“The sticks, mostly.”
“To use the technical term.”
I give him the slow nod I imagine an actual martial artist would do at this point, like I’m too secure in my own skills to posture.
“That should make tomorrow interesting.”
I wage an internal battle over whether to give him the satisfaction of asking or pretend I already know what he’s talking about. He can probably hear my teeth grinding when I force out a reluctant, “Why?”
“Because it’s game time, baby.” Felix grimaces. “Sorry. Can we strike that ‘baby’ from the record? I didn’t mean to sound like you-know-who. It was an all-purpose baby. Gender neutral.”
“You should probably stop there.”
“Yeah. Good call.” He glances at me, and I’m struck by the unfairness of a guy having such thick lashes. “I was trying to say that we’re playing Killing Me Softly.” For some reason, he frowns like that’s bad news. Is he over it? Too cool to play murder and mayhem with a bunch of retirees (and me)? I hope Felix isn’t going to ruin the game by going all sulky teenage cliché. He needs to save that energy for his home life.
“What is this thing you’re doing with your face?” I circle a finger at him.
“I’m worried. What if they manage to change this place?The mean lady and Bad Penny. Because he keeps turning up,” Felix adds, mistaking my silence for confusion.
“I got that.” Of course I know the expression, because I too hang out with a lot of old people. Nobody else our age is out there saying, “You can’t get blood from a turnip” or “Cheese it, the cops!” much less “That and a buck twenty-five will buy you a cup of coffee,” which hasn’t been true in my lifetime.
I guess that’s one thing Felix and I have in common. Two if you count wanting to keep Castle Claude exactly the way it is.
CHAPTER TENTHE BODY IN THE WARDROBE
“What is the meaning of this?”
Bitter Bernie, as I’ve taken to thinking of her, bursts into the costume closet the next afternoon, clutching a piece of paper. In the other hand is her omnipresent tumbler. For the first time, I’m close enough to make out the design, a bouquet of flowers under the wordsGOOD MORNING, BEAUTIFUL!It’s a weirdly perky greeting for someone who always seems angry at the world.
Grandma Lainey looks up from the rack of evening gowns she’s sorting through. “Care to be more specific?”
“Come to the dining room at oneP.M.or else!” she reads, shaking the page for emphasis. “Don’t tell a soul.” Claude’s sister glares at all of us—my grandmother, Mrs. A, me, and Malia. Mr. Namura seems to have disappeared behind a rack of coats. “I found this on my doormat this morning. Is it some kind of blackmail? Are you threatening me? Because I’m telling you right now, it won’t work.”
During her speech, I get a better look at the message. The letters appear to have been cut out of a magazine and glued to the page, puckering the paper.
“Don’t look at me,” Grandma Lainey says. “That’s not my style. I use an old typewriter for my ransom notes.”
“I write left-handed,” Malia volunteers, popping out from behind a changing screen with a pair of men’s shoes in her hands. “Harder to trace.” Her face falls. “I tried invisible ink, but you never know if the person receiving it will have a lemon handy.”
Bernie looks even more disgusted than when she arrived. “What is wrong with you people?”
“No one is blackmailing you or demanding a ransom.” Mrs. A raises both palms in alet’s all calm downpose. “It was an invitation. To today’s game.”
Bernie takes a half step back, like she might need to make a break for it. “You can’t force me.”
“Of course not,” Mrs. A agrees. “We thought you might enjoy being part of something your brother cared about. It can be a wonderful form of self-expression, to do something creative—”
“Decoupage is creative,” the other woman snaps. “This is sick and twisted, and I don’t want any part of it.”
Grandma Lainey assumes a patently false pout. “Darn.”
“Things are going to change around here,” Claude’s sister announces. “We’ll see who’s laughing then.”
“Says who?” my grandmother asks, looking her up and down. “You?”
“And my lawyer!”
I wonder if she means Mervyn or someone else. Can he represent the condoandClaude’s sister? Because I’m pretty sure they’re on opposite sides.
