I’d hidden in my hotel room for the rest of the Salon and made a vow that I was never going to see Oliver again. And now here he is, looking devastatingly handsome and acting like he might regret the way he ended our last encounter as much as I did.

“It was hard for me, too,” he says.

I search the ground. There aren’t any answers in this ancient dust. “Maybe… we could get a drink and talk?”

“About?”

“One for the Show. I read it.” I lift my head now to catch his reaction. He looks pleased but wary.

As for me? I’ve never been able to control my face. If I’m ever interrogated, any competent police officer will see right through me.42

“You said so in the New York Times profile,” Oliver says.

“That’s out already?”

“This morning. You really think it’s a masterpiece?”

“Oli, come on. I wouldn’t lie about that.”

I’ve lied about too many other things, only some of which Oliver knows about.43

“Thank you.”

We stare at each other, the air pregnant with our thoughts. I’m not used to this kind of silence between us. When we first met, all we could do was talk, talk, talk, our words tripping over one another, no thought left unexpressed. It felt like I’d met the part of me that was missing, and I couldn’t imagine anything that could pull us apart.

“Am I awful in that profile?” I ask. “I felt like I was a crazy person that day.”

“It’s fine.”

“Ouch,” I say and repeat Connor’s gesture from earlier, moving my hand to the space over my heart.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re being honest. I appreciate that.”

That hated silence again as the tourists mingle around, no one paying us attention. What do we look like to them? Old friends, old enemies, old lovers? We’ve been that, and more, and now we’re nothing but memories.

“I’m ending the series,” I say, surprising myself. “The Vacation Mysteries. Book Ten is going to be the last.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s time. Past time.”

“How are you going to do it?”

“I’m going to kill him.”

He throws his head back and laughs.

“I mean it, I’m going to. If someone doesn’t beat me to the punch.”

“What does that—”

A scream pierces the day and our heads swivel toward it in unison.

“Harper!” I shout, searching around me in panic. She’s gone and so is Connor. My heart starts to pound, and my gut tightens in fear.

If I put Harper in danger by not taking Connor seriously, I’m never going to be able to live with myself.