Fed up

a third-rate, unoriginal, imitative, small-time hack!” Robin laughed condescendingly. “You’re nothing but a technician. If you think that you are ever going to be a filmmaker, you’re dreaming. You don’t have the talent. As a cameraman, you’re barely adequate!”
    “Oh, Robin.” Nelson spoke all too calmly. “I warned you. You have no idea what I have on film. I have so much! A great shot of you buying foxglove not too long ago. I bet you’d love that little sequence, my dear. It’s all right here, baby.” Nelson sneered and patted the camera that he held at his side. I had to wonder about his claim. Wouldn’t he have downloaded that footage?
    But Robin failed to share my doubt. She made a mad grab for Nelson’s camera. He, however, held it in a firm grip. I was furious! Josh had been more than justified in punching Emilio, and he’d done it in the kitchen before the wedding, not just outside the tent during the reception. Now, I wasn’t about to tolerate a physical altercation “Cut it out!” I demanded.
    Robin drew her leg in and then swiftly kicked Nelson smack on the kneecap. Nelson yelled out in pain, and as he fell to the ground, Robin wrestled the camera from his hands. While Nelson was clutching his knee and swearing, Robin jabbed at the camera in what seemed to be an inept effort to locate the part that held the recording.
    “You two are totally out of control!” I whispered angrily. “And don’t you dare ruin the wedding footage,” I warned.
    “Stay out of this, Chloe. It has nothing to do with you.” Robin turned the camera upside down and began trying to pry out its innards.
    Nelson snorted. “Actually, it has a lot to do with Chloe. Chloe was asking questions about—”
    I cut him off. “There has to be a way to work this out.”
    “Leave me alone!” Robin raised her voice. “Mind your own business, Chloe. And your boyfriend’s, too. I happen to know a lot more about Josh than you do, so maybe you should pay a little more attention to him and less to me.”
    “What are you talking about?” I asked, completely confused and momentarily distracted. “What do you know about Josh?”
    Robin halted her fiddling with the camera and looked smugly at me. “I know he’s not the chef at Simmer any longer. He quit. The new chef there is his supposed friend, Digger. Digger starts tomorrow. Marlee told me. You know how quickly restaurant gossip flies around.”
    Robin had to be out of her mind. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Robin. Josh would have told me if he’d left Simmer. And there is no way Digger would take Josh’s job. It’s an unwritten rule that you don’t take your friend’s job, no matter what the restaurant.”
    “How dumb can you be? You know these chefs. They all want to be stars. Digger wouldn’t hesitate to take a job on Newbury Street, even if it ticked off his good buddy. God, Chloe, you don’t know anything.” Robin laughed heartily.
    Nelson stood up, his knee apparently not permanently damaged. “On the contrary. Chloe knows quite a bit. In fact, she knows everything she needs to about you, Robin. She knows about Francie. And the foxglove. She must be waiting for this wedding to be over to call the police. Isn’t that right, Chloe? Just wait until my movie hits the Internet.”
    Robin’s face blanched.
    I’d underestimated Nelson. All along, he’d known that Robin had killed Francie, whose agonizing death had registered on him as nothing more than a sort of twisted docu-drama. As I was staring at Nelson, Robin, camera in hand, bolted toward the street and her car. Dammit! She was welcome to whatever evidence the camera held, which was not the only evidence of her guilt. Among other things, Hector, Nelson, and I could testify. But that camera was valuable: it held the only recording of Adrianna’s wedding! And I was not about to let Robin destroy irreplaceable images so precious to my best friend. I took a few steps back and grabbed one of the shotguns that Evan and Willie had stashed in the plants by the entrance to the tent. I knew that those shotguns weren’t loaded, of course. But Robin didn’t share my knowledge.
    I assumed my best gun-toting stance, or what I imagined that a gun-toting stance should be, and hollered at Robin. “Stop or I’ll shoot!” Those words from my mouth? Whoever would have thought?
    A second later, I heard a shot and saw Robin fall to the ground, facedown. Blood quickly stained the back of