Page 116 of Juniper Bean Resorts to Murder

“Zip ties,” she says with a little grin. “Escaping zip ties.”

I laugh. “Tempting.” I pause, then go on, “Is there romance in this book?”

“Of course,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I don’t write books without romance in them.”

“Silly me,” I say. “Then let’s research that instead.”

“What, romance?” she says, and her smile widens.

“Romance,” I say, leaning in for a kiss. I press my lips to hers, threading my fingers into her pink hair.

She laughs before kissing me back.

I don’t know what the coming days will hold. I don’t know how Juniper is going to make peace with all the things that have happened over the last month. But I’ll be by her side through it all.

My fate.

EPILOGUE

SIX MONTHS LATER

“Just tell me where we’re going.”

“Mmm,” Aiden hums from the driver’s seat. “No. I don’t think I will yet.” I can hear the amusement in his voice, but thanks to the blindfold around my eyes, all I can see is a faint strip of gray at the top and bottom of my vision.

“Did you ever stop to consider that this is ruining my eye makeup?” I say. “My makeup looked amazing.”

“It did,” he says, still sounding amused. “So does the dress.”

I smooth my hands down the front of my prom dress, smiling a little.

The prom-turned-Hunger-Banquet was a surprising success. Aiden worked his butt off to put everything together, but I was worried the kids would give him a hard time. And they did at first, but the statistics he rolled out and the bowls of rice and beans and whatnot had their faces turning from disgruntled to solemn. They perked up in time for the dance, though, and we were bombarded by the usual stench of teenage body odor and raging hormones. The Betties chaperoned properly this time, too—as it turns out, during the Homecoming dance, they snuck down to the woods to vape.

Tovape.

They saw Sandy briefly by the Solomon statue, still alive, when they first went down, but not when they returned. I felt kind of bad for them; they looked sheepish and drawn all throughout thein memoriamslideshow honoring Sandy. They clearly felt horrible.

Rocco Astor did not get a slideshow.

Once Sandy’s body was found buried behind his home on his sprawling country property, Rocco pleaded guilty to three counts of murder: Sandy, my mother, and Thomas Freese. The whole story came to me in bits and pieces after that, based on Rocco’s confession and the blanks the police filled in.

Sandra found an old picture of my mother that Rocco had kept. He told her it was an old girlfriend who had died. The police think Sandy saw my post on the town forum and then told Rocco she’d seen someone who looked just like his old flame. From there she began following me and then Aiden. I guess Rocco’s reaction was suspicious enough to her that she ended up tricking him into admitting the truth—using copious amounts of alcohol, he says. Once she knew the whole story, she decided to tell me. He killed her the night we were supposed to meet, when he found out what she was planning—a blow to the front of the head only moments before Aiden and I crashed into the woods. He hid from us and then carried her body away once we’d gone; I don’t know how he made it to his car without anyone seeing him, but he did. The photos he sent Tonya von Meller were, of course, photoshopped—something Garrity’s contact in Boise was able to prove.

On the whole, an incredibly sad, incredibly scary story. She was smart and beautiful with a healthy disdain for what she perceived as the absurdly wealthy lifestyle she and her family led; I imagine this is part of why she and Rocco bonded. He truly hated the wealth he was raised with.

I wish he could have just done something good with it. Ten minutes with Aiden would have convinced him to donate to the food bank, for starters. He’s always going on about how they run out of toilet paper every month. Of course, he’s also been nagging Lionel—who staunchly refuses to let me call himUncle Lionel,despite his reluctant agreement to have dinner with me once a month—about more funding, so we’ll see where that gets him.

I, as it turns out, have been on Lionel’s radar for far longer than I thought. He kept an eye on me and my mother over the years. When he found out I was going into the system, he pulled a few strings to make sure his old friend, Cam, was assigned to my case. He was looking out for my mother even then, in his own, weird way. I met up with Cameron for lunch a few weeks back, and it went well; maybe we’ll meet up again in the future, when the past doesn’t feel so raw.

The car is silent as we drive, and I let my eyes flutter closed beneath the bandana Aiden has around my eyes. It’s been a long evening; first the banquet, followed by the dance. It must be nearing midnight by now, and the corsage on my wrist is wilted.

But I guess Aiden still has something he wants to show me. So I wait, my hand tucked in his as his thumb absently strokes my knuckles.

I sit up straighter a few minutes later when I feel the change in our path—crunchy gravel beneath the tires instead of smooth pavement.

“Aiden,” I say, reaching for the bandana. “Are we—”

“Wait,” he says. His hand comes up to still mine, pulling it away from the bandana. “Hear me out, okay?”

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