“It’s a relationship map. A ranking of everyone who that girl most likely had sex with according to her social media interactions since the start of her various online profiles.”

Brian moves closer, taking better note of my display. He’s now gazing at it like it’s a piece of art hanging in the Louvre—squinting, tilting his head, contemplating. He peels off the Post-it with the name “Marcus Linton” on it and puts it back.

“Sorry for all the stickies. I found out on the boat last night and I didn’t have any Wi-Fi, so I started scribbling—”

“Why am I not on here?” he asks, pointing to the wall behind him.

“Excuse me?”

“If this is about all of the people who Gemma Sutherland might have slept with, then why am I not here?”

“Wait. How do you know who Gemma Sutherland is?”

“Her name is right here, Charlotte. Right in the middle of your...web?” He peels off the bright pink Post-it with her name and hands it to me as a reminder. “I mean, I know half these people from USC. Curious why Marcus Linton made the cut and I didn’t?”

“Are you really asking me this?” It feels like bad timing on his part, but I can’t help but explain my rationale. “I mean, besides her TA-ing at the same school you went to, there are zero links between the two of you. Same for Decker. Hence how I know she’s lying about getting pregnant with his child. Their connection starts and ends with him being a student in her socialism class. Your connection? Is nonexistent.”

“That’s interesting, because I did know her.”

I’m sure he means he knew of her and I feel bad that he seems devastated that a cute blonde with big boobs wanted nothing to do with him back in the college days. It’s times like this when I especially hate being the bearer of bad news, but you can’t argue with what the facts show. You can’t argue with what’s on the wall.

“Come on, Brian. Are you seriously annoyed this chick wasn’t into you? I know you can get anyone you want, but you wouldn’t want this one. Seriously. She seems certifiably insane. If anything, you should be glad I ruled you out.”

“Ruled me out?”

“Yeah, congrats. You’re not in the running to have had a rogue kid with this crazy, gold-digging woman. I mean, using her ex-student’s death to prey on his wealthy surviving family? Please. I’m not falling for it.”

“I don’t think this is healthy, Charlotte. Why don’t we take five on the couch? I’ll get some cold brew going. We can work on a crossword puzzle together.”

A puzzle? I just told Brian someone confronted me about having a secret baby with my dead husband. Now is not the time to be derailing me with coffee and crosswords.

“Yeah, sure. After we look these people up. Gemma was in love with someone, but it wasn’t Decker. I need to figure this out.”