Page 45 of Total Jane Wreck

“I’d gone for a hike.”

Okay. That’s true, even if it’s not the full truth.

“I’ve gotten more into hiking lately.”

Also true.

“Plus, I’m not really the biggest party person.”

Very, very true.

“Were you hiking alone, Miss Adkins?” Theo asks.

Chet’s eyes grow wide, and from behind Theo, he gives the smallest of nods.

“Yes,” I whisper. Like if I say it softly, it won’t be a lie.

My heart is in my throat.

Theo knits his brow. For a moment, I worry he’ll press me. Because—come on—it’s gotta be clear how easily I’d break under pressure. But he just says, “How long were you gone?”

Shrugging, I smile like a maniac. “A couple of hours, perhaps.” Now my voice is too high, too loud, too perky. “I went for my hike, all by myself, and watched the fireworks from up along the ridge. Then I felt bad, because the horses were probably spooked—they hate fireworks—so I returned . . .” my chest hitches “. . . all by myself.”

Axel Rose lets out a little cough. Chet presses his fingers to his closed eyes and winces. I shift my weight, wishing I could make a run for it.

Theo’s brow furrows. “Yes. We’ve established that you were alone. Then what happened?”

“Well . . .” I swallow, and my throat’s like sandpaper. “Everyone was crowding the blue barn. My first thought was something bad had happened to one of the horses, so I ran to see how I could help. And there was Mason, with a hoof knife in his back. But whoever had stabbed him was long gone.”

Theo’s manner is gentle, but I bet that with every blink, he’s running a background check inside his head. “Did you interact with Mason before the incident?”

“Yes,” I reply. About this, there is no point in lying. “Chet introduced me to his mom and stepdad earlier in the day.” I glance at Chet, who’s pointedly looking away from me. “And before that, Marigold Sanders introduced me to Mason. That was about it.”

Theo’s eyes flick to the side. “Marigold Sanders, the author?”

“Yeah,” I say.

Theo makes a note. “My fiancée is friends with her. Plus, she’s obsessed with her books.”

“Emma! She’s just the sweetest. And I love The Pretty Pinecone.”

The moment I say it, I regret it—this isn’t girl talk at a wine bar, it’s a police interview. But maybe it softens Theo. He looks up, and his face opens into a real, if tired, smile. “Right. Emma mentioned you. She’s excited that you’re joining the Spicy Reads Book Club.”

Where we definitely won’t be drinking wine, I think but don’t say. Then I laugh. “She convinced me to buy twice my weight in romance novels.”

He snorts and closes his notepad. “Nothing wrong with a good love story. Anyway . . .” The warmth in his tone evaporates. He glances at Chet, at Axel Rose, then back at me. “Is there anything else you’d like to report?”

“Only that the blue barn was recently renovated. Chet’s—” I pause. “His aunt Grace is staying there. Maybe she saw something?”

Chet’s jaw tightens; the hard line of his mouth suggests a storm is brewing. Immediately, I wish I could take the words back and stuff them down my own throat with a pitchfork. But it’s too late.

Theo seems surprised. “Did anyone check in with this Grace?”

Chet’s voice is smooth and civil but shot through with warning. “She’s a night owl, and something of a recluse.”

Theo looks at his watch. “You think she’s still asleep?”

“Probably,” Chet says.