“I’m just here to get drunk and eat candy,” Mrs. Penny said.
“There’s no candy here,” Riley lied.
Mrs. Penny kicked the leg of the table with her orthopedic shoe. “Well, this day just keeps getting better and better.”
Wander sniffed the air delicately, then wrinkled her nose. “Is that straight gin?”
“Yeah. I’m too depressed to mix a cocktail. Besides, hard-boiled detectives always have a drinking problem. It’s how they do their best work.” She took another long gulp through the straw.
“I take it Burt’s poop didn’t bust your case wide open?” Riley guessed.
Mrs. Penny wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her crap-brown argyle sweater. “The only lead I got from the lab is that you should be more careful what you feed your dog.”
“Me?”
The door behind them opened, and everyone turned to look at Tommy, who poked his head outside. “Sorry to bother you, but I’m doing a few loads of laundry. I’m happy to wash yours too. I make my own detergent.”
“Is it just me, or is that a huge turn-on?” Lily asked in a loud whisper.
“Definitely a huge turn-on,” Riley agreed.
“Is it warm out here, or is it just me?” Wander asked, fanning herself.
Mrs. Penny made a slurping sound with her straw.
24
9:08 a.m., Monday, October 28
“I’ve called you all here today—”
“To fire us?” Brian guessed, interrupting Nick.
“To grovel?” Josie tried. She was unpacking and reorganizing the weapons she carried in her cargo pants.
They were gathered in Nick’s office—which actually resembled an office again and not a repository of old case files and moldy fast food—for another staff meeting.
“If it’s to tell us that Bethame was never abducted and held hostage in an identity theft ring, Riley already told us,” Brian said.
“Was I supposed to keep that a secret?” Riley asked Nick.
She was perched on the corner of his desk. After seven whole hours of sleep, she was feeling perky. And thanks to her new butt-enhancing jeans and the hoodie Tommy had washed that now smelled like lemons, she was also feeling pretty cute.
“Where’s the bacon?” Mrs. Penny demanded from the couch. She was wearing a gamer headset around her neck.
Burt perked up at Riley’s feet at the word “bacon.”
“What bacon?” Riley asked.
“Someone calls a meeting for nine a.m., I expect bacon and Bloody Marys,” the elderly woman said, then shook the Bloody Mary pitcher she’d brought with her.
“Who brings a Bloody Mary to a business meeting?” Nick complained.
“Someone who’s expecting bacon. I brought enough for everyone. The least you can do is go fry up a pack of bacon. Some partner you’re turning out to be.”
Nick thumped his head on his desk. “What did I do in a past life to deserve this?” he moaned.
Riley patted him on the shoulder. “Would a Bloody Mary make you feel better?”
