“They make a wonderful team.” Mrs. A’s twinkly eyes make it clear she’s talking about more than our investigative prowess.
“I still feel bad for tipping Bernie off.” Before she left, Bernie treated us to a long rehash of her many complaints,including Mervyn’s violation of attorney-client privilege by telling us about the terms of Claude’s bequest. That was one of the things she and the Odells were holding over Mervyn’s head: the threat of losing his license.
“Absolutely not.” My grandmother smacks the table for emphasis. “Don’t you dare take responsibility for that woman’s crimes.”
“Who knows what else she was guilty of?” Mr. Namura wonders aloud.
Malia points at him. “There was something suspicious about her story. I’m not convinced she couldn’t have saved him.”
“Maybe she’s the one who put the EpiPen in her purse?” Felix suggests.
“Oh no, that was me,” Mrs. A casually informs us. She busies herself sweeping crumbs off the table with the side of her hand and depositing them on her plate, until she notices the sudden silence.
Grandma Lainey gestures at her in invitation. “Care to explain?”
“I found it the next day. The EpiPen,” Mrs. A adds unnecessarily.
“Where was it?” Mr. Namura asks.
“Under the edge of the game cabinet, up against the baseboard.” Mrs. A turns to my grandmother with an apologetic expression. “I thought you might have had something to do with it, so I moved it. But it backfired when she tried to use it against you!”
“A tangled web,” Mr. Gutierrez observes.
He’s not wrong. Between Mrs. A walking away with the EpiPen and Malia trashing Bernie’s cup, this is a challenging environment for solving murders.
“You’re a true friend,” Grandma Lainey tells Mrs. A.
“I know you’d help me bury a body, Lainey.”
“Just tell me where to point the shovel,” my grandmother replies with the same unshakable conviction.
I love that they have that kind of friendship, but it also makes me feel something like envy. Who would bury a body for me? I’m not sure any of my current relationships will still be active twenty years from now, and if I asked Sam to break the law on my behalf, her response would probably be, “How would that look on my college applications?”
What about Felix? Investigating a murder togetherisa bonding experience, whatever else may or may not be going on between us. We could meet again years from now and share a secret smile.Remember when?
Unless this is a passing distraction, like going to sleepaway camp, or meeting someone on vacation.
I glance at him, in case something about him has changed in the last sixty seconds, but of course he busts me looking and breaks into a grin. My guess is he’s thinking something likeI knew you were obsessed with meor maybeYou’re cute when you frown(anything’s possible).
Where is the line between attraction and one-upmanship?
It looks like I still have one last case to crack.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIXTHE BODY IN THE DEEP END
The situation with Felix isn’t the only thing still in need of untangling. Unlike Killing Me Softly, where the big reveal leads straight to an after-party, solving a real-life murder is just the beginning.
There’s the real estate question, for one thing.
As a first step, Claude’s penthouse officially reverts to the board, per the terms of his will. After discussing various options for the space (dance studio, permanent Claude-themed exhibition, dojo) they opt to invite Sofia and her sisters to move in and make it their HQ.
“It’s nice to have youthful energy in the building,” Mrs. A says with an affectionate look at me. “And that sweet Carmen needs a place to stay, thanks to her dirtbag ex.”
Because of course she’s up to date on everyone’s love life, in and out of the building.
On a less cheerful note, the residents are taking turns visitingMervyn at the local jail. According to Mrs. A, he’s putting a brave face on it, but I can tell she’s worried.
Until Grandma Lainey returns from her trip to the slammer and asks everyone to gather in the dining room for an announcement.
