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You can theorize all you want, do it until you’re blue in the face, but there’s not a snowball’s chance in Arizona Dana Nelson hurt Sophia Fleming. Whether she said no to his question or not. A question we don’t even know he asked.”
    “Good enough. Now, do you think she was killed on sight, or brought there afterward?”
    I stuck the tip of my pen in my mouth and considered that. “You know, that’s a steep decline, and while Sophia was petite, it’s still a haul to carry a limp body down our rickety stairs to get to the boat, if the killer did it somewhere else. Unless the killer works out—a lot. I didn’t note any scuffle, but I imagine a scuffle would be pretty hard to see with the tide washing it away. Which makes the beach a pretty perfect place to dump a body. Also, why would she go back to the beach after her date with Dana anyway?”
    “No one said she went back, Dove. Maybe she never left…”
    Again, I shook my head. Dana was many things, a PITA among them because he was so by the book; he’d prevented me from snooping when I’d been wrapped up in Madam Zoltar’s murder—and Tito’s, too. But a killer he ain’t.
    “Sorry, Spy Guy, but that’s a no go. No way Dana had anything to do with it. So let’s mark the origin of the murder as unknown for now and come back to it.”
    “Okay, so a robbery gone wrong?”
    “There’s always that,” I agreed on a nod. “Maybe she had cash on her? Or some valuable jewelry. But if robbery was the motive, why was her credit card, or maybe it was a debit card, still in her purse? I saw it on the ground when it spilled.”
    “Let’s move on to something else. Like placement of the body. Anything to suggest this was a ritual killing? Anything significant at all that stands out?”
    My eyes grew grainier by the second as I squinted into the kitchen and thought. “You mean like a serial killing? I guess anything’s possible, but I didn’t see anything suggesting there was a ritual to the technique. But then what do I know? It simply looked like someone placed her back in the boat. In fact, if I didn’t know better, if I hadn’t seen the gunshot wound, I’d have thought she was napping, she was set there so carefully. Her shoes were still on, her hair was mussed but there could be several reasons for that. The wind at the beach, or maybe a little snuggling with Officer Nelson… Her clothes weren’t in disarray at all.”
    “Her purse? How did Whiskey come upon her purse, Bel?”
    “It was right there on the ground by the boat, Winterbutt. She must’ve had it in her hand or something just before…well, you know. It was right next to the boat in the sand. Big guy here got to it before I had the chance to,” he said with a tiny tremor against my neck.
    “Which leads us to the contents of the purse. What did you see aside from the credit card?” Win coaxed.
    “Lipstick, a drugstore brand I’ve seen before. Like I said earlier, credit or debit card, can’t be sure, but it definitely had her name on it, keys and… Oh! I forgot!” I shouted, that tingle of mine kicking into high gear. I’d forgotten about the postcard and what was written on the back. “There was a postcard. One that came from Madam Zoltar’s.”
    “Did she write something on it, Stevie?”
    The words I’d read had more impact now than they had when I’d first read them, knowing almost certainly they were Sophia’s. I had to swallow hard to get the words out.
    Leaning forward, resting my head in my hands, I nodded, feeling worse than I had just moments ago, if that were possible. “It wasn’t signed, but there was definitely a message. If that was Sophia’s postcard, it makes sense, I suppose.”
    “What she’d write, Boss?” Bel asked.
    My throat grew tight as I recalled the words and repeated them out loud. “I think I found the one. Wish you were here. Love you to the moon and back.”

Chapter 4
    W e all sat silently for a moment as we digested the words. The