"That's no lens I've ever seen. They're supposed to be big. You don't even need a hand to support it." Barbie tapped my phone, moving the screen and making me lose my shot.

I readjusted and snapped a photo of Bert and Harold. "My big camera is in storage."

In Maine.

My fingers hovered over the screen, and I flicked them out, zooming in as much as possible. The two men stood beside a pile of sand, talking to one another. Harold grabbed a club from his bag attached to the cart and walked over. He stood with his club out and wiggled his butt before pulling his arms back and swinging. The ball shot off, and I continued snapping pictures, covering his entire swing.

"It doesn't look like anything fishy from here." Not that I knew what something fishy in golf would look like. I'd have to have an expert analyze the photos. Although I doubted he was doing something so openly. Otherwise, Bert would have noticed.

Bert lined up a shot after Harold, and Barbie leaned out into the open slot of the golf cart. "He's going to go right with that stance." He swung, and the ball sailed right. "Told you. That's why he can't win a game."

"You don't think Harold is cheating?"

Barbie pressed her foot on the gas, and we inched forward as the two men moved into their cart and continued right down the path. I kept my phone trained on them, just in case.

"Oh, no. Harold is definitely cheating. They're both horrible, but Harold's not good enough to win so many times."

I captured a few more pictures as the men stopped beside a flag and took their time selecting new clubs. They put a lot of thought into everything they pulled out of the bag. Harold even stuck two back in and used his third choice.

"Oh shit," Barbie said and jerked forward in her seat, putting her in front of the wheel again. "It's the popo."

"What?" My question came too late.

Barbie slammed her foot against the gas. Our tires spun, and we skidded off the sidewalk, going into the thick grass. "We're gonna have to ditch."

"What does that mean?" I grabbed on to the side again and held on for dear life as she jerked the wheel to the left, putting all her weight into it, and we drove into a cluster of pine trees. Needles scratched my arms as the heavy branches stopped our forward momentum.

"Let's go." Barbie grabbed Biscuit's leash and jumped from the golf cart before we'd come to a complete stop. The leash jerked against his neck, and he growled before leaping out with her.

I scooped up NB and slid off the seat, headed in their direction. Was this considered a hit and run or only fleeing a crime scene? Shit, it was probably both. Barbie's mad dash out of the golf course stopped at the edge of a small fence as she walked along it toward a metal gate.

"That was fun," she said, unlatching the gate and holding it open for NB and me.

Fun? She was deranged.

I loved it!

"Yeah, but let's never do it again." I really didn't need Dalton to add a sixth item to his list of "not to dos." If I wasn't careful, he'd eventually have a book.

Barbie demanded we head the long way to avoid suspicion, so we cut around the island through the beach and ended up on the main strip of stores.

"We'll need to buy something, so we have a timed receipt," Barbie said as she handed me Biscuit's leash and popped into the bakery. She and Peggy exchanged what I assumed were unpleasant words since Peggy never had anything nice to say. It was all "don't sit there" and "eat outside" with the bakery owner.

"Thanks," I said as she passed me a chocolate muffin. Eventually, I'd have to give her the talk about cupcakes just being lunch muffins. Everything tasted better with frosting. And it was late enough that a cupcake was perfectly acceptable at this time of day.

She folded over a piece of paper and stuck it in her pants suit pocket. "Now we have an alibi."

"Definitely," I only semi-lied. Unless Peggy's register was off by thirty minutes, we didn't have a solid alibi. But we had a start. It gave us plausible deniability.

"Biscuit and I will walk you back to the resort," she said before crossing the street and heading toward the main island building.

I finished my unfrosted cupcake and tossed the wrapper into a street trash can.

"How did the Stitch and Bitch night go?" she asked as we passed the Stitchin' Stories store front.

I waved at Harvard through the large glass window as we passed. He held up a book and waved back before stuffing it in a brown bag for the customer checking out. "Good. I still haven't learned to knit, though."

Eventually, Broadrick was going to expect a finished scarf. I'd have to sneak in an Etsy purchase and hope he didn't notice.

I'd also used last night's meeting to ask about Melissa and Larken. They'd never been involved in the biweekly meetup. Harvard told me that one time Larken bought a crochet hook to support the store's opening. The next week melissa took up knitting. She'd spent five hundred dollars on supplies and then posted them on her business Facebook page.

That meant the knitting needle found in Melissa's ear might have belonged to her, but it didn't explain why she'd have knitting needles with her in a home listing.

"What do you know about the woman who owns Stitchin' Stories?" I asked Barbie before we made the last turn toward the resort.

"Cady?" Barbie clarified and then continued at my nod. "Her father's a real wanker, but he's loaded. She used inheritance money from her grandmother to start the shop a few years ago. Her father spent the next month telling everyone how her little idea keeps her busy until she finds something to do with her life."

"What does he want her to do?" I slowed my steps, so we didn't make it to the resort before she answered.

Barbie stopped walking. "Marry someone rich and give him grandchildren. Obviously. Those types are all the same. Women are only good for procreating little boys to take over the family businesses."

"I've never met her." Even though I'd been to the shop multiple times and a few weekend gossip sessions, she'd never been there.

Biscuit wrapped his leash around Barbie's legs, and I helped to untangle it before she tripped. "That is a question I cannot answer. She could have a double life."

"Right." I laughed.

Although... what if she did?

I'd have to investigate that after I finished this murder business.

Besides learning how petty the feud between Melissa and Larken went, last night didn't give me any new insights into the murder. Unfortunately, it meant I couldn't take Larken off my suspect list. I had to keep digging until I figured out what caused their competition. When did it start and why?

And how far would one of them go to win?

A new sign with an arrow to the left pointed toward the PBSecurity office and I jolted. Shit. I had a lunch date with Broadrick. A quick check of my cell phone showed it was well after two.

"Shit, Barbie. I've got to go. I forgot something important."

She chuckled. "Oh, to be young and have plans."

"Bye." I gave her a quick wave and started a quick walk toward the new offices.

Dalton, in his signature black polo shirt and perfectly done hair, met me at the front door.

I skidded to a stop in front of him. "Are you tracking me?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Should I be?"

"Well, what are you doing out here just waiting for me like a creeper?"

Dalton gave me a deep sigh and ran his hand through his short hair. "Believe it or not, Ms. Vines, I do occasionally use this door to enter and exit the building."

"A likely story." I walked past him and into the building. He wanted me to believe that we both just accidentally were at the door at the same time. I think not. It sounded super fishy.

Broadrick stood beside the front desk while the secretary with her brown hair wrapped up in a high bun cried lightly beside him.

"What did you say to her?" I pointed at the secretary. If they weren't going to give me the job, they at least had to be nice to the one they did.

Broadrick's eyes flashed wide as NB ran at him. I dropped the leash so he could jump on his father. "Me? I was consoling."

"You're obviously doing a crap job at it," I said, walking up to the desk. "Who do we need to kill?"

The secretary, Cary, sniffled and raised her head. She wiped away a loose tear and gave me half a smile. "Someone said they found an abandoned golf cart on the course and expect me to get it and send it to processing for testing."

"When Cary calmly explained that's not our job..." Broadrick picked up the story when Cary's sniffles stopped her. "The club manager said some unsavory things."

"Oh, we ride at dawn." I balled my fist and hit the air.

Broadrick wrapped his arm around my shoulders. "Let's not and say we did."

He never let anyone have any fun.