Edie held it out to better see the design. The front of the shirt had an illustration of a stack of books stenciled on it, with the slogan, SO MANY BOOKS, SO LITTLE TIME.
“We’re a book club, remember?” Irene said.
“Gosh, with nothing going on, how could I possibly have forgotten?”
“Then get changed. We don’t have all day.”
Edie was still dressing when Frances came in and sat heavily on the bed. She smelled of burnt metal smoke and something else that Edie realized was hashish. “Wow, I haven’t smelled hash in decades. Were you out getting high with the boys?”
“No. But everyone else was.” Frances rubbed her temple. Hard. “Apparently that’s all the rage at chop shops these days.”
“Are you all right?” Edie asked as she adjusted her red-haired wig.
“Yes. Stop asking. The van is ready, I think. Skinner was able to get some magnetic decals ready by tomorrow. And we have a vinyl cover for the panel doors if we make it out of the casino. It would take a few hours, but for a generous fee, the garage will be ready if we need it.” In the mirror, Edie watched Frances push herself up and walk stiffly to the bag that she kept on the floor near her bed. She reached into it, withdrew two or three amber pill bottles, and looked at the labels. When she found the one she was looking for, she opened it and shook one out, then looked inside. “Shit,” she muttered.
“Franny?” Edie turned away from the mirror. “What’s up with you?”
Frances’s head jerked up. “Huh?”
“All those pills—”
“I told you. Supplements.”
“No one takes that many supplements. Not even Irene. And not out of brown pill bottles you only get from the pharmacy.”
The front door suddenly slammed open and then shut. “I’mho-oome!” Marcy sang out.
“Ooh, let’s go see,” Frances said, and slid the pill bottle into her pocket. She brushed past Edie on her way out of the room.
As if Edie hadn’t said anything.
Frances was not going to get away with that. But Edie was eager to see her granddaughter, too, and followed her out.
Marcy was grinning so stupidly that Edie felt a sink in her belly she always felt before disaster struck. That was not the smile of a con artist;thatwas the smile of a girl falling for a guy.For that worm Rocco? Really?“Don’t you look happy,” Edie said dryly.
“Who knew this could be so much fun?” Marcy said. “The helicopter ride wasfantastic. I’ve never been in one. Have you?”
“Yes. We all have. Over Malta. Here,” Irene said, and pushed a stack of clothes at Marcy.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“Your next gig. You are the junior member of a book club. Here’s your wig and your sensible shoes,” Irene said, stacking those two items on top of the clothes she’d just handed Marcy.
“Eww,” Marcy responded.
“Talk about a step down from the glam of last night,” Joan said with a snort.
“Don’t be a princess, kid,” Irene said. “Where’s Franny?”
“I’m right here.”
She was standing behind everyone else, and when Irene turned to hand her a stack of clothes, she hesitated. “What’s wrong with your eye?”
Edie hadn’t noticed it before, but something was indeed wrong with Frances’s right eye. It wasn’t swollen, exactly, but was drooping strangely.
“I got some metal dust in my eye. I guess I rubbed too hard.”
“We should get going,” Irene said, glancing at her watch. “He’s usually out of the club by ten.”
