“We don’t—” Noah starts.
“You sort of do,” I interrupt. “But Carlotta, I don’t think?—”
“I’m coming, and that’s final.” She points the meatball at me. “You might be heading into a lounge full of rich old ladies who probably have dirt on everyone in this town. You need someone who speaks their language.”
“What language is that?” Noah asks dryly.
“Gossip, blackmail, and passive aggression.” Carlotta grins. “I’m fluent in all three.”
Percy appears on the kitchen table, fanning his tail feathers. “A game with strangers in a mysterious lounge? This has all the makings of either a brilliant breakthrough or a spectacular disaster. I’m absolutely coming.”
“Great,” I say. “So we’re all going to Leeds to play mystery games with a woman who may or may not have information about a murder. Sounds like a great time is about to be had by all.”
“Speaking of having a great time,” Noah says, “how was the sock hop?”
“We got kicked out.” I shrink a little as I say it.
Everett’s lips twitch. “What did Carlotta do?”
“Hey!” Carlotta protests. “Why do you assume it was me?”
“Because it’s always you,” I say. “She accidentally turned the soda fountain into a power washer and soaked Francine Dundee and half the ballroom in root beer.”
Noah belts out a laugh. “Accidentally?”
“The machine went rogue,” Carlotta insists.
“Right. The machine.” Everett shakes his head as he looks my way. “Did you at least get useful information before you were forcibly removed?”
“Actually, yes.” I fill them in on Gigi’s revelations—Dolly’s embezzlement, Vivienne’s secret affair with someone married and perhaps close to the Daughters, the whispers of current financial discrepancies, Midge’s carefully constructed perfection.
“So basically everyone had a motive,” Noah says.
“Everyone had a motive,” I confirm.
Percy flaps his glorious blue wings, and a shower of tiny green stars shoots across the room. “Mother Vivi did love to collect leverage. It’s what got her killed, I suspect. Too many secrets, too much blackmail, and eventually, someone decided enough was enough. Big Bertha did it!”
Big Bertha did it, indeed. With a little help from a friend. But which friend?
“And that’s why tonight matters,” I say. “Ronnie might know who Vivienne was sleeping with. She might know who was embezzling, if it wasn’t Dolly. She might?—”
“Enough about the boring bits.” Carlotta waves me off before snapping up a chocolate chip cookie from the platter. I guess she prefers to wash that meatball down with a cookie rather than gin. “Go on and tell them what Little Yippy Number One did today.”
Noah groans as if he’s not surehe wants to know.
Everett lowers his chin my way. “What happened?”
I wince. “Funny you should ask.”
“Lottie,” Noah says slowly. “Did Lyla Nell get a gold star today?”
“No. She got suspended from preschool.”
Both men freeze.
“Suspended?” Everett couldn’t look more stunned if I hit him over the head with a frying pan. “From preschool?”
“You gotta start somewhere,” Carlotta howls with a laugh.
