Page 184 of No One Was Supposed to Die at This Wedding

“This is ridiculous,” Simone says.

“Was it you or Fred who killed José? Breaking a grown man’s neck...It must have been Fred. He must’ve asked José to meet him at the ropes course. He killed him and rigged the course so it would seem like an accident. That’s why I fell through it.

“And then he sent himself that text to meet José in the basement from José’s phone. He erased the other texts between them. And then he dropped the phone by accident and couldn’t find it because he didn’t have his phone. And then you must’ve hit him on the head in the basement to make it look realistic.” I shake my head at myself. “It was analibi. To make us think José was still alive long after he was dead.”

“And Ken?” Oliver says. “Why Ken?”

“Because he looks so much like Fred. If Fred was the victim, then he couldn’t also be the murderer. Easy enough for him to slip away for a minute and do it. His prints were already on the knife from cutting the cake. And Ken trusted him. He’d go anywhere with him.”

“And Shawna?”

“That was Simone, it must’ve been. She was coming here to tell Emma everything.” I turn back to Simone. “So you stabbed her before she could get here. But you must’ve gotten a bit sloppy because she didn’t die. She made it here anyway.” I wait. “Nothing to say, Simone?”

“I’m not some villain in a bad movie. You have zero evidence of any of this, and when we get back to the mainland, I’ll be speaking exclusively to my lawyer.”

“In the meantime, the phone will be enough to hold you. You and Fred, right, Officer Anderson?”

“I havenothingto do with this,” Fred says. “I would never be withher.”

“Fuck you, Fred,” Simone says in a whisper, and her breaking heart is plain for all to see. “I amnottaking the fall for you.”

They stare at each other, and it’s impossible to know what’s passing unsaid between them. But then Simone shakes her head slightly from side to side, her eyes narrowing, some plot forming.

I see it. Fred sees it.

And nowFredis scared. “I’ll confess, Officer Anderson. Shedidwant me to marry Emma for the money. But not to kill her. If we were married, I’d have access to it, prenup or not. Resources. Credit.She’sthe one who killed José. And Shawna. And Ken. She never told me half of what she was doing—”

“Stop it. Stop, stop,stop. You...This was my one shot. My one chance to prove myself, and you just threw it away. Because you’re Fred Winter! You always land on your feet. Even when you were stupid enough to lose all that money. Tyler was never going to do anything to you. That’s what you never understood.” She clamps her jaw shut.

“As I was saying—”

“Shut up, Tucci!” half of us say together.

Not Emma. Not Harper. Not Fred. Not Simone.

The victims and the perpetrators.

They’re silent, locked in this tragedy together, everything changed forever.

I know the feeling, but I’m apart from it.

The hurt doesn’t touch me the way it touches them.

And I can’t even feel the satisfaction of solving it because I didn’t want to know this.

I wish it weren’t true.

Officer Anderson takes out a set of zip ties and walks towardFred. It feels like it’s happening in slow motion, this big dramatic rise to one more moment before the curtain falls.

CRASH!

The door slams open and the wind howls as Mr. and Mrs. Winter burst in through the door. Mrs. Winter stops as her eyes sweep the room, her cheeks two high spots of color. “What is happening? Where are you taking my son?”

“Mrs. Winter, please calm down,” Emma says.

“No, I willnotcalm down! That Mr. Prentice told me that there was a body found in your room and I thought...I thought...” She glances at Shawna’s body on the floor, covered by a sheet. “What is happening, Fred? Tell me at once.”

“Just leave it, Mother.”

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