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“She wasn’t happy. Hopefully she doesn’t know how to pick a lock.”

“What do you think about her story?”

“I don’t know what to think. My brain is full of cobwebs.” He exhaled roughly. “There are a lot of people who had problems with Santiago. He obviously pissed off the wrong person.”

“I agree. He did a lot of dumb stuff.” I frowned. “Even so, I have trouble picturing Gianna killing him.”

“Yeah. But then I remember how we all thought Mable Wilmington was a saint too. It’s a good reminder that people can be sweet as pie right up until they ruthlessly slip you some poison.”

“God. Good point.” I shivered.

“I don’t know how I’m ever going to be able to do this, Max.” Royce sounded dejected. “I have no surveillance footage. I have no idea who was where when. I don’t have fingerprints, DNA, arrest records. I don’t haveanythingthat I’d usually have to help me figure out who the killer is. I feel hopeless.”

I frowned, hating the sense of failure in his voice. “I’ll try to help you, but I have zero forensic training.”

“I know.”

“I will say I didn’t notice any defensive wounds on Santiago’s hands, but I wasn’t really looking either.”

“Yeah, I didn’t notice any.” He sighed and tugged Mona’s cell from his pocket. “God, still no signal.”

“Damn.”

He glanced at me. “Just so you know, I don’t expect you to solve the case for me. I don’t mean to make you feel pressure.”

“I think you’re putting too much pressure onyourself. Maybe you can’t solve Santiago’s murder until the river goes down and help arrives. With these obstacles, I don’t know that anyone could. There are too many people and no way to know where anyone was at any given moment.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, like I said, no one could solve Santiago’s murder under these circumstances.”

He laughed gruffly. “Jessica Fletcher could.”

“Okay, other than her andmaybethe Hardy Boys.”

He sighed. “I just don’t want anyone else to get hurt.”

“You can’t control that. You have to accept that fact. You’re doing what you can by insisting people avoid being alone.”

“I guess.”

“You know I’m right. You’re only one man.” We were almost to our cabin. I glanced across the way, and all the cabins were dark. It seemed everyone but us had gone to bed. Did they feel safe? Did the killer feel safe because he or she knew the odds were against Royce ever catching them?

“If you had to go based solely off of a gut feeling, who do you think killed Santiago?” Royce asked softly.

“Based just off of my gut?”

“Yeah?”

“Is Mary Puppins in the running?”

He laughed. “That’s up to you.”

“God, I have no idea. Amelia for sure had the strongest motive. Jax seems capable, but I don’t think flirting with Madison is a strong enough motive to brutally stab a man.”

“Maybe they did more than flirt, and he found out.”

“It’s possible.” I shrugged. “Richard seems coldhearted enough to kill someone. He’s selfish and greedy. But I don’t know that he has the balls to stick a knife in someone’s chest. It’s not a pretty job. He’d probably be afraid of getting blood on his fancy suit.”