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Chapter Eighteen

“It’s not what it looks like,” Kate blurted, which wasn’t really true, only because she had no idea what it looked like. She certainly couldn’t tell what it looked like based on the blank expression on Jake’s face as he took in the scene. Kate jerked back from Spencer’s grasp, the necklace chain snagging on his cuff button and ripping out of Kate’s hand to drop to the floorboard. The chain slipped through the crack, the pendant snaking through the boards after it and disappearing.

“I see I’ve interrupted something,” Jake said, his tone flat. “I’ll leave.”

“Jake, wait!” Kate called out, costing herself precious seconds as she scrambled into a pair of leggings. She lurched for the attic opening, practically shoving Spencer out of the way.

“Kate!” Spencer called, following after her. “I think we should talk—”

“No more talking!” Kate said, chasing Jake and his stupid long strides down the hallway. “Talking is overrated! Talking is probably what killed the dinosaurs, all that CO 2 in the air. Jake! Please!”

She caught him at the head of the stairs, snagging his lovely soft sweater. He paused, that expressionless expression so frightening on his normally smiling face. She was going to have to admit that he might be right, that Spencer might really be a murderer. Or at least an attempted one. And that he might have planted Kennedy’s necklace in her suitcase to frame her for the job, which was just a real kick in the teeth after everything he’d already put her through.

“What was that about moving on?” Jake asked, his voice low and angry.

“Listen, I think you might have had a potentially valid point. If you’d let me explain—”

“What’s there to explain? You’re an adult, aren’t you? Even if you don’t always act like it. And Spencer, well, I don’t think any of us should be surprised he’s a cheater, right?”

Kate sucked in a breath. “How dare you.”

Jake rubbed at his face. “You’re going to get yourself hurt, Kate.”

“I can handle Spencer,” Kate said.

“It’s not just that.” Jake hesitated, glancing behind her, where Spencer was clumsily navigating the rickety stairs out of the attic. Jake lowered his voice. “Someone sabotaged the generator.”

“What?” Kate gasped, far too loud.

“Kate?” Spencer called. “Are you all right?”

“Yep! Just give us a minute!” she called back in a falsely cheerful tone. She stepped closer to Jake, trying to ignore how he always smelled faintly of salt and coconut, like he’d just come out of the ocean. “What do you mean, someone sabotaged the generator?”

“I mean, the fuel line was cut. And not very well, either. It was like someone took a handsaw to it.”

“Why would someone do that?” Kate wondered.

Jake looked at her pointedly. “Oh, I don’t know, because maybe they didn’t want the wedding ceremony to happen?”

Kate frowned, chewing at one corner of her lip. She had to admit it looked awfully suspicious. Spencer goes missing overnight, during the same time frame the generator was sabotaged. And he’d been cagey with her earlier when she’d asked where he’d been last night. Still, that didn’t mean he was guilty, or that he’d poisoned Kennedy. Loretta would warn her not to jump to conclusions before she had all the facts.

“If someone really did sabotage the generator to stop the wedding ceremony, that means Kennedy is still in danger,” Kate reasoned. “Which means I can’t stop now.”

Jake gave a frustrated sigh. “You need to be more careful, Kate. You go around poking a hornet’s nest, you’re likely to get stung.”

“What would you have me do?” Kate asked hotly. “Sit around and wait for them to come find me? Let them finish the job they started on Kennedy last night? I’m going to find out who’s behind this, with or without you.”

“Oh sure, what do you need Jake of All Trades for?” Jake said, his tone taking on a bitter edge. He turned away, heading down the stairs. “When you’ve got Spencer up in your room playing tonsil hockey with you?”

“Excuse me?” Kate gasped, nearly falling down the stairs in her rush to follow him. “I wasn’t playing anything. I was trying to find out where he was last night! And you made it perfectly clear last night that you want nothing to do with me. Again. So, what do you care what I do with my time or my tongue?”

Jake paused on the stairs, gripping the railing hard before pivoting and surging up to the step just below her. The height difference put them at eye level, which meant she was staring directly into the storm of his gaze when he spoke.

“For the record, the only reason I didn’t kiss you last night was because you were clearly drunk, clearly upset, and clearly still hung up on your ex. Who you were just embracing in the dark, I’d like to point out again.”

“Well, joke’s on you, because you already kissed me,” Kate said, crossing her arms. “At the rehearsal dinner.”

“I didn’t kiss you,” Jake said. He’d dropped his voice low, the vibration of it changing her heartbeat. “ You kissed me . And you were doing it for him . When I kiss you, it will be for you and me. Nobody else. And you’ll be stone-cold sober.”

Kate rocked back on her heels, stunned into silence. What did he mean, when I kiss you? He’d made it perfectly clear a kiss between them would come the day after a global apocalypse. But Jake was done with the conversation—done with her—and already halfway down the stairs. She wanted to chase after him, to remind him she was in fact stone-cold sober right now. But Spencer was hovering, reminding her she had more pressing concerns than Jake Hawkins at the moment. Even if the rest of her body was in riotous disagreement with her.

“Sorry if I caused any issues with you and Jake,” Spencer said. His tone didn’t sound very apologetic, though.

“I bet you’re heartbroken over it,” Kate said. “But that’s not what I’m interested in right now. What I want to know is where you went after the rehearsal dinner. I know you weren’t with Kennedy, and you might have gone looking for me but we both know you didn’t find me. Plus, your brother has already ratted you out about being a no-show for your bro downtime. So where were you?”

Spencer frowned. “Why do you need to know?”

“Why are you acting like you have something to hide?” Kate countered, going on the offensive. “Unless you actually have something to hide?”

Spencer’s gaze roved around the hallway. “I… was… with…”

Kate rolled her eyes. “Spencer, I see you lying. God, you’re bad at this. Where were you?”

Spencer huffed out a petulant sigh. “Fine. It’s just, out of context, it’s going to sound—”

“Spencer!”

“I was with Ian,” he said, glaring. “Until about two in the morning, talking… business.”

“Ian the estate lawyer?” Kate asked in surprise. “Why?”

Spencer’s gaze turned shifty. “Look, I said I know how it’s going to sound—”

“I swear to god, Spencer.”

“The prenup!” he blurted out. He huffed a sigh, like the effort of releasing that secret had robbed him of air. “Ian helped me with the details and I thought he might know a way I could, uhhh… get out of it. You know, legally. Or otherwise.”

She could only be grateful that Jake wasn’t there to hear Spencer’s confession just then, because she was positive the asshole would never let her hear the end of it. He’d visit her on her deathbed only to whisper in her ear I told you so .

“Why the hell would you be trying to get out of your prenup?” Kate demanded.

“Not the whole thing,” Spencer muttered. “Just… certain clauses.”

“Which certain clauses?” Kate pressed, letting the insult idiot infuse her tone.

Spencer sighed, going to town on his glasses again. At this rate, they’d be cleaner than a brand-new pair. “After Kennedy convinced the board of trustees to hold the wedding here, Rebecca forced her to add a damages clause to our prenup. She was afraid that letting this many people on the island might cause historically disastrous destruction. Her words, obviously. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, since Ken said of course nobody would go around ripping sconces out of the walls or tearing up hundred-year-old floorboards. But the problem is, the wording is really vague. It said if anything substantially damaging happened this weekend, Ken and I would be on the hook for repairs. The cost of which would be astronomical. You should have seen what the restoration guys charged just to repaint.”

“So, what, you were worried about getting a bill from Rebecca for the storm damage?”

“I wasn’t worried just about the storm,” Spencer hedged.

“Then what?” Kate heaved a disgruntled sigh. “For pete’s sake, was it me? The rehearsal dinner speech? You didn’t really think I would sabotage your wedding over that.”

“You were so upset,” Spencer said. “And I didn’t understand why, at first. You know how I get about public speaking. I was just reading. I wasn’t really reading . But then you… you ran out, and I read over the cards again, and I realized what it was. And, Kate, I swear I don’t know how those cards got in my pocket.”

Kate crossed her arms defensively. “So, you thought I might go crazy ex-girlfriend and start smashing up the house because of it? And you just wanted to be sure you wouldn’t get stuck footing the bill for my emotional trauma–induced property damage?”

“It wasn’t like that,” Spencer said, propping his glasses on his nose and looking at her earnestly. “Kate, when you ran out, it stirred up a lot of feelings for me, too. I wanted to know my options before it was too late to do anything about them.”

Oh, like hell she was going to let him do something so stupid as act like he had feelings for her now, of all weekends. She already had one nonexistent relationship causing her heartburn. But at least Spencer had an alibi for the previous evening—he was with Ian when Kate found Kennedy’s body. Which meant Kate needed to consider the rest of her suspects.

“Rebecca seemed pissed off about the board of trustees business,” Kate said, switching tactics. “And I’ve heard she can be pretty vindictive when it comes to people crossing her.”

“Ah, I see you’ve made Marcus Sheffield’s acquaintance,” Spencer said. “I wish I could have seen Rebecca’s face when she found out Ken included him on the guest list.”

“Do you think she’d try to retaliate against Kennedy like she did against Marcus?”

Spencer tilted his head to the side. “Retaliate? Rebecca can obviously hold a grudge, and she and Ken have had their disagreements. Ken mostly goes along with whatever Rebecca tells her to do as the future heir, though every once in a while Ken takes a stand and they go around about it. But Ken loves her aunt. And she told me they’d already worked it out. Ken apologized for going behind her back, and Rebecca agreed to let us hold the wedding here.”

Or maybe Kennedy only thought her aunt had accepted her apology, when really she’d been planning her future demise. Same as she’d done to Marcus Sheffield. After all, Rebecca had been conspicuously absent that morning after so happily playing the doting aunt last night. Maybe now that her schemes were coming to fruition, she wasn’t interested in playing the role anymore. Was that why Rebecca had invited Kate? To play the patsy to her scheme to do away with Kennedy?

“Why are you asking me all these questions about Kennedy and Rebecca and the prenup?” Spencer asked. “I thought you wanted to talk to me about the speech.”

“Oh, ahhh…” Kate could hardly admit to him now that someone had tried to poison his bride, or that he was a suspect. “I saw Serena outside, with some other Simon Says authors. Protesting. I was wondering if that might impact your damage clause.”

Spencer groaned. “Oh god, I told Kennedy it was a bad idea to invite her. To invite any of you! No offense.”

“Great offense taken.”

Spencer gave her an exasperated look. “Ken is always going on about how Simon Says is a family, and Simon’s been like a dad to her since her own dad died. I think she gets lonely, despite her family name being on every other building around town. Her aunt is basically a recluse, her cousins are always fighting over the will, and her parents died when she was young. I think to her, Simon Says really is like family, and she forgets that everybody else just works there.”

“Last night, Serena said you told her that all new contract negotiations are on pause,” Kate said. “Is that true?”

“Oh,” Spencer said, blinking a few times. His gaze slid to the side. “I’m not really supposed to say.”

“So it’s true,” Kate said, easily connecting the dots. “But why? Is Simon closing the business? Is Simon Says folding?”

“I said I’m not supposed to say,” Spencer said.

“Is that why everybody’s marketing campaigns have been going so poorly? Because there’s no budget to actually promote them?”

“Kate!” Spencer said, exasperated.

“Hey, if I’m out of a job I need to know it!” Kate countered, suddenly worried about her next mortgage payment.

“You know you’re not out of a job, not with the way Loretta sells,” Spencer said.

“But you are hiding something,” Kate said. “I could tell last night. You know something, so spill it. What do you want, a pinky promise that I won’t tell? Should we spit in our hands and shake on it? Blood pact?”

“Even though I know you wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to stab me or spit on me, I’ll just take your word.” Spencer glanced around the hallway, like there might be a spy lurking in the corridor waiting to catch him in an act of corporate espionage. “There’s a rumor—just a rumor, mind you, I don’t have real proof yet—that Simon is looking to sell the publishing house.”

“What?” Kate whispered, leaning in closer. This was real gossip, indeed. “Why?”

Spencer shrugged. “He hasn’t said anything official yet, but there have been… signs. He’s already made me cut ties with several of my lower-performing authors, and he’s holding out on extending anybody else’s contracts unless they’re high-earners like you. Serena’s been down my throat for months now, wanting to move forward on her next title, and I can’t. There’s another rumor that layoffs are coming in every department.”

“Who’s on the chopping block?” Kate asked.

“I’d guess the highest earners in every department, like Juliette. She’s obviously way more expensive than the interns, and as far as I can tell, most of her job is just telling them what to do. If she gets cut, the department budget basically gets cut in half.”

“Does Juliette know?” Kate thought about Juliette sneaking into locked rooms last night. Was that Simon’s room she’d been breaking into? Maybe looking for proof that he was going to cut her? Maybe Juliette thought she’d axe Kennedy before Kennedy could drop the axe on her.

“If I’ve noticed the signs, Juliette certainly has,” Spencer said. “There’s not much that gets past her at Simon Says.”

And if anybody was devious enough to use Kate’s book as a blueprint to frame her for Kennedy’s poisoning, it would be Juliette Winters. She’d been the first one to connect the dots in the wine cave last night, which made sense if she’d been the one to draw the dots in the first place. Plus, someone had planted Kennedy’s necklace in Kate’s luggage. A necklace she still needed to find and get rid of before Juliette started a witch hunt to find it.

“I need to go,” Kate said, heading back toward her room. “And you need to get to your tux fitting before Jean-Pierre has an aneurysm.”

“But we still haven’t talked about the speech,” Spencer called, sounding disappointed.

“Tux fitting, now!” Kate said, waving him off. She didn’t have time for speeches or disappointed ex-fiancés. She had a necklace to find, and a murder to thwart.