Page 82 of My Sister is Going to Kill Me

“Put that away,” Lucinda said.

“Nana, CareFree is the entire reason we’re here.”

“She’s right,” PK said. Sheepishly, the young man gestured for Imogen’s phone and propped it up against a rock on the sand.

Charlie looked stricken.

“You’re a loud, arrogant leech,” PK said to Guy. “But you’re right. Babette would have wanted us to do this.”

He hit Record.

“For Babette,” PK said. He dipped his fingers into the lavender-tinted cream and started rubbing circles over his cheeks and forehead.

“For Babette,” the others repeated. Guy slathered the stuff onto his cheekbones. Imogen made careful dots along her jawline for the camera, smoothing them away one dainty stroke at a time. Even Charlie dipped into the cream, worrying the furrow between his eyebrows. Only Liv, Lucinda, Katy, and Big Pete abstained.

“It’s cooling,” Mandy murmured.

“The final calibration on the scent is excellent,” Stefan said.

“How long before it starts working?” Imogen asked.

“That’s the beauty of topical application,” Devon said. “It’s already sinking into your bloodstream.”

“But the full effect?” Stefan asked.

“It peaks in one hour, lasts for two,” PK said. “Hopefully by then we can drift off and forget this horrible day.”

Forget. Was that what her father had wanted to achieve?

In the first half hour, as far as Liv could tell, everyone just grew quieter. More detached. PK’s pupils were dilated, and Devon’s skin reddened, but that could also have been a result of the long day in the sun. Thor picked at a ukulele he’d pulled from the supply boat, as if this were just another lazy day on the river.

Liv stood awkwardly with Big Pete, Katy, and Lucinda by the dish station, watching.

“It doesn’t look like they’re in thrall to a goddess of hell,” Liv said.

“It’s worse,” Katy said. “They neutered the datura plant. Bled the goddess dry. And turned everyone into . . .”

“Lotus eaters,” Lucinda said.

“What?”

“In Homer’s Odyssey. There was an island where everyone was stoned all the time.”

“Did something terrible happen to them?” Liv asked.

“Strangely, no. It’s one of the few places where Odysseus’s crew doesn’t torment the locals. They just forget their earthly toil and lounge around.”

“But it’s dangerous, right?”

Lucinda scrutinized the plate in her hands for spots. “For people like us, maybe. For them . . .”

Liv scanned the beach. Down by the water’s edge, Mandy and Guy were sitting together, Mandy’s head on his shoulder, singing the Beatles. They swayed gently, losing the lyrics here and there, wandering off-key. It would be so easy to slather on some cream and join them on the sand. To let go of the hurt, the threats, her suspicions about her father’s role in Babette’s death. If she could only forgive. If she could only forget.

But that carefree dream world was theirs, not hers. Calmly, Liv turned to Big Pete, Katy, and Lucinda. “There are three people who had the opportunity to be alone with Babette today. There’s a possibility one of them could have . . .”

“Killed her?” Lucinda said.

Liv still wasn’t prepared to say that out loud. “They might have seen something that makes them a target as well. Either way, we need to take care of them. Of all of us.”