Page 18 of Every Time I Go on Vacation, Someone Dies

I wait to see if anyone else wants my signature, but apparently not.

Whatever. My ego doesn’t depend on the number of books I sign at an event.31

Susan clutches the book to her chest, then walks back to another woman in her forties who’s snapping pictures on her phone.

Oh, no.

“What’s she doing here?”

“Who?”

“Her.” I start to point, then lower my finger. “Crazy Cathy.”32

Harper follows my gaze. Cathy’s bleached-blond hair is in a topknot on her head. She’s wearing a BookFace shirt, white shorts, sturdy walking sandals, and long dangly earrings that I’m pretty sure have my face on them. She started showing up at my events six or seven years ago, and it got weird, fast.

“I don’t remember seeing her on the list. Maybe she was one of the last-minute replacements?”

“Isn’t she supposed to be banned?”33

“Not sure it’s legally enforceable here.”

“So, you’re telling me I’m on a tour with Connor, nineteen fans, and my stalker?”

Harper takes out her phone. “I’ll call Marta, the publicist, and find out how this happened.” She steps away and I take a moment to collect my thoughts.

It’ll be fine. It’s not like she’s ever threatened me. Well, just the one time. But she’s been quiet for the last year. And we’ll never be alone together. She hasn’t even talked to me yet.

Harper comes back.

“Well?”

“Couldn’t reach her. I’ll try again later.”

“Keep an eye on Cathy.” I check the time, wishing I’d insisted on that drink. “Is this tour starting or what?”

“I think this is our guide.” She points to a blowsy woman in her fifties with tawny, windblown hair and loose clothing that makes it difficult to determine her exact shape.

“Hello, hello! Are you Harper?” the woman says as she approaches us. She talks in a singsong voice with a slight accent.

“Sylvie?”

“Nice to meet you.” Sylvie looks around. “Is this our group?”

“Yes. These twenty, plus Connor and us two.”

Sylvie smiles in Connor’s direction. He’s talking to Susan and Cathy like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

Is this the guy who was cowering on the ground twenty minutes ago?

He probably made that whole thing up for some stupid reason of his own. But what if he didn’t? Am I going to help him stop someone from killing him?

“He is handsome, no?” Sylvie says.

I give her a fake smile. “Yes. Very handsome.”

“Too bad about the personality,” Harper mutters.

Sylvie frowns. “Shall we begin?”

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