Epilogue
One Year Later
They went someplace warm for Christmas, but the man holding her hand looked as cool as the breeze that blew off the dark blue
water. The island was tiny and Greek, with narrow streets and steep hillsides, white stucco houses and views of the sea. If
it hadn’t been for the staticky carols coming out of an old radio in someone’s window, Maggie might have even forgotten to
be nervous.
It was the first time in forever that she hadn’t spent the whole year worrying about December. Possibly because she hadn’t
had time. But more than likely, it had something to do with the man beside her.
His eyes were hidden behind dark glasses, and he was wearing a linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up, showing off his forearms
and a brand-new tattoo.
“I still can’t believe you did that.”
“What?” He held up his arm and eyed the small circle with the words From the personal library of Margaret Elizabeth Chase . “I don’t have a title page. It was the best I could do.”
“You’re ridiculous.” She really needed to stop smiling. It only encouraged him.
“I know! But you’re stuck with me...” He swung their joined hands, thinking a beat before finishing, “ Loralee. ”
Maggie almost tripped over her own feet. “What did you just say?”
“Loralee. Shayne.” He spoke the words slowly, enunciating every syllable in turn and Maggie gulped.
“I’m afraid I don’t know who that is.”
“Really? Because the lip you always bite when you lie says otherwise.” Maggie immediately stopped biting her lip, but it was
too late. He knew. And, oh , was he smug. “I told you I’d find the fourth pen name.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Monster books, Maggie! Monster f—”
“We’re not talking about this.”
“Oh, we are absolutely talking about this.” He pulled her closer and whispered in her ear, “Later. Later we are going to talk about this in very”—he
kissed her—“specific”—he kissed her again—“detail.”
“How did you even... How?”
“It’s an anagram of Eleanor Ashley.” He gave her a look that said give me some credit . But then, just as quickly, he stopped smiling, and Ethan Freaking Wyatt seemed almost embarrassed to admit, “Besides, I’d
know your voice anywhere. You’re my Eleanor.”
“Oh.” She straightened the collar of his shirt even though it didn’t need it. “You keep saying things like that and I’m going
to get a little crush on you.”
“Promise?”?’
They were midkiss when her phone beeped.
“Deborah?” Ethan guessed. “You didn’t tell her where we are, did you?”
“Of course not!” Maggie was still digging in her bag. “She probably just wants to know if I’m going to blurb Sir Jasper’s
new book.”
“Are you?”
“Uh. It’s about a detective who is poisoned at a country house party, dies, and then comes back as a ghost to solve his own
murder! It’s called The Specter Inspector ! Of course, I’m going to blurb it!”
Ethan laughed and said, “Good,” just as she found her phone.
“Not Deborah.” She held it up so he could see.
Duchess: Please let me know how it goes. If you find her, please tell her... I’m still here. And I’m ready to play.
Suddenly, Maggie’s heart began to race because they were doing this. This was happening. This was—
“Hey.” The hand holding hers tightened. “She’s going to love you.”
They were the same words he’d used a year before while zipping up her dress and looking into her eyes and reading on her soul
what she needed to hear. He’d been right then.
“But what if we’re wrong?” Maggie almost couldn’t get the words out. “What if she’s not here? What if—”
Ethan cut her off with a kiss.
“Then we keep looking. But we’re not wrong,” he said as his gaze drifted over her shoulder.
“But how can you possibly know that? The whole world has spent the last year looking for Eleanor Ashley! The best detectives
on the planet and the craziest people on the internet. How can you stand there, utterly certain that we found her?”
But Ethan didn’t say a thing. He just smiled as a bright, clear voice came flying on the wind. “Because she’s right behind
you.”
It was a year to the day since Maggie turned to find Eleanor Ashley waiting on the steps of Mistletoe Manor, but she no longer
looked like the Duchess of Death. This time, her home was small and white with stucco walls and wide-open windows. Gauzy curtains
blew in the breeze as Eleanor led them inside, past the cane that was hanging on the wall because Eleanor didn’t need her
daggers anymore.
“Look who finally found us!”
Maggie and Ethan looked at each other and mouthed Us? just as James came in from the courtyard.
“I told you they’d be here soon.” James gave Eleanor a swift kiss. “I suppose we should get started on dinner. Ellie?”
Ellie? Maggie and Ethan mouthed again.
But Eleanor never took her eyes off Maggie. “Can you get started without me, love? I’d like to show our guests the view.”
The courtyard was small, with plants climbing trellises and scaling the side of the house, an arching umbrella of green vines
and red blooms shielding it from the rest of the world.
Eleanor looked at peace in that dappled light. “They’re called bougainvillea.” She fingered a soft red petal. “And, yes, parts
of them are slightly poisonous, but let’s keep that between us.”
Her gaze fell on Ethan’s arm as it draped across Maggie’s shoulders. Her lips tipped up and her blue eyes sparkled, but Eleanor
Ashley would never be so gauche as to smile. No. It was a look that said Well, what do we have here? and I told you so and You’re welcome all at once, and Maggie thought for the millionth time that she didn’t just owe her career to that woman. She owed her for
everything. But, most of all, she owed her for him .
“Well...” Eleanor raised an eyebrow.
Maggie had spent a whole year thinking about that moment, and she wanted to ask a million questions—say a thousand things.
About the new imprint and the new books. About her life and her love and the way the world was more Eleanor-mad than ever.
Maggie wanted to ask her if she was happy. If it was worth it.
She wanted to say thank you.
But what came out was—
“How’d you do it? How’d you get out of the locked room?”
Ethan chuckled but Maggie couldn’t even scold him, not with Eleanor standing there, breeze in her hair, mischievous smile
on her face. She’d disappeared in a blizzard but was reborn in the sun and there was no doubt, no question, no chance that
the world would ever know her equal.
So it was perhaps fitting that she just shrugged. And said, “I’m Eleanor Ashley.”
And, somehow, that was answer enough. Ethan’s arms tightened around Maggie, pulling her closer as the sun set on the far side
of the sea. And when she leaned against him, she couldn’t help but feel like maybe there are some mysteries that are better
left unsolved, some questions better left unanswered.
Because sometimes it’s enough just to have been there for the most wonderful crime of the year.