Page 52 of Every Time I Go on Vacation, Someone Dies

“Exactly.”

He takes a beat, then smiles. “Well, I, for one, can’t wait to read all about it.”

AMALFI MADE ME DO IT—OUTLINE

Poirot died from a heart condition complicated by not taking his pills. That probably won’t work. Think of something better.

WHY?

Motive #2: The ex-wife. Too obvious? Red herring?

Motive #3: The ex–business partner. Also obvious. But a good red herring?

WHERE?

Dinner gathering of all the suspects?

It was on the itinerary, so someone could easily plan it. (Ha!)

Poison in the soup? Could write a super graphic description of his death. THAT would be FUN.

TO DO

RESEARCH death by poisoning. ERASE search history.

FIND MORE SUSPECTS—this should be easy.

TELL AGENT/PUBLISHER—ugh.

Correct quote: “The play’s the thing / Wherein I’ll catch the conscience of the king.”—Hamlet, Act 5, Scene 2

CHAPTER 10Death Comes at the End

When dinner’s over, we’re both tired, so we walk back to the hotel.

We’re all staying at the same one, on the same floor, and I think briefly about that master key floating around out there, the one that was in Harper’s purse. I meant to ask her to tell the hotel to cancel it and get another, but the thought slipped my mind.

I’m sure it’s fine, though.65 Harper’s always on those sorts of things.

Besides, I’m not the target. If there even is a target.

And Connor can take care of himself.

We ride the elevator in silence, the air thick between us, my feet killing from the stupid shoes I never should’ve worn. Harper texted me while we were at the restaurant asking for an update, but I didn’t feel like putting a label on it, so I sent back a devil emoji and didn’t wait for her reply.

The door dings! on the third floor and we step out.

“How did I not know you were staying here?” I ask.

“You never were that much into the details.”

“You sound like Harper.”

“She’s a smart cookie.”

“She is.” I take a left toward my door, which is second from the end; Connor is in the last room at this end, and Harper’s to the right of me. I don’t know which room is Oliver’s, and that’s probably a good thing.

Because it sounds romantic to knock on someone’s door in the middle of the night, and then kiss them silently after they open it and tumble into bed together, but the reality is that Oliver’s more likely to sleep through the knock because he’s a deep sleeper.

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