“Yes,” Malia confirms. “And then I forgot about it, in all the commotion. Until the next day, when I decided I’d better dispose of the evidence before she sued me for stealing her sippy cup. The two of you almost caught me at it!”
“That’s what you were throwing away that day,” Felix says, piecing it together at the exact same time as me and not a second before. No wonder she looked nervous.
“I know it was juvenile,” Malia sighs. “But it made me so angry to have her here, acting like she owned the place, after she ignored Claude for all those years. When I saw her stupid cup with that smug ‘Good Morning, Beautiful!’ I wanted to throw up. And then I thought, ‘Take that!’” She mimes stabbing herself in the chest. “If she was going to attack something we loved, I could do the same to her.”
“It was just a cup,” Felix says, patting her hand. “Did you know she got rid of my grandfather’s paintings?”
Her gasp is gratifyingly intense. “No! From Claude’s collection?”
While Felix does a slow nod, I thank my lucky stars Malia hasn’t asked how we discovered this fact.
“Bottom line, it’s not like you murdered anyone,” he says leadingly.
“That’s true,” Malia agrees, and while I don’t look at him, I suspect Felix and I are both relieved to hear her state it for the record. “You’re a sweet boy, like your grandfather.” Her eyes dart to me and then back to him. “And I’m rooting for you,” she stage-whispers, as if the hand propped next to her mouth has magical noise-canceling properties.
“What do you think?” he asks when we’re safely in the hallway with the music room door closed behind us.
“About the cup, you mean?” I assume he’s not asking about his chances with me… if Malia is even right about the dynamic between us. Does everyone think I’m playing hard to get, as opposed to being inexperienced and a little distractedtrying to solve a murder before my grandmother loses her home?
And who’s to say Felix isn’t putting on the Prince Charming bit for his own amusement? Or, more charitably, to delight our grandparents and their friends?
The good news is that I don’t have to obsess over this right now, because I’m busy sorting through the hodgepodge of information we got from Malia.
“The thing about the cup,” Felix begins, breaking off with a frown.
“We should have noticed she wasn’t carting it around anymore?”
“I guess.” His forehead is still scrunched.
“But then I didn’t even realize Malia had left the room in the middle of the game.” I wait for him to question my observational skills, but Felix only nods.
“Same.”
Minus five points to both of us for being easily sidetracked.
“I can’t figure out what it means.” Felix gestures toward the kitchen. “How did the cup wind up in the cabinet?”
“And why?”
“I guess we don’t knowwhen, either.” He sighs. “It has to mean something, though.”
My gut is telling me the same thing. I’m used to clues that immediately slot into place, but it’s different when the mystery isn’t scripted. We need to move things around, try different angles.
“What if it wasn’t a senior moment?” I hypothesize. “Putting her favorite cup under the sink.”
“Like Bernie hid it there on purpose?”
“Or someone else.”
Felix holds up a finger. “What if another person stole it first? And then Malia stole it from them. Maybe they were going to hold it for ransom.”
“Maybe. Although that would mean it had nothing to do with Bradley.” And for our purposes, it’s a lot more useful if this ties back to the main crime.
“Oh yeah.” He deflates a little. “Maybe the cup is another red herring.”
“We should probably focus on the poison,” I reluctantly agree. “One crime at a time.”
Felix taps his temple, like he’s thinking the same thing. “We need to talk to Mr. Namura.”
