Page 59 of A Step You Shouldn't Take

“It was an accident, I swear.” Her knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. “I swear.”

“What happened?”

“You’re a cop. What if I incriminate myself?”

Oh, dammit, another tear leaked out of her eye. “Sweetheart, I’m hardly gonna tell anyone about this conversation. Who would believe it?”

Plus I’d be a complete fucking hypocrite if I berated her for killing an asshole then covering up their death.

“Youbelieved me. Or at least, you said you did.”

“Stop twisting things. What happened?”

She took a deep breath. “When I moved into my house, there were two ghosts. Margaret and Tiffany. Tiffany died when her boyfriend threw her down the stairs, only he said she tripped, and it got ruled an accident.”

“And you believed she was telling the truth?”

“Yes, because she wouldn’t have been there otherwise. Accidental deaths get a free pass if they’re self-inflicted. Anyhow, I got a flat tyre one day, and I really needed my car because I had a cake tasting to attend, so I went to the nearest auto repair shop instead of my regular one. And this…this pig… He was so darn rude. First, he wouldn’t even look at me, just kept working under a car on one of those little wheeled plank things. Then he finally rolled out and told me they were closed, even though the sign said open, and I’m sure he looked up my skirt as well.”

“Let me guess. This was Tiffany’s boyfriend?”

“Joey. Yes. He was so rude that I got a tiny bit angry on my way out and kicked the bumper of the car he was under. I’ll admit there was a bit of a crash as I walked away, but I honestly didn’t realise I’d done any damage until I arrived home and found Tiffany gone. And then I heard that a local mechanic got crushed when the car he was working on fell off its jacks. Apparently, he died instantly.”

“Karma at work.”

“I guess. The car was rusty, and I scuffed the toe out of a pair of Jimmy Choo pumps.” She chewed the corner of her lip for a second. “So you see, I know the Electi thing works. But I only ever tested the process that one time. Do you believe me?”

“Yes, Kim. I believe you.”

CHAPTER 17 - KIMBERLY

WHAT DO YOU know? Georgette was right. Confiding in someone did make me feel better, even if I wasn’t a hundred percent convinced that Reed wouldn’t drop me off at the nearest police precinct or “treatment centre” the next time I fell asleep.

It was his turn behind the wheel, and taking off for an impromptu weekend away felt oddly liberating, even if the circumstances were somewhat unusual. Normally, I only travelled for work, and my last vacation had been a two-week break in Aruba with Alan. I’d spent the previous month dreading it, the flight drunk, the day after we arrived hung-over, and the rest of the trip freaking out about the return journey. This was much better. Reed had even bought me a package of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups when we stopped for gas.

While he concentrated on driving, I consulted Trip Advisor. Where was the best place to stay? No way would I be sleeping in the car, and neither would Reed. I glanced into the back seat. How was it even logistically possible? He was over six feet tall, and the car really wasn’t that big. And where was all of his stuff? How did he stay clean? He didn’t smell like a homeless person. I took a surreptitious sniff. More a mix of cedar wood and man with a hint of something floral. A rainforest?

“Where do you shower?” I blurted. “Sorry. I need to remember to think before I speak.”

“Hey, you told me your secrets, I should tell you mine, right?” He was smiling. Phew. “I go to the gym most mornings.” Which also explained the muscles. “Since we’re asking questions, what made you become a wedding planner? It seems like an odd choice for you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve sworn off relationships, yet you spend all day helping couples to commit to each other.”

“I guess when you look at it that way, it must seem strange… But I like organising things.”

And I was good at it, even if I said so myself.

“How did you get into it?”

“When I got married, I organised my own wedding because I wanted everything to be perfect. And it was. It really was. We said our vows outside, the sun shone, all the children behaved, the food was served to perfection. A friend who came as a guest asked me to help plan her ceremony since I wasn’t working at that time, and because I was bored at home, I agreed. Then her cousin wanted to book me, and so did another acquaintance of theirs, and it just snowballed. Eventually, there was too much for me to do on my own, so I hired Annie and Kayla.”

“You’ve built up a good business.”

“Honestly? I earn more from my investments, but I like to keep busy. And I do love weddings, even if I’ll never get married again myself.”

Speaking of busy, I still needed to find somewhere for us to stay tonight. Hotels, motels, self-catering apartments… Nope, I didn’t need a swimming pool because I hadn’t packed a bathing suit. And I’d never use a gym, although perhaps Reed would like one. No way, that one had too many floors… I picked out a couple of possibles and fired off emails. What did they have available? Nobody put their best rates on those booking websites—I knew that from organising wedding accommodation.

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