Page 30

CHAPTER 30

“F ancy meeting you here,” Ransom says with a smile that still makes me weak in the knees as we stand in the middle of the Sapphire Lounge.

“I’d say this is fate, but we both know you’re just following the trail of my sequins.” I pat my shiny blue dress and he waggles his brows in response.

He nods to Reed just up ahead. “How about we double-team him?”

“I’m always on your team.”

Ransom and I walk over and cut Reed off at the pass while Sassy floats overhead like the scandal-hungry spectator she is. Or come to think of it, she might just be hungry for the leather-clad man himself. Most likely both.

“Well done.” Ransom extends a hand to Reed. “That was quite a session. You really know how to work a crowd.”

“The leather helps.” Sassy sighs dreamily beside me.

Reed nods. “High praise coming from you, Detective.”

And from Sassy unbeknownst to him.

“He’s right,” I say. “You were a hit.”

“Years of practice.” Reed runs a hand through his thick locks. “But it was Brad who was the natural showman. He could spin a tale that would keep you on the edge of your seat for hours. And that’s why he was able to make a living at it.”

Ransom nods. “I reviewed a few of his podcasts. He was a master at his craft.”

I give Ransom’s hand a squeeze.

Why didn’t I think of reviewing Brad’s podcasts? Lord knows I’ve had plenty of time to watch any and every podcast under the murderous sun these past few days.

“Speaking of spinning tales,” Ransom says as his lips curve with the idea of a smile. “I’d love to hear more about your haunted house venture. It sounds fascinating.”

Sassy wraps herself around Reed like a vine. “Honey, everything about that man is fascinating.” She fans herself with her fingers. “Especially in those pants.”

I bite back a smile. “Was it a successful partnership?”

Reed looks my way and sighs. “It was complicated. It started off pretty great, but then money started disappearing. Someone was dipping into the kitty, so to speak.”

My mouth falls open at the thought. “I’m sorry to hear it. Did you talk to Brad about this?”

“And did he have any answers?” Ransom tags on the question.

“He had explanations.” Reed laughs as he says it, but it’s mournful and he’s frowning despite the fact. “He said he borrowed money from Elvie’s beauty brand when he needed a personal loan, not our venture. I didn’t know what to believe.” He shakes his head. “We were in serious debt, and at that point my trust was shot.”

“So who do you think was stealing from the real estate venture?” I press gently.

Reed shrugs. “Obviously, Brad was lying. I mean, the guy tried to get away with murder at every turn.” Reed drums his fingers against his leather-clad thigh and Sassy all but convulses with pleasure at the sight. “His lifestyle was expensive, to say the least. The guy had champagne taste on a podcast budget. Neither the podcast nor the haunted houses could keep up with his spending.”

“Did you know about his affair?” The question slips out before I can stop it.

Reed gives a few quick blinks as if I caught him off guard.

“Yes, I did.” He gives a wistful tick of his head. “It was pretty hard to miss.” His expression darkens. “Brad wasn’t exactly subtle about it. In fact, I would say he was flaunting the fact around me. Although who he was having it with, I couldn’t tell you. Not that it matters now.”

Ransom turns his head slightly, his eyes still very much focused on Reed. “Did Elvie know about this?”

“She sure did.” He nods emphatically. “She found out almost a year ago. That’s when she came to me with the news.” His voice softens. “She decided not to confront him, but she needed someone to talk to. I became her inadvertent comforter, I guess you could say.”

A year ago? I inch back at the thought.

But Becky Lee said Elvie had only discovered the affair a few weeks ago. I guess she didn’t realize exactly how long Elvie had been in the know.

Someone lets out a sharp whistle and the three of us look in that direction to find Elvie waving from the murder merch table.

“Reed,” she calls out. “Would you mind coming to look at something?”

He ticks his head to the side and chuckles. “Duty calls,” he says with an apologetic smile.

“And so do those leather pants,” Sassy purrs, zipping after him like a lusty missile in vintage polka-dots.

Ransom and I exchange a look.

“Someone is lying about something,” Ransom says. “And in my experience, people don’t lie unless they’re hiding something far worse than infidelity.”

“I agree.”

A commotion erupts by the refreshment table before I can say another word.

Nettie and Bess appear to be arm wrestling over what looks like the last maple-glazed donut.

Wes steps in to mediate, just as Tinsley charges forward brandishing her name badge like a shield. Wes grabs ahold of Nettie and tries to gently pull her back and Tinsley does the same to Bess. And within seconds, we’ve got a tug-of-war of the ages breaking out.

Shouting ensues, gasps circle the room, and a few light screams enter the equation. And then in a spectacular display of cosmic karma, they all go down like human dominoes, sending a shower of glazed fried treats sailing through the air.

“It’s raining donuts,” someone screams as the entire room runs for cover.

More screams light up the room and it sounds as if a sugar-sweet massacre just took place. And judging by the crimson stains those jelly-filled powdered beauties left in their wake, it looks as if a massacre took place, too.

Great.

Nothing says murder quite like death by donut. Although I have to admit, there are worse ways to go.

Like getting stabbed in the back by a friend—or perhaps your wife.