Page 23 of Always Murder

I had been drafted into the Naught family’s Christmas pageant.

And I was starting to seriously suspect I’d made a mistake when I’d chosen manger instead of barrel.Barrels didn’t have to hold babies.Barrels could probably close their eyes and take a quick power nap and nobody would notice.

But it was hard to hold on to all of that when I reached Hemlock House.It looked magical—trimmed in lights that Bobby had hung (while I helped by reminding him repeatedly how dangerous it was to be on a ladder), the windows varnished with a warm, yellow glow, with wreaths and bows to add a touch of holiday color.Its weird chimneys and turrets poked up like ruffled feathers, which only added to the effect, so that the house looked like something you could have plucked out of Dickensian England.(With less tuberculosis and child labor—although if you asked me and Keme, when Bobby really got going on his chore list, we could have used a little more child labor around the joint.)

Inside, the scent of coffee and the sound of voices drew me toward the servants’ dining room.Fox and Indira were sitting at the table there.Fox wore a candy striper pinafore over a whispery concoction (that’s the kind of word you use, as a writer, when you don’t know exactly what something is called) of green velvet.Their hat, which presumably completed the ensemble, sat on the table—it looked like a clock had exploded inside a giant red bird, all plumes and gears and heavy enough to cause serious damage to the cervical vertebrae.I decided I’d tell Fox about the exploding clock description later, when they needed a pick-me-up, because (I’m being one hundred percent serious) they would be thrilled.Indira, in contrast, wore an oatmeal-colored sweater that managed to look chic and fuzzy at the same time, with a pair of jeans.

I had caught them unawares, and for a moment, the two of them existed in their own world.Fox was laughing at something, and Indira wore a smile that seemed strangely…unguarded.She sat there, hands wrapped around her mug, and looked happy.Not that Indira usually lookedunhappy.But sometimes, it wasn’t until you saw the difference that you understood what you’d been missing.

“There he is,” Fox said and burst out laughing again.

Indira’s smile grew wider, and she ducked her head to take a sip of her coffee.

“Great,” I said.“What now?”

“Mr.Cheek was at the market,” Fox said through fits of giggles.“He said—he said—he said if Deputy Delectable was going to throw his life away with a little tart who would never be able to make him happy—that’s you, by the way—”

“Yes, thank you,” I said.“I got that part.”

“—the least Mr.Cheek could do was make sure the little tart was dressed appropriately.”

I didn’t groan.Not out loud.But I did wonder what this meant.Mr.Cheek owned Fog Belt Ladies’ Wear, and he’d had a not-so-secret crush on Bobby since, well, forever.I wasn’t worried; Bobby had laid down some, uh, clear parameters for Mr.Cheek, and when Bobby used his deputy voice, people listened.(Including me.) This new information, however,wasworrisome.Not least because what came to mind, when I tried to picture Mr.Cheek’s idea of the height of male fashion, was Catwoman meets an aging Liza Minnelli.But gayer.

“How was the market?”I asked, instead of following up on that nightmare.

Indira and Fox had spent the day there; Indira made her living—from what I could tell, since she’d told me to mind my own business—from selling her baked goods at various local markets.This time of year, when a holiday market was open every day in Hastings Rock, was a windfall for her, although it also meant she was busier than ever.Fox sold some of their art at the markets, but often they did other things too—activities for children, little crafts or games.You might have thought children would find Fox off-putting, what with the exploding-clock-bird hat (or, on another memorable occasion, what could only charitably be described as a Willy Wonka suit, but with more garters).Not the case—kids loved Fox, and from what I could tell, the affection was mutual.

“Busy,” Indira said.

“Exhausting,” Fox said.“Summon a chamber boy to draw me a bath.”

Sometimes, you just had to ignore them.

But now Indira was looking at me more closely.“What happened to you?”

“I got into a fight with a pine tree,” I said.

“A pine tree is like the aging twink of the tree world,” Fox declared.

This was what I was talking about: sometimes you just had to let it flow past you.

“Are you all right?”Indira asked.“What’s going on?”

I told them about my visit to GaGa’s tree-farm-wonderland-whatever-it-was-called.I left out the conversation between Millie and Keme because I still wasn’t sure what to make of it, but I explained how I’d gone there looking for Paul, overheard Ryan’s strange conversation with a man I didn’t recognize (in a Santa suit, no less), and then lost Ryan before I could talk to him.I must have been on a roll because I even (unintentionally) told them about the Christmas pageant.

“Always pick barrel,” Fox said.“Rookie mistake.”

I nodded glumly.

“Do you really think something’s happened to Paul?”Indira asked.

“I don’t know,” I said.“I do think it’s strange.All of it, actually.Paul getting fired, but not seeming to care.Paul not being worried about the package thefts.And then Millie and I go to ask a few simple questions, and Paul disappears.Whatever is going on with Ryan is super strange too.Hard to believe it’s not connected.”

Indira’s eyes were unfocused as she looked out over her mug of coffee.In a distracted voice, she said, “Those two have always had a way of getting into trouble.Millie had her hands full getting them through high school.”

“Not to mention the sisters.”

Indira wasn’t one for making faces.But she did take a communicative sip of her coffee at that moment.

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