Page 23 of Little Shattered Dreams

“Oh, come on. He’s not that bad,” Simone said. “He said I remind him of Diahann Carroll.”

“Who?” Hunter asked.

Simone shook her head disappointed. “Back in the ’60s, she was the most successful black woman in Hollywood. Anyway, back to Karl. I’ve been having a great time with him in my sessions.”

Hunter, whose long, reddish hair was in braids, responded with, “Youareoutgoing and chatty, Simone.Youhave no problem talking about yourself or your life or whatever happens to be on your mind at any given moment.”

Simone eyed Hunter like she wasn’t sure whether to take Hunter’s words as a compliment or a criticism or both. Simone leaned back in her chair, crossed one leg over her knee, her shiny black Doc Martens boot bobbing up and down as she said, “I like to talk. So, what?” she said. Then she turned to me. “And, yes, I’m in too. I’d still like to keep my daily sessions with Karl every day though, and maybe keep getting massages too.”

“I’m not trying to get either of you to cancel all your plans this week,” I said. “Keep them if you want—the massages, the classes with Karl. I was just hoping you’d be willing to do some snooping around during your downtimes.”

“What do you have in mind?” Hunter asked.

Hunter was an excellent detective, but not a people person. If snooping around involved even the slightest amount of one-on-one interrogation, her anxiety went through the roof. Knowing this about her, I had a better idea.

“What I want from you, Hunter, can be done from your room, assuming you have your laptop,” I said.

She perked up and smiled. “Yep, I have it. How can I help?”

“If what Grace said is true, and no one other than her came or went yesterday, it means one thing: The killer is here, among us, someone we’ve met, seen, or talked to since our arrival.”

Simone rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “Ooh, I have chills.”

“Me too,” Hunter said.

Simone stood, hovering over the two of us. With her arms splayed, she lowered her voice and said, “Feels like we’re inside a murder mystery game, doesn’t it? Whodunit, howdunit, whydunit … Could have been your mother, with a sharp pencil, in the dining room. Or your aunt with a vape pen in the pool house. Or maybe Georgiana, it wasyouwith a frying pan full of eggs in the wine cellar.”

Hunter doubled over, smacking her leg as she snorted a laugh.

I tried to keep a straight face—until I couldn’t.

After the hilarity died down, I brought us back to the topic at hand. “Let’s be serious.”

“You’re right,” Simone said as she sat back down. “Sorry. Please continue.”

“Ruling out the three of us, my mother, my sister, and my aunt, it leaves four other guests aside from Quinn and her daughter, Faith. We’ll get to those guests later. I want to focus on the staff first.”

“I’ll take Karl,” Simone said.

“Hang on. Let’s go over each employee and what they do here. Then we’ll divvy them out.”

I faced Hunter. “I will want you to research every staff member. See what you can find out about each one.”

“Won’t it be difficult without knowing their last names?” Hunter asked.

I grinned and reached for my cell phone. I located what I was looking for and then turned the phone around so she could see what was on the screen.

“While I was meeting with Grace in her office, she stepped out to talk to Calvin, the security guy. I managed to snap this photo of her computer screen before she returned.”

“Is this an employee list?” Hunter asked.

“Sure is,” I said. “I’ll forward it to you.”

Hunter nodded, the grin on her face indicating she couldn’t wait to dive in.

I shifted my attention to Simone. “I’d like you to talk to Clara first.”

“Don’t I get a choice? Why her?”

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