CHAPTER NINETHE BODY IN THE ALCOVE
My clever plan for evading the problem people in the building is to spend the next few days rereading my grandmother’s collection of gothic romances indoors instead of venturing out to the pool. Luckily this fits right in with Mrs. A’s decree that we should lie low and give Bernie a little breathing room to adjust to her new surroundings. Grandma Lainey and I exchanged skeptical looks at the suggestion that forty-eight hours of calm would be enough to mellow out Claude’s sister, but neither of us wants to rain on Mrs. A’s parade.
I’m having a decent time in sloth mode until a fierce craving for microwave popcorn hits, and I realize Grandma Lainey doesn’t have any in the cupboard. It only takes me a few seconds to rationalize running downstairs to the main kitchen in what are basically pajamas.I’ll be super quick! No one else will be around! These almost look like normal shorts! Popcorn sounds so good right now!
Powerless to resist the siren call of artificial butter, I play the odds—and lose.
The second the stairwell door closes behind me on the ground floor, I hear voices. And not just any voices, but the worst-case scenario: Bernie and Bradley, the gruesome twosome.
Luckily for me, Castle Claude is full of random hiding spots like the alcove ahead, a shadowy niche occupied by one of three fake suits of armor. This one wears a hot-pink knitted scarf. I slip behind Alfie (as he’s known in these parts) and squeeze my limbs to my sides. I’m so laser-focused on figuring out whether Claude’s sister and her skeevy nephew are heading in this direction, I fail to register the flap of the kitchen door until it’s too late.
“Are you avoiding me or is this an ambush?” Felix asks, stopping in front of my hiding place. He’s holding a bag of cashews in one hand, like I caught him mid-snack.
I press a finger to my lips, glaring at him.
“For a jump scare to be effective,” he stage-whispers, “you need to actually get the jump on someone.”
“Thank you, Dr. Pedantic.” I realize he’s lured me into sarcasm and lower my voice. “I wasn’t trying to scare you.”
He drops a handful of cashews into his mouth. “What are we playing?”
I draw breath to set him straight, only to hear Claude’s sister loudly leaving herself a voice memo about changing the “hideous” paneling in the elevator. She sounds closer than before. Grabbing Felix by the elbow, I yank him into the alcove.
It turns out this space was not designed for two.
“This is cozy,” he says.
“Relax,” I hiss at him.
His brows shoot up. “BecauseI’mdefinitely the one acting strange.”
I tune him out, concentrating on what’s happening beyond this undersized architectural feature. It sounds like Bernie and Wannabe Cradle Robber have detoured to the mail room.
“Cashew?” Felix asks.
I shake my head with the smallest possible side-to-side motion. After a beat, my stomach gets the better of me. “What kind?”
He glances at the front of the bag. “Sweet Brown Butter. Pretty tasty.”
“I’m in a salty mood.”
“What else is new?” He grins like I should be amused by his wordplay. “So are we spying on her or what?”
“Wearen’t doing anything.” I make a shooing motion, which he ignores.
“Probably a good idea,” he continues as if I haven’t spoken. “I don’t trust her. Have you noticed how she walks around this place like she’s getting ready to hold a yard sale?” He holds his hand in front of his face like he’s talking at his phone. “These drapes need to go. Check price on shutters.”
I frown at him. Why does Bernie think she can redecorate the common areas? And what other developments have I missed during my readathon?
“You feel it too?” he whispers, and my heart stops because his face is inches away. It takes a few seconds to process that he’s still talking about Claude’s sister. “Like if this wasAmong Us, she’d for sure be the impostor.”
“You still playAmong Us?”
Whatever weak defense he’s about to offer will have to wait, because the door to the mail room opens again, and this timewe hear Bradley monologuing about video games and the specs for some equipment he’s planning to buy, until his aunt cuts him off.
“A craft room,” she says. “That’s what I meant byhobbies.”
Felix nudges me with his arm, doing weird facial gymnastics as soon as I turn my head to look at him.
