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I frowned at her. “I’m the one who had a threesome last night.”
Fang glanced over at me, laughter flickering at his lips. “He said that like it was something out of the ordinary. Was that baby’s first group sex experience?”
I didn’t respond.
Rebel’s mouth dropped open. “Shit! I think you’re right.” She peered at me. “You were a threesome virgin?”
“I’ve been with my wife since I was nineteen. I didn’t exactly get a whole lot of time for fooling around.”
They looked at each other and laughed.
Rebel side-eyed me. “Fuck. Thirty-something and only ever had one partner. You have done other positions, right? Or are you strictly a missionary man?”
Heat crept up the back of my neck. “Just tell us what the paper and marker are for, would you? Nobody cares about how many threesomes I’ve had.”
“I don’t know. It’s kinda fun watching you squirm.” Fang folded his arms behind his head and leaned back on the couch, a shit-eating grin playing all over his face.
Rebel pressed her teeth down on her lip, like she was biting back amusement, and slowly let it pop out. “Okay. Enough teasing Mr. Vanilla. If you two actually want to help me, instead of running down to the cop shop and getting yourselves arrested, here’s what you can do. Help me work out other suspects. If the cops are determined to pin it on me, then we need to give them other places and people to investigate.”
She uncapped the marker and scrawled “Suspects” across the top of the page.
“What are you, fifteen?” I muttered, watching her draw a bubble-shaped cloud around the word.
She glared at me, then wrote down her first suspect’s name.
“Me!” I shouted indignantly. “Are you serious?”
She lifted a shoulder. “Hey, if I’m a suspect because of the inheritance, you should be too.”
She was right. But it didn’t matter. “My lawyer paid the cops to not look in my direction.”
Rebel shook her head then put an asterisk next to my name. “That”—she stabbed her pen into the paper—“means I suspect you even more now.”
I rolled my eyes. “It wasn’t me.”
“That’s what Ted Bundy said too.”
I groaned. “How about we add some other names to the list? Like Fang.”
Fang laughed. “Why me? What’s my motive?”
“I don’t know. Miranda was pretty hot. Maybe you wanted to trade the family car for the Lamborghini.”
Rebel threw the marker lid at me. “Did you just call me a family car, Vaughn Weston? Can you even make it through one full day without being an asshole?”
“Apparently not.”
“I’m not putting Fang on the list. That’s ridiculous. Who else? How about your mom and stepdad?”
I shook my head. “Not a chance. My dad literally stepped aside so the two of them could get married. If anyone would want to kill anyone out of that threesome, it should be my dad wanting to kill my mom. But that was twenty years ago anyway. Would be a long time to hold a grudge if you were upset enough to wait this long.”
Rebel tapped the marker on the tabletop. “That checks with what my mom said about your parents. Shame.”
“Shame my mom isn’t a murderer? Nice, Roach.”
She flipped me the bird. “They’re going on the list, but not with an asterisk. Yours still stands.”
I rolled my eyes. “What about your dad?”