Chapter 45

  

Penelope sat in front of the fireplace at the inn, still shivering. She clasped a mug of hot cocoa in her palms while Arlena gently rubbed her hair with a towel. The on-set medic checked her over, determining she’d be okay after warming up and resting. Bailey had called Marla from his campsite, letting her know he’d fished Penelope from the creek in the woods and to come get them. When she’d driven them down the trail to the inn, Marla and Arlena had stripped Penelope’s wet clothes off and wrapped her in warm blankets from the dryer.

“Slight hypothermia,” the medic said, taking another look at Penelope’s fingers. Bailey and Regina sat together at a nearby table, watching Penelope and drinking their own mugs of hot chocolate. Marla came up from the basement with freshly warmed blankets thrown over her arm and fussed over Penelope, swapping out the cooled ones and draping fresh ones around her.

“Thank you, Marla,” Penelope said, still shivering. “And thanks for calling the sheriff.”

“You’ll get warm soon,” Marla said abruptly. “More cocoa?”

Penelope nodded and she bustled away, bumping into Sheriff Bryson in the doorway.

“So, you got lost in the woods and ended up in the river?”

“Hello to you too, Sheriff,” Marla scolded.

The sheriff looked at her sheepishly. “Sorry, Marla. It’s been a rough week.”

“You’re telling me,” she said, hurrying away.

The medic left after giving Arlena instructions.

“I was drugged. By Megan Foster. She served me a Wicked Game. Pineapple juice!” Penelope shouted. Everyone turned to look at her.

“What?” Sheriff Bryson asked.

“She said that was their special drink. Jordan had pineapple juice in his stomach when he died. Megan drugged him and strangled him. If he was lying on his stomach on the floor, she would put her knees on the small of his back and pull the rope. That’s what made those bruises.”

Everyone stared silently at Penelope.

“I’m not crazy. That’s what happened. Megan drugged me the same way she drugged Jordan, then she drove me to the river to make it look like I had an accident and drowned.”

“This is so hard to believe,” Sheriff Bryson said. “This kind of thing doesn’t happen here.”

Penelope’s eyes flashed. “You can’t say that anymore, because it does. You know I’m right. This is what she does…drugs people and stages accidents, or suicides.”

Bailey raised his hand from his seat at the table.

“Yes, son?” the sheriff asked.

He shook his head. “It wasn’t Mrs. Foster in the truck. It was Ava.” Regina nodded as he spoke. “We saw her drive by.”

“Can you help me get dressed?” Penelope asked Arlena. “And I have to stop by Sybil’s suite too.”