A Very Merry Manual for Murder (Brambleberry Bay Murder Club #8)

Chapter 1

One hour from now…

The Victim

This is absolutely perfect.

I’m standing in this gaudy lounge surrounded by pearl-clutching socialites and their ridiculous lingerie display, and all I can think about is how spectacularly this story is going to destroy everyone here.

The photos I’m taking right now will ruin careers. The commentary I’m already composing in my head will turn their carefully constructed lives into viral cautionary tales. Each shot is another nail in their social coffins, and I’m the one holding the hammer.

The uptight manager thinks she can intimidate me with her threats and her corporate speak.

She has no idea I’ve already dug up dirt on her financial indiscretions.

A few well-timed posts about mismanaged funds and creative accounting, and her career will implode faster than a cheap Christmas ornament.

That designer with her fake accent keeps shooting me nervous glances, probably worried I’ll expose her working-class origins and fabricated European training. One reverse image search and some digging into her past, and her entire brand becomes a punchline.

The flour-dusted baker looks like she wants to stuff me into one of her desserts. She’s still pouting from my review that called her confections aggressively mediocre. Tonight’s photos of her desperate attempt to cater this disaster will finish what I started.

I’m drunk on the power of it all. The ability to destroy reputations with a single post, to turn successful businesses into bankruptcy cases, to prove that no one—no matter how wealthy or well-connected—is safe from my particular brand of digital justice.

By tomorrow morning, half these people will be unemployed. By next week, the country club’s reputation will be in shambles. By next month, I’ll be fielding offers from major media outlets who want to hire the society columnist who single-handedly brought down Maine’s most exclusive establishment.

This is going to be the story that launches me into the big leagues.

After all, Christmas is the season of giving—and I’m about to give everyone here exactly what they deserve.