“Then your guess is as good as mine,” said Charlie. “Everyone here seems so chill between murder attempts.”
Nora leaned her head back against the cushion with an exhausted sigh. “Patty was the last one to use the oven, right? And then she told you to come here, alone.”
“Wait, I thought you thought it was Phil.”
“I did. Or maybe Ruby. But it could be Patty, couldn’t it?”
“She does have too many dried starfish to be completely stable. Wait, you think it could be Granny? She’s like a hundred, isn’t she?”
Before Nora could reply, the front door opened and Patty wafted in. Her pale blue shirt was smudged with ash. Charlie and Nora exchanged a quick look that said something to the effect of “oh shit” as Charlie swung his feet off the table. Nora decided that was a wise choice. If Patty already had some kind of motivation for killing Charlie, she didn’t need further validation.
“You kids okay?” Patty asked as she slumped down into the armchair near the couch. “How’s the parrot?”
Charlie pulled Jessica in closer to his chest protectively. “She’ll be all right.”
“And so are we,” Nora added quickly, standing up to leave. “But you must be exhausted. If things are under control back at Ruby and Richard’s, we can leave you to rest.”
Nora studied her aunt, waiting for a protest at their leaving, or a sign of disappointment at their well-being, but instead she got a “Thanks, I’m pretty tuckered out.”
On the walk home, neither twin seemed fully capable of tying their thoughts to their tongues. Nora tried twice, only managing a few odd sounds that contained too many vowels. She was exhausted, too little sleep and too much attempted murder pressing down on her, turning her limbs to lead and her mind to the consistency of pudding. The whole thing seemed to be taking a similar toll on Charlie, though he eventually remembered how to form words.
“We okay to sleep under the same roof as Ruby tonight?” he said at last.
Nora shrugged. Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, they didn’t have anywhere else to go. There wasn’t a single person in town they could trust. At least (Nora was pretty sure) she could take on Ruby if it came down to that, though she really, really didn’t want it to come down to that. The thought of a physical altercation with anyone, even an octogenarian, gave her heartburn. All it took was a hit at the right angle to send a bone from your nose straight into your brain and then boom, dead. Though given the current pudding-like texture of her brain, she half wondered if that move would still be fatal. Clearly exhaustion-fueled delirium had taken full effect. She found her tongue.
“We’ll lock the bedroom door tonight.”
“That won’t do a whole lot of good if they actually manage to burn the house down this time,” Charlie replied.
“I really hate this town,” said Nora.
16
They returned to the little red house to find it empty of all but its primary residents. Ruby had gone to bed while Richard finished cleaning up the mess in the kitchen. The walls directly around the oven were singed, and the coat of ash on the floor was currently being herded into neat piles by Richard’s broom, but otherwise the room seemed as it had been. Nora walked in, grabbed the dustpan from the counter, and held it for Richard, in part to be helpful and in part to distract him while Charlie scrambled downstairs with the contraband Jessica, hoping not to be seen.
“Thanks,” Richard said, smiling over the ash at his granddaughter.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” said Nora. “You and Vince seemed to have everything under control. It was impressive. Not something I could’ve done. Fires are terrifying. I don’t even like birthday candles.”
Richard gave a hearty chuckle at that. “I’m sure you’d do just fine in an emergency. You are a Bird, after all. We’re built of tough stuff. Even Charles.”
Nora emptied the dustpan into the garbage under the sink, swallowing her disagreement with a polite smile. She might be a Bird, but she was built mostly of multivitamins and anxiety.
Charlie materialized in the doorway and gave Nora a discreet thumbs-up. Jessica had been safely smuggled back into the bedroom. Nora gave a small nod back, then looked at Richard as he struggled to his feet.
“Any idea how the fire started?” she asked as casually as possible. Charlie sidled up beside her, his own interest less subtly worn on his face.
“It’s the strangest thing,” said Richard. “Some of the oven’s wire covers were cut, leaving the wires exposed.”
“Cut?” Nora echoed. Charlie gave her a look that said, “Yup, that tracks for a murderer.”
“Well, damaged,” Richard quickly corrected. “It seemed to be working just fine yesterday, but I suppose that’s what happens when you use the same appliances for too long. I’ll have to get Phil down here tomorrow to see what he can do with the old thing.”
“Phil,” Nora echoed again, temporarily forgetting how to form words of her own. Phil had been there that morning, then again that afternoon. He had the tools and the knowledge to do something like this. Nora still couldn’t quite fathom why he’d want to, but right now thewhydidn’t matter as much as thewhoand thehow, so it would remain anifrather than awhen.
“Oh that’s right, he’ll be working on your car tomorrow, won’t he?”
“Car,” Nora repeated.
