Page 32 of Always Murder

I waited, but nothing more came.“What happened to Paul?”

“Uh, theykilledhim.”

I drew a deep breath.“Are you sure he’s dead?”

Ryan rubbed his knee some more.Finally he said, “I mean, he’s not answering his phone or anything.And nobody can find him.And you were helping him, and everyone knows that you’re, like, a jinx, and that’s why people always die when you try to investigate a murder.”

My.jaw.dropped.

“Ajinx?”

Keme shrugged.

“In the first place,” I said, “people don’t diebecauseI’m investigating.They die because there’s a murderer trying to cover his tracks.Or her tracks.”I tried to stop there, but more burst out.“And I don’ttry.And it’s not always murder!”

Ryan did that thing that drives otherwise sane, reasonable people to homicidal sprees: he shared a look with Keme and rolled his eyes.Then, his expression changing, he said, “That was pretty dope how you snuck up behind me.How’d you do that?”

“Window,” Keme said.

“Nice.I never thought of that.”

“It’s called an arrow slit,” I said.

“Bet you could sit up there and snipe all day,” Ryan said.

“I did that once,” Keme said.“On top of the wall.”

“Holy—” Ryan broke off and looked at me, of all people, and then mumbled, “—uh, shoot.That’s so fire.”

“Behind the crenellations,” I said.

“How’d you get up there?”Ryan said.And in what he probably considered his manager’s voice, he said, “You’re not supposed to go up there.”

“There’s this spot,” Keme said.“You can use one of the lights to brace yourself.”

“That is seriously so dope,” Ryan said.

Keme shrugged.

“Like parkour,” I said.

They both looked at me.Silently.For what felt like a long time.

Let me tell you: it was not flattering.

Finally, Ryan turned to Keme and said, “What’s his deal?”

“Books.”

Ryan made a sound, like this one-word response from Keme had somehow explained everything.

“Okay,” I said, “if we could get back to the topic of, I don’t know, your brother’s murder that you don’t seem all that torn up about.”

“Are you kidding?”Ryan said.“I’m a wreck.I can’t sleep.I can’t eat.”

And yet, I thought, Hot Pockets.“Based on what you told me, it sounds a little premature to decide he’s dead.Unless there’s something else?”

Ryan’s head moved in a slow, uncertain no.

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