Lacy wondered if all wasn’t rosy in Robert and Riley land, but there was no way she could ask even if she wanted to, which she didn’t. She was trying to be the bigger person about the situation, but she had her limits. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had a lasting relationship.”
Thanks to you.
“I should go,” Riley said. “I’ll put this on so I don’t lose it.”
Lacy watched as she fastened the sapphire necklace around her neck. She remembered the exact moment Robert gave it to her on her birthday and all the accompanying words of love he had said. She waited for the inevitable stab of pain the memory would evoke, but none came. Instead it was a dull throb, like an echo of an old wound. She smiled. “Looks good on you.”
Riley smiled and stood. “Tomorrow we’re going to talk about where you got those clothes,” which Lacy knew was actually code for “I’m going to take your clothes.” She let herself out. Lacy took off her sock and threw it at the door.
Lacy was dreaming. Jason was there, smoothing his hand over her hair. But Tosh was there, too. “Mrs. Rae’s urine output is up by thirty percent,” he said.
Jason smoothed his hand over her hair again.
“But what about me?” Tosh said.
“Lacy,” Jason said.
“Mmm.”
“Lacy, we need to talk.”
Lacy was still in that twilight haze between awake and asleep when she felt the bed sag beside her as if he was sitting down. He smoothed his hand over her hair again and she reached for him, drawing him close for a kiss so he was forced to lie down beside her.
“Lacy, I’ve missed you,” he said, and Lacy came fully awake because the person pressed up against her wasn’t Jason; it was Robert.
She scrambled away from him and fell out of the small bed, landing hard on her backside. “Robert, what are you doing here?”
“I wanted to talk to you, and this was the only way we could get a minute alone.”
“In my bedroom? You can’t be in here. And you kissed me.”
“You kissed me,” he accused.
“I was asleep,” she said.
“You always kiss men in your sleep?”
“I’m ignoring your question and going back to my earlier what are you doing in here?”
“I just…I really miss you, Lacy. I didn’t realize how much until I saw you again. I think I’ve made a horrible mistake. Riley is…she’s not…you.”
Lacy pressed her hands over her ears and stood up. “Stop it, just stop. Maybe someone should have told you this a long time ago, but you cannot switch between sisters every time you get bored.”
“It’s not boredom. It’s the connection, the deep, gut-level one that you and I shared.”
“That connection was severed when I found your tongue in my sister’s mouth. Get out of my room and let’s never speak of this again,” Lacy said, but Robert remained on her bed, staring up at her with soulful puppy eyes.
“Lacy, can’t you understand that I was confused? I thought Riley was what I wanted, but I think I was wrong. I’m pretty sure it’s you.”
“See, I always thought you were sort of a miracle because you turned out okay despite your family, but now I realize that mental illness is a ticking time bomb and yours just went off. You have issues. Now get out of my room.”
“Not until we talk about this,” Robert said. “Not until I make you understand.”
“I’ll never understand; don’t waste your breath. Jason.” She raised her voice, but she didn’t yell. She didn’t need to, though, because he was there, and he was wearing a bathrobe.
“You wear a bathrobe?” Lacy said.
Jason’s eyes darted from Robert lying on the bed to Lacy standing beside it. “Really? That’s what’s first and foremost on your mind right now? Because it’s not what I’m thinking. What’s he doing in here?”
“That’s the question of the hour. He says he’s not leaving,” Lacy said.
“Yeah?” Jason replied. He took a step forward and Robert scrambled out of bed, scurrying toward the door.
“Look, I just came to talk to Lacy, okay?” Robert said.
“In her bed?” Jason said.
“I was just sitting there. She’s the one who pulled me down and kissed me,” Robert said. They both turned to look accusingly at Lacy.
“I thought he was…you,” she finished lamely, wrinkling her nose when Jason’s lips twisted into a brief yet smug smile before turning back to Robert.
“Riley thought you weren’t together,” Robert said.
“Riley thought wrong,” Jason replied. “Now get out, and don’t come back.”
“This really doesn’t concern you,” Robert said. He was trying to sound authoritative, which failed miserably because his back was pressed furtively against the door like a cornered bunny. “Lacy and I have a lot of history.”
“I’m well acquainted with your history. In fact, I’ve wanted to talk with you about it for a long time now,” Jason said, taking another step forward, and then Robert was out the door, slamming it shut behind him. Jason remained staring at the door a few beats, making sure he was really gone, and then he turned to Lacy.
“A few things: A. That guy is a weasel. B. Your sister is crazy. I locked my door to prevent just such a midnight encounter with her. C. They deserve each other. D. Do you always sleep in see-through gowns?”
Lacy hunched and crossed her arms over her midsection. “Stop looking,” she said.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her. “You okay?”
“Yes. The feeling of having escaped something horrible just keeps getting stronger the longer we remain here,” she said. She slipped her arms around his neck and the atmosphere bottomed out like the calm before a storm. “So, you wear a bathrobe,” Lacy said, nervous now and trying to regain some levity.
“Forget about the bathrobe, Red,” Jason replied.
“I wish I could, Hugh Heffner, I really wish I could,” she said.
He smiled, shaking his head. “Show me where the monkey bit you.”
She tilted her head, pointing to a spot on her neck, slightly off center from her jugular. “If you look closely, you can see faint scars from his tiny teeth.”
“Let me see,” he said, tilting closer. He pressed his lips to her neck and it was all over for Lacy. Any attempt she might have made at protesting—which would have been half-hearted to begin with—was now out the window. Instead she went boneless, leaning back in his arms so he was fully supporting her weight. Suddenly he stopped what he was doing and cocked his head toward the bathroom.
“What is it, Lassie? Timmy in the well again?” she asked.
“I thought I heard someone knocking on my door,” he said. “Instinct tells me it was your grandfather because he knows what we’re doing in here.”
“Then we’d better hurry,” Lacy said. She stood on her toes and kissed him, and he reciprocated, at least until her door flew open and Riley stepped inside.
“Oh,” Riley said. “Awkward.”
“If only there was some way to prevent walking in on people when they’re kissing like, I don’t know, knocking,” Lacy said, reluctantly drawing away from Jason. Reminding her sister to knock before entering her room felt like being a teenager all over again. Riley had always been a nosy snoop.
“I just came to tell you the game has started,” Riley said. She sounded grumpy. “Come to the drawing room.” She turned and left, leaving the door wide open in her wake.
Lacy took a step toward the door, but Jason held her back. He shrugged out of his robe and put it on her, cinching the belt around her waist. “Let’s not give Uncle Chuck a show,” he said.
“Right. I should also get my scarf.” She turned in a circle, but failed to find it.
“Just use the hood on my robe,” Jason said, tugging at the hood.
“You wear a robe with a hood?” Lacy said. “Are you a boxer? Because that’s really the only acceptable excuse for owning this.” She plucked at the robe.
“Maybe I keep it on hand to protect beautiful women from leering creepers,” he suggested.
“I’ll allow that, too,” she said, and then she was distracted by him because he wasn’t wearing a shirt under the robe and, have mercy, the man was ripped. “What were we talking about?”
“We weren’t,” Jason said. “But I guess that’s my cue to grab a shirt.” He headed toward his room, but Lacy plucked a t-shirt from her bag and tossed it to him. “Wear mine. It’s a little big on me.”
He took the shirt and pulled it over his head. “Okay?” he asked.
It was one of Lacy’s older t-shirts she used for working out. Despite the fact that it was large on her, it was still pulled tight across his muscled chest where the word “Babycakes” was splayed in bright pink letters. “Perfect,” Lacy said.
“Good, let’s go.” He took her hand and led her out of the room. The rest of the family was gathered in the drawing room, looking disheveled and half asleep. Hildy lay sprawled on the floor, a splash of white fabric covering her face.
“Nobody touch the body, nobody leave this room until I’ve had a chance to interview you,” Jason said, sounding irritated and a little embarrassed over his performance.
“Wait, who are you and where did you come from?” Lacy said.
“Traitor. Fine, someone called the police, obviously, and I’m Chief Inspector Cantor of Scotland Yard, Hamptons Division.”
“Should we be starting? Aunt Enid isn’t here yet,” Rita said.
That was odd, since it was Aunt Enid’s game. Lacy thought she’d better hurry because how much longer could poor Hildy hold perfectly still on the floor? She glanced at the woman, expecting to see the andiron beside her but not only was there no andiron, it was only two in the morning, nowhere near dawn. She froze, clutching Jason’s arm.
“Uh, Jason,” she said.
“What?”
“I was the murderer. It was supposed to be at dawn, and I was supposed to bash her in the head.”
“You’re not supposed to tell us,” Chuck said, but Jason understood what she was trying to say. He let her go and knelt beside the body as he felt for a pulse.
“Oh, geez,” he muttered. “Who has a phone on them?” He scanned the room and Riley stepped forward, offering up her stylish phone and backing away, eyes wide. Everyone listened in stunned silence as Jason dialed 911. “Yes, I’d like to report a murder,” he said and someone screamed. To everyone’s further astonishment, it was Sue who then slumped into a dead faint.
Lacy listened as Jason gave the dispatcher all the pertinent information. He hung up and she knelt beside him. “Is there anything I can do?” she asked.
He shook his head and looked around the room. “What I said before still applies, but for real this time. No one leaves this room.”
“But Aunt Enid,” Rita said. “What if the killer got her, too?”
“We’ll wait until the police get here, which should be in a few minutes,” Jason said. “No one leaves this room.” He eyed them all, but everyone seemed compliant, glad to have someone in charge who knew what he was doing.
Hildy’s face was covered by the white material. Some strange compulsion made Lacy reach out, but Jason grabbed her hand, stopping her cold. “No, you can’t touch her.”
“But, Jason,” she said. “She’s wearing my scarf.”
A little over a half an hour later, Lacy sat in Jason’s lap in a cushy chair in the library. Seating was limited because the entire family was in there, along with the monkey, but that wasn’t why she was curled into a little ball, her head against his chest. And despite the fact that his arms were around her, the hood of the robe was up, and she was covered by an afghan, she couldn’t stop shaking.
Everything had seemed unreal for a while, like it was all part of the game. Before the police showed up, it was easy to believe Hildy was playing her role by pretending to be dead. Then the first officer on the scene had pulled back the part of the scarf that shielded Hildy’s face. Lacy had been standing so close that she saw everything—Hildy’s grotesquely swollen purple face, the bulging eyes, her tongue jutting out of her mouth, the ligature marks around her neck where the scarf had cut off her air. Lacy had turned, burying her head in Jason’s front, but it was too late; the image was forever burned into her brain.
And Jason, who was usually even-tempered when it came to the law, was angry. “There are civilians here,” he snapped at the young officer bent over the body. “You couldn’t have cleared the room before you did that?”
“Oh, sorry,” the officer said. “Everybody go to the library.”
And here they were, waiting for someone to come get them and tell them what to do next.
“How are you holding up, Red?” Jason whispered.
It was on the tip of her tongue to say
Better than poor Hildy,
but she realized that might sound like a joke, and there was nothing funny about a murder. “I’m fine,” she said instead.
“Yeah? Let me see.” He put his hand under her chin and tipped her face up so he could make his inspection. “Is that why you’re shaking like a leaf? Because you’re fine?”
“That was an unpleasant shock, but in the grand scheme of things I’m fine,” she assured him. “How are you?” She lifted her hand and touched his cheek. Though he was supposedly a seasoned cop, she knew the only murder victim he had ever encountered before today was her biological grandmother, Barbara Blake. While she, Lacy, had been the one to find Ed McNeil. Somehow the fact that they were tied in the dead body department didn’t make her feel any better.
“I’m fine,” he said. He turned his head to the side, pressing his lips to her palm. “What are the chances that I could get you to take a nap before they’re ready for us? You’ve only had a couple hours of sleep.”
“So have you.”
“Yes, but I’m used to that. This feels like daylight to me. It’s weirder to sleep at night and be awake during the day like all you non-nocturnal humans.”
“What do you do on your nights off?” she asked. She couldn’t believe they were having such a normal discussion in the middle of something so awful.
“It depends on what I have going on. Sometimes I keep to my original schedule, stay awake all night, and sleep all day. And sometimes I flip it if I need to run errands or mow. I don’t think my neighbors would appreciate it if I mowed at three in the morning.”
Listening to him talk was making her relax. Her eyes drifted closed and she fought to open them again. “Sleep, Red, I’ve got you,” Jason whispered, and she did.