Gordon opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was another booming hiccup. Quickly, he shut it again.
“Are we soup-drunk?” Cordelia asked betweenhics, giving her bowl a distrustful look. “Eustace? Have you put something in this?”
Her sister smiled lazily. “No, of course not. It must be the wine.”
Cordelia glanced at her nearly full glass. “But I’ve barely touched my wine.”
“I feel it too,” Gordon said, looking alarmed. “I never talkabout what happened to my mother. I—I don’t know why I told you all that.”
Cordelia felt the blood rush to her face. “My sister is in the cannabis industry,” she explained. “Please forgive her. She has a habit of believing a little too strongly in her own product.”
“I feel better than I have in ages,” Eustace exclaimed. “But I swear I didn’t cook any herb into the food. At least not that kind. Just love. And a little old-fashioned sincerity. Oooh, and tarragon.”
“Surely Mr. Togers…” Cordelia questioned.
Eustace gave her sister a playful shove. “Lighten up, Cordy. The attorney didn’t roofie the produce.”
Gordon stood suddenly, upsetting his chair and knocking the table. “I’m going to have to run,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. He turned to Eustace. “This has been…”
Cordelia thought he was going to saynice,but then his eyes met hers.
“Attractive,” he said. Startled, he tried to recoup. “I mean, appealing.” He closed his eyes in frustration. “Appetizing,” he tried again. “I’m just gonna go now,” he said before storming out.
Cordelia slid her chair back from the table. “Eustace, what is in this? Did you cook up some kind of truth serum?”
“Not exactly,” Eustace admitted.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Cordelia blazed.
Her sister shrugged. “While I was cooking, I just kept thinking how helpful it would be if we could get some answers out of someone,” she said. “I think it kind of crept into the food.”
Cordelia ran her hand down her face. Maybe there was more to that photo inscription than she wanted to admit. Her sister, who had never cooked a real meal a day in her life, had just pulled a three-course meal out of a gift basket and some old dry goods and used it to interrogate the groundskeeper. It wasdoubtful they’d get anything from Gordon after this beyond a curt nod and a safe distance.
“I’m going upstairs to take a shower and sober up,” she said with a sigh, looking down at her hopelessly rumpled dress. “You take care of the kitchen. And then we need to get ready.”
“Ready?” Eustace asked.
“Yes,” Cordelia reminded her. “We have a grave to burgle, remember?”
CHAPTER TENTHEGRAVE
CORDELIA PULLED Acardigan over her nightdress and tiptoed down the hall to Eustace’s room, knocking softly on the door.
It swung open, and her sister stood before her in cotton pajamas, patterned in bright green marijuana leaves. She held a brass lantern in one hand with a lit candle inside.
Cordelia frowned. “Nice, Eustace.”
Her sister looked at the lantern. “What? It came with the room. I thought it might be useful.”
“I meant your pajamas,” Cordelia corrected her, starting for the stairs. “You’re not exactly incognito.”
Eustace whispered behind her. “Well, excuse me for forgetting to pack my ninja spy clothes. Oh, wait… I don’townany ninja spy clothes.”
Cordelia flashed her an irritated look over a shoulder.
“It’s not like I was expecting to go grave robbing in the middle of the night when we got here,” Eustace added.
“We’re not stealing anything,” she corrected. “We’re just investigating.”
