Page 87 of Murder on the Page

“Sure,” I said.

“An Ugly Pig,” Tegan said.

“Who are you calling ugly?” Wallis joshed, and winked.

“A side of your house fries, too,” Tegan added. “With all three sauces.” The sriracha aioli was my favorite. Tegan preferred the cumin catsup. We both liked the chutney mayo.

“Wallis, before you go, I’ve got a question for you.” I lowered my voice. “Katrina’s ex-boyfriend—”

“Scum.”

“Yeah, I got that vibe. I saw him here last night. He and Katrina exchanged words. I asked if she wanted to talk about it, but she told me to butt out. Do you know”—I decreased my volume even further—“if he’s blackmailing her?”

Wallis cut a look at Katrina and returned her gaze to me. Matching my tone, she said, “You’ll have to ask her.”

“Did she and Marigold argue about pictures Upton took?”

“You know about the pictures?”

Bingo!I was right. “Yes. He’s a creep.”

“To the max.”

“Tell her to talk to me. I think I could help her.”

“She didn’t kill Marigold,” she stated with authority. “I asked her.”

I swallowed hard. That was bold on her part, but how would she know whether Katrina was lying? I didn’t think they were best buds. “Even so, tell her. Please.”

“I’ll be back with those beers,” she said in her full voice.

In minutes, she returned, set down our drinks, and said, “Katrina will talk to you, Allie, butonlyyou. Alone. Outside. Behind the kitchen.”

She wouldn’t dare lay a finger on me, not with Wallis and Tegan knowing where I was. I had to risk it.

Zach entered the Brewery with Bates and made a beeline to the hostess. He said something. She gave a curt nod and headed away as if he’d sent her on a mission. Bates was viewing something on his cell phone. Zach did the same.

In a flash, I sneaked through the kitchen and out the door to the rear of the building.

Katrina was, once again, pacing with an unlit cigarette in hand. She flicked the cigarette to the ground and crushed it with the toe of her shoe. “So you figured things out, huh?”

“Upton is blackmailing you. With what? Does he have photos of you at a gentlemen’s club?”

“A gentlemen’s . . .” Her mouth dropped open. “What gave you that idea? Do I look like I can pole dance?”

“You’re fit.”

“Ha! That’s sweet, but no I’m not. I don’t work out a stitch. However, you were close with your guess. Upton took some compromising photos.”

Of the two of them? In the act? Ew.

“He threatened to post them on social media.”

“What a slime bucket.”

“Yeah, he’s a vindictive SOB and super angry that we broke up.”

I waited. When she didn’t proceed, I said, “Marigold and you argued. Was it about him?”

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