Page 28 of Always Murder

So, what was the real problem?

The obvious answer—based on last night’s interaction—seemed to be me.

The steel-cut oats slid down my craw in a thick glob.

Well, Idefinitelydidn’t want to think about that.

Instead, I tried to drag my mind back to my investigation, if that’s what you could call it.I was half-tempted to tell Millie I was done.We’d already talked to the people at the freight company.Paul, it seemed, had lied to us and then, as the Brits say, done a runner.There wasn’t any reason for me to continue to poke my nose in where it didn’t belong.

Unless something had happened to Paul.

If I could just find him—or, barring that, convince myself nothing bad had happened to him—I could call the whole thing off.Iwouldcall the whole thing off.

As soon as I was sure Paul wasn’t, you know, dead.

I considered texting Millie, but then I decided against it.I wanted to talk to Ryan, and I had the sneaking suspicion that having Millie there might make Ryan clam up.Between bites of oatmeal, I dug out my phone and looked up the number for Pirate’s Cove Laser Tag and Mini-Golf.It was listed on Google as anentertainment multiplex, which sounded like the name for a movie theater in the ’90s.I placed the call and navigated my way through the automated system by screaming, “Agent,” every time it asked me for a choice.(You’d be surprised how often it works.)

Sometime around my third “Agent!”, Keme appeared in the kitchen doorway.The boy was still in board shorts, but today’s outfit consisted of sneakers that I was pretty sure Indira had gotten him for his birthday, and a flannel I knew Bobby had given him.His long hair was tied back.He gave me a considering look and then started typing on his phone.

“Pirate’s Cove,” a voice brimming with excitement said.“Avast, me matey, how can I help you?”

“Is Ryan Naught there?”I asked.“He asked me to look at a go-kart.”

“Yep!He’s here.Hold on, let me—”

I disconnected.

Keme looked up from his phone.There was judgment in his eyes as he said, “You’re going to fix a go-kart?”

“I’m going to get some answers out of Ryan Naught if I have to beat them out of him.”

I’m not even joking: Keme’s eyes literally brightened.He raised his phone hurriedly, tapped out a few more words, and shoved it in a pocket.When I passed him on my way out of the kitchen, he followed me.

“No,” I said.“You’re not going.”

He kept following me.

“Absolutely not,” I said when we got to the front door.

Halfway across the lawn, I said, “I’m putting my foot down.”

When we were both settled in the Pilot, I said, “Listen to me, young man—”

“Please.”

I sensed a trap.

Shifting in his seat, Keme fiddled with his seatbelt as he muttered, “David and Elliott are taking Millie’s parents to a winery.”

I waited, but that was it.“And if I don’t give you an excuse not to go, Millie’s going to drag you along.”

He shrugged and stared down at his lap.

I thought about my chances of surviving the next sentence, and then I decided to go for it.“Is everything…okay?”

Keme’s head came up slowly.

“I just mean,” I said in a rush, “I know relationships are complicated, and I’m definitely not great at them, but if you ever need to talk…”

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