Page 51 of The Dysfunctional Family's Guide to Murder
“Coincidences do happen, but, yeah, it’s weird.” In the heat of my desire for someone to confide in, I’ve neglected to consider how to work my way fromRob’s accident might have been related to GG’s deathtoSay, do you think your mum had anything to do with it?
“Shippy says Rob definitely didn’t seem to know GG,” I say, instead of what’s in my head.
Only as I say this does it occur to me that Shippy might have his own reasons to pretend Rob didn’t know GG.
Dylan sets out two cups beside the boiling kettle. “Sure, but the thing about Shippy is: He’s an idiot.”
My laugh comes out like a honk. All this nervous energy has got to go somewhere.
“Did you know Shippy’s name is Matthew?”
“Yeah, of course. What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Matthew.M.” I wait for Dylan to get there, then lose patience and just drag him all the way up to my point. “The letter on the missing box: ‘forM.’ ”
Dylan doesn’t look as impressed with this as I’d hoped. “If the box was for Shippy, why wouldn’t Gertie just give it to him, though? We were here together all weekend.”
“I guess,” I say, grumpy.
“Don’t you think it’s a bit suspicious that Rob was asking about everyone in the photos?”
“Not really.”
“It’s a weird thing to do.”
“It’s polite chitchat.”
Dylan is going through the cupboards looking for tea bags. “I thought maybe he asked about the photos because herecognizedGertie or thought that he did.”
“Okay…,” I say, not hating this.
“Maybe when he saw that photo, he realized he knew something about her death.”
“Something that almost got him killed.”
“You’ve gone full Benoit Blanc, and I’m into it.”
“Shut up.” But I’m pleased. I love those movies.
“You know what I think we should do?”
“Murder Shippy in his sleep and blame it on the killer?”
“Go into town and try to talk to some people who knew Gertie. You know, sniff around.”
“You’re not a beagle, Dylan.”
“I was thinking more like one of those pigs that can sniff out truffles.”
“They always look so pleased with themselves.”
“The pigs?”
“Yeah.”
Dylan laughs. “Okay. What do you think?”
“About the pigs?”
