“Bradley was from a wealthy and prominent family,” she says, as if that precludes the possibility of him doing anything wrong.
Detective Ortiz has been quietly observing this exchange. “I’ll head over there now,” he says, tucking his notebook in his pocket. “See what I can find out.”
“You’re wasting your time,” Bernie calls after him. “Someone here is responsible. That’s where you should be looking!”
His response floats back to us. “Your concerns have been noted.”
Damn. Savage politeness. I make a mental note to tell Mr. Namura about that one.
After she huffs out of the room, Felix looks at me with his brows raised.
“Which part?” I ask, since there are so many options to choose from.
“Is she just trying to stir the pot, or does she really think somebody here was responsible?”
“I could believe either one, honestly.” I think of what he said before, about not having to worry about Bradley being a threat to Castle Claude. Maybe we aren’t out of the woods yet.
“Okay, but she can’t accuse people without any proof,” I reason. “Which they won’t find because I can’t imagine anyonehere—strike that, I canimaginethem doing a murder, but only if the murder was also imaginary.”
He pokes at his grits, now congealed into a far less appealing form. “Plus, if they were going to bump someone off it would be Bernie.”
It’s a fair point. “I wonder what happens if she dies before the three months are up?”
“I don’t know.” He hesitates. “Her nephew definitely won’t inherit.”
We let that sink in for a minute, with all the possible ramifications.
Felix pushes his bowl away. “Maybe we should ask Mervyn. About all of it.” As soon as the words are out, he winces.
“What? You don’t like him?”
“No, he seems like a nice guy. I just made it a personal mission to always do the opposite of what my stepfather thinks is right. Like that would be my moral compass. ‘What would Don do? Okay, I’ll go the other way.’”
“He says chocolate, you say vanilla?”
“More like he says ‘ROTC’ and I say ‘ceramics.’ But yeah. He’d lawyer up at the first sign of trouble.” Felix slides me a worried look. “Do you think he’s rubbing off on me?”
“No.” I answer without hesitation, because sometimes you have to tell people what they need to hear.
“It’s for a good cause, right? The end justifies the means. Shit.” His eyes squint shut. “That’s totally something he would say.”
“Listen, if math would help, I would bust out some algebra right now. Totally playing the stepfather card. No shame.” I make an expansive hand gesture worthy of Grandma Lainey.Sky’s the limit.
That surprises a laugh out of him. “Now I know who to call if there’s a quadratic equation emergency.”
“Maybe we both take after our grandparents,” I suggest, because it feels like an okay moment to share one of my pet theories, while we’re out here being all sincere.
“Like the coolness skipped a generation?”
“Sounds plausible to me.” Plausible, wishful thinking: It’s a fine line. And yet I can practically feel my grandmother’s essence rising within me as I nod at his phone, face down next to his bowl. “I’m sure there’s something on your Ancestry app about that.”
Felix shakes his head. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”
“Why would I?”
“Grandpa always said Lainey was sharp as a tack.”
“Did he now?” I add that to my growing evidence file before getting back to business, aka my grandmother’s other potential suitor. “Do you want to call Mervyn or should I?”
