Free Strawberry Tartlets and a Dead Starlet by A. Gardner

problem," Presley answers.
    The car remains silent for a few minutes as we turn onto a main road.
    "It was dark." Frankie breaks the silence—speaking quieter than normal. "I couldn't see much. I was taking a quick five-minute break like I normally do during last call cocktails, and then…bam. I hit the water."
    "Maybe you slipped?" I suggest.
    "No, I think I was pushed."
    "Who would do that?" I immediately blurt out. Frankie shrugs, but I already know the answer to my question. Frankie knows things. Maybe, like Presley, she knows things about Lacy Leigh that she shouldn't.
    The person who pushed her overboard could be Lacy's killer.

 
CHAPTER ELEVEN
     
    Bree's hands are shaking as she sips her morning tea. I eagerly take a sip of my salted caramel coffee and take off my sunglasses as I glance out the window. The kitchen at Magnolia Harbor is still closed, and the two of us went into town this morning for a light breakfast. Bree eyes the collection of pastries I selected from behind the counter—two almond croissants and an order of beignets covered in powdered sugar.
    "I know we should be enjoying our time off, but I think I might go crazy if the kitchen doesn't open soon," Bree says quietly.
    "Well, it's not exactly time off now is it? We're under investigation at the moment. I can barely sleep."
    "I talked to the spa staff last night," Bree responds. "They saw nothing. They weren't even here the day Lacy arrived. I guess the Masons canceled their couples massage, and Mr. Wheeler claims that stone massages and fancy oils are no better than voodoo."
    "He's a bit of a grump," I confess.
    "Ford stopped by to grab some of Gilly's equipment." Bree carefully bites into a beignet and immediately dabs the corners of her mouth with a napkin. "Turns out Detective Sugars and Gilly played on the same high school football team. Apparently, they didn't get along back then. Or now."
    "Small world," I reply. "That explains why he needed a breather after his interview."
    "Tell me about last night." Bree sips her tea and waits for me to talk about the dinner cruise. I taste a tiny morsel of almond croissant, but my stomach is still sour from last night. If anything, talking to Frankie just confirmed that there was someone out there with unfinished business, and I have no idea who or what they want.
    "You're not going to believe this, but something crazy happened."
    "I knew it." Bree giggles, holding up her teacup. "Presley kissed you. Did I call it or what?"
    "Yeah, yeah." I take a sip of my coffee. "You're so clever."
    "I told you I know his type," she answers. "So does this mean you figured out what he's hiding from us?"
    "Yes and no," I explain. "I think he might've seen something he shouldn't have, but the problem is that he has no idea what it could be."
    "That would mean that the killer will return," Bree points out. "I mean, assuming that the killer really was after Presley the first time. We still can't be one hundred percent sure of that."
    "Funny you should bring that up," I continue. "There's more." I take a deep breath. "I saw Frankie last night."
    "So was she on the cruise too?" Bree's eyes widen.
    "Sort of. She works on the boat."
    "No way," Bree mutters. "Please tell me you took advantage of that little detail."
    "I asked her about Lacy," I respond. "I asked her if the two of them were friends and if she knew what Lacy was up to while she was here, and…"
    "It didn't go well?" Bree guesses.
    "It went horribly." I sigh. "She basically said she was sworn to secrecy and that I might as well pump Lacy's aunt for information."
    "That means she was a good friend of Lacy's, and she does know something she's not saying," Bree responds. "It's progress."
    I nod, slowly sipping my coffee as I contemplate the events of last night—seeing Frankie serving drinks, dancing under the stars, the stranger on the top deck, and Frankie's plunge into the ocean. Whoever pushed her will be back for more.
    "Frankie was pushed overboard," I