Page 56 of Always Murder

Then Indira looked at me.

So, I know I go on and on about how sometimes she has this really witchy energy.It’s the lock of white hair, sure.And it’s the fact that sometimes, she literally knows what you’re thinking.And sometimes it’s because when she looks at you, it’s like you’re being hypnotized, and I found myself about to spill everything, what was actually bothering me: the weird maybe-fight with Bobby, and the fact that I hadn’t seen him, really seen him, in so long, and how it all made me think about that horrible time after he’d broken up with West, and basically my working theory that somehow Bobby and I were making all the same mistakes, and even though I could see what was happening, I couldn’t seem to stop it.

Instead, I blurted, “Millie and Keme had a fight.A real one.”

Indira’s dark eyes softened.Her mouth relaxed, and I realized a moment later that it was shock.

I knew it wasn’t any of her business.But it wasn’t mine either.And in its own way, it had been as upsetting as my own uncertainty about things with Bobby.

“I don’t get it,” I said.“They’re obsessed with each other.Keme literally waited for years to date her.And now it seems like they’re arguing all the time.”

Indira began gathering up waxed paper and rolls of cute holiday tape and foil bread pans—all the accessories for packing up the bread—and arranging them neatly at the end of the counter.When she spoke, her voice had a control and detachment that I recognized, but that I hadn’t heard in a long time from her.

“Dating someone is very different from being their friend, as you know.”

“Well, yeah.”I mean, Ididknow that.It just sounded extra…wise when Indira said it.“But it’s like they’re talking past each other, or like they can’t even hear each other.And they used to be best friends.”

“Every relationship is complicated.And I’m a firm believer that unless you’re part of that relationship, then you don’t have a full picture of what’s going on.You overheard a couple of conversations, Dash.If someone happened to overhear a couple of conversations between you and Bobby, isn’t it possible they’d walk away with a mistaken impression of your relationship?”

I wanted to sayno.I wanted to say that if someone overheard my conversations with Bobby, they’d probably come to the perfectly correct conclusion that, to borrow a Fox-ism, my cheese done slid off my cracker, and that Bobby could (and probably should) do a lot better.

But what about over the last few days?The way Bobby had asked if he could turn off the light.The way he’d said,Thanks.

Indira must have read the emotion on my face because she said, “They’ll be all right, Dash.They’re still figuring things out.”

“But I don’t want them to figure things out.I want them to be young and happy and in love.I want things to be easy for them because they’re so cute together and because they’re perfect for each other.”

Indira nodded.She smiled, and it was a small, sad smile.And then she stroked my hair.

It wasn’t something she did often—I wasn’t even sure if she’d ever done it before.But all of a sudden, I was about to cry.

“Things are going to be okay,” she said, drawing me into a hug.“Did you hear me?”

And because I never quite recovered from being thirteen years old, I mumbled, “Yes, ma’am.”

Laughing, Indira squeezed me once more and let me go.She checked my face, her own expression growing serious again, and she said, “Do what you can do, Dashiell.You have to learn to let the rest go.”

I nodded, and she left.

It was one of those conversations that feels heartwarming and encouraging and reaffirming until two cups of coffee later, when you realize you can’t actuallydoanything.

First, I wanted to talk to Paul, but I had the feeling that getting past Christine—not to mention trying to find a way to get him alone so I could squeeze some answers out of him—would require either a flamethrower or a magical sword (+3, minimum.Vorpal optional.) (That’s from Dungeons and Dragons.) (God, how am Isucha nerd?If Bobby ever finds out, I’ll probably never have sex again.)

Talking to Ryan was an option, but while it would be tempting to ask him where he’d been when Paul was attacked, I didn’t know how I’d confirm his answer.The same problem went for Angeline and Kassandra.The Naught household was too busy, and if one of them had wanted to slip out, it would have been easy to disappear for a while without anyone noticing they were gone.

Since going back to the CPF warehouse seemed like a good way to get myself arrested, and going back to the Turnleys seemed like a good way to get myself killed, I decided my best option was to stick with my original plan: Paul’s list.

Besides, it was better than another day spent hitting my head against the wall with my manuscript.

Once I was settled in the den (blankie, coffee, etc.), I pulled up the picture of Paul’s list and read over it again.I recognized a couple of the names, but none of them was anyone I knew well.Most of the names didn’t even ring a bell.Hastings Rock was a small town, but it wasn’t like I was a social butterfly, and I tended to know only the people who moved in my circles.(Which sounds better than saying I hadn’t met anybody I hadn’t beenforcedto meet.) About two-thirds of the names had been crossed off, which suggested to me that Paul had been working his way down the list.

I picked the first name I recognized—Dawn Skidmore, who owned and ran the Keel Haul General Store with her husband Eddie—and placed a call.

Dawn answered on the second ring with a none-too-enthusiastic “Keel Haul.”

“Hi, Dawn, this is Dash Dane.I was—”

“I told you: they don’t make those candles anymore.They were for kids’ birthdays, and they were a fire hazard.”

---