“Yes! And I told him I need protection, because I’m not safe. They’re going to realize they got Natalie by mistake. Because of the hair.” She tugs on a brunette beach wave and gives a high-pitched whine. “Why did I dye my stupid hair? It’s obvious what happened.”

“It’s…compelling,” I finally say. “How did you two end up in near-identical dresses?”

It’s a coincidence piled on top of a coincidence. Could Morgan have really been the target? Natalie or Morgan. Morgan or Natalie. This murder investigation just got more complicated.

Morgan grimaces. “I don’t know,” she eventually says, a little too evenly. “But from behind, we’d look the same.”

Almost. I’d spotted those Swarovski crystals easily enough. But perhaps someone with a murderous agenda, high on the adrenaline of the hunt, wouldn’t notice. They’d only see a seafoam-green gown and long dark hair.

“What if they realize they got the wrong person and come after me now?” Morgan whines. “They could try again tonight. The actual night of homecoming.”

“The dance has been canceled,” Ben throws in.

“I know,” Morgan says. “But symbolically.”

“I’m sure if the sheriff didn’t take it seriously, it’s because they know something we don’t,” Ben says.

I can tell he’s trying to reassure Morgan. Which is sweet, but I’m not so sure. It’s a tiny town…. Does Morgan really think the sheriff’s department has a protective detail available?

“Like Cecelia said, they’re interviewing everyone at WestonCon, so if it was a fan of the books, they’ll catch them,” Ben adds. “I wouldn’t worry.” He reaches across the table to pat Morgan on the hand.

Morgan isn’t placated. “I’m not stupid. There’s a whole other possibility. A worse one.”

My brain has been clicking together the pieces Morgan’s working with. Things I’ve wondered, too. “The book was based on a real murder,” I supply.

Morgan nods emphatically. “Of my great-aunt. Who I look a lot like. When I’m blond, at least.” Morgan drops her voice to a whisper. “I know nobody talks about it in this town, but my grandpa thinks Joe Bedecki is innocent.”

“Who’s Joe Bedecki?” I ask as Ben draws in a sharp breath. He and Morgan share a look. Yet another Seaview secret.

“The janitor,” Ben says. “The killer,” he adds for my benefit. “He was convicted. They found evidence in his office. A pair of her panties.”

“Panties?” He gets a healthy dose of side-eye from me.

“That’s how they put it on true-crime shows,” he mumbles.

“Who did your granddad think it was?” I narrow in on Morgan.

“I don’t know. He just always rants about it, though only when he gets really soused. Like on Thanksgiving. Super Bowl. Times like that.”

“Wait, he’s alive?”