy to me, eyes wide.

“I just. . . need to lie down. I’m really shaken up.”

Mara nodded. “Yes, yes, of course. Go. I’ll see you later.”

“I’ll call you!” I promised, yelling over my shoulder as we made a beeline for the parking lot. Teddy led me to his car, a worn Ford SUV that looked at least a decade old. He unlocked the doors and I hopped in, the interior neat and tidy except for a stray McDonald’s wrapper that lay crumpled on the floor.

“What are we telling the police? We need a plan.” Teddy stretched out his right arm and braced it against my headrest as he looked over his shoulder to back out of the spot. His biceps strained at his tee-shirt, and a vein bulged on his forearm.

I swallowed, suddenly distracted. Why was that motion so hot? It made me wonder about a certain other bulging appendage—

“Jigsaw?”

“Oh. Right.” I closed my eyes, trying to concentrate on where to start. “The notes, obviously. They were clearly threats. I have the one I got this morning and a photo of the first one on my phone.”

Teddy’s jaw tensed. “But it wasn’t just a threat. They actually tried to kill you. Literally ten minutes ago.”

I shivered, the thought still chilling me. “We can’t prove that though, can we? People make mistakes about food allergies all the time.”

“We need to tell them that you got the note and your food was messed with on the same day.” Teddy steered us onto the highway, pushing the gas until we were going ten miles over the speed limit. Thankfully, the GPS said it was only twelve minutes to the station.

“Ok. Agreed.” Still, something was bugging me. “It’s just an awful coincidence that Brent steals my food the same day it was tampered with, and that he has the same food allergy as me.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“I mean,” I twisted in my seat to face him, “what if someone originally meant it for me, but got fed up with Brent and gave him the idea to steal my food so he would eat it instead?”

Teddy frowned, skeptical. “Isn’t the simplest explanation the likeliest one? Isn’t that, like, Myrtle’s Law?”

“Merv’s Law,” I corrected.

“Whatever.”

(Later, I would Google it. We were both wrong.)

“I know it’s a long shot, but think about it. This morning, Brent said whoever was leaving me notes was serious. He knew who killed Trevor, I just know it. But he didn’t go to the police. Whoever it was must have been blackmailing him.”

“I can see that.”

“And that would explain why he’s been so off. If he knew there was a killer on the loose and they were threatening him, no wonder he was in bad shape. He was getting high more than usual to cope.”

“Not bad enough shape to keep his hands to himself the other night,” Teddy grumbled.

“Would you stay on topic?” Suddenly, something clicked and I gripped his arm. “What if it was Natasha? What did she say before we all broke for lunch? ‘What did I tell you?’ She must have been threatening him before today. Maybe earlier this morning she put peanuts in my food to stop me from investigating, but after Brent pissed her off so badly, she decided to off him instead?”

“Fuck.” Teddy ran a hand down his chin. “You could be right.”

“You were on set this morning. Could she have snuck away to mess with my food?”

“She definitely disappeared between wrapping the first scene and when we came back for the second one.” Teddy tightened his grip on the wheel. “If she did kill Trevor and knew you were investigating, that would be a very big motive.”

Suddenly, it all clicked into place. “Trevor pissed off Natasha the first day by ruining my costume and then rushing onto set to help you knock over the lamp. She found out I was poking around investigating, so she decided to get rid of me, until Brent irritated her enough to change her plans.”

“You could be right.” Teddy glanced at me. “Do we have proof of that, though?”

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