Page 7 of Always Murder

“Ryan’s a manager there?”I asked; I was fairly sure that was what Christine had said, but I wanted to be sure.

“And he can get the cards for free, and it doesn’t cost him anything!I don’t know why he’s being such a butt-munch about it.”

“Right, well, let’s save The Mystery of Why Ryan’s Being a Butt-Munch for later.Why don’t you tell us what happened?”

“Nothing happened,” Paul said, and he unpaused his game and started to play again.“Ms.Hernandez is a jerk.”

My gut was telling me a few things.First, that (apparently) I had little patience for an overgrown man-child, even though I might be one myself.Second, that Paul’s lack of concern was genuine—which, in my book, made him an idiot.And third, that I should agree that Paul didn’t need my help and get the heck out of there.

Millie looked so distraught, though.

“Paul,” I said, “can you stop playing your game for a few minutes?I want to ask you a few questions.”

“Why is everybody being a dill hole tonight?”he said.“I told you, I don’t need—”

That was when Keme unplugged, well, everything.

The TV went dark.The lights on the Switch turned off.In the absence of Zelda music, the silence suddenly felt thick.

Then Paul screamed, “What’d you do?I didn’t save my game!”

Keme stood there, arms folded, a power cord still hanging from one hand.He looked about as satisfied with himself as an eighteen-year-old can.

“Are you kidding me?”Paul’s voice continued to rise.“What is wrong with you—”

“BE QUIET!”

I’m not joking: Istaggered.

Keme took a step back.

Even Bobby swayed, although he caught my arm and kept me upright.

And Paul rocked back in his gaming chair like he was about to go tail over teakettle.

“STOP TALKING,” Millie continued, hands on her hips as she loomed over Paul.“You’re being a—a BRAT!”

A ringing silence followed.I checked my ears for blood.

“Now sit up straight and answer Dash’s questions,” Millie said.

Paul sat up straight.The movement wasn’t all that coordinated, and his eyes were a little glassy.

“And be polite,” Millie snapped.

Paul’s head jerked in a nod.

“And if you ever say ‘dill hole’ again, I’m telling Mom, and she’ll wash your mouth out.”

In the wake of all that, you could have heard a pin drop (if your eardrums hadn’t ruptured.)

“All right, Dash,” Millie said.“Go ahead.”

“Right,” I said.“Uh, right.So, they fired you yesterday.Is that correct?”

Paul nodded.

Millie put her hands on her hips again.

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