Well isn’t Cape Cod just cheerful as hell on this sunny Thursday afternoon? “He couldn’t have shot himself straight on in the forehead like that.” CHAPTER 3 “It has to be murder, right?” I say, mostly to myself.
And now that the adrenaline of discovering a murder victim is beginning to wear off, I’m getting a strong case of the get-the-hell-out-of-heres. We’re trying to focus on what the police officer is saying from his seated position on the coffee table in front of us, but we have now given him our statements three times each. Out of the crime scene while Jude and I watch it all happen with our jaws in our laps. There is definitely a huge black bag being wheeled out of the house by medical examiners. Unless…maybe this is a very vivid nightmare? But me? I doubt I’ll ever forget the sight of that murdered man as long as I live. The pithy hosts won’t pronounce my name correctly. Of course, the years of therapy I will need to recover won’t even be mentioned in the show notes. I’m the innocent bystander who stumbled upon the macabre scene. I’m trapped in an episode of Etched in Bone. This is not supposed to happen in real life. I’m wrapped in a blanket, awash in the glow of flashing blue lights. “So, someone owns this place and rents it out? I can’t imagine anyone not wanting to live here year round.” CHAPTER 2 Not when you’ve scored us this view.” Jude adjusts the surfboard under his arm.
“No one needs a whole napkin if they eat carefully enough,” I sing back cheerfully. I guess ripping your napkins in half paid off.” Wheeling my suitcase in one hand, holding the house key poised for immediate lock insertion in the other, I look back over my shoulder to find life returning to Jude’s boyishly handsome features. My toes are already wiggling in anticipation of digging into the sand while the New England sun bakes my skin north of translucent and most importantly of all, my baby brother gets a change of scenery to recover from his heartbreak. The bright white jewel with sparkling windows is right on the Cape Cod coast, boasts a wraparound porch and walkway straight down to a semi-private beach. It is only through pinching pennies and rationing resources for years that I have been able to afford this truly luxurious beach house for six whole days-on a second grade teacher’s salary. To all the people who’ve called me cheap in the past… My Killer Vacation, An all-new, spicy murder mystery from Tessa Bailey, New York Times bestselling author of It Happened One Summer CHAPTER 1
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