Page 52 of The Dysfunctional Family's Guide to Murder
“About going into town.”
“Maybe. We’d have to come up with a story for our parents, though.”
Dylan finally locates the tea bags and makes the tea. I can tell it’s too weak without tasting it, because he didn’t leave the bag in long enough, but I don’t say so.
“There’s something else,” I say, keeping my voice low now that we no longer have the cover of water molecules boiling themselves into a frenzy.
“What?”
“I need to do something, and I think I need you to help me.”
“Anything for you, Watson.”
“I—wait just a minute. If anyone’s Holmes, it’s me.”
“What about: You’re Enola and I’m Sherlock.”
“Hard no.”
“Enola’s cool.”
“We’re getting off track. I need a favor.”
“What is it, Sherlock?” Dylan takes a gulp of his tea. “Did that feel better? Or did it feel wrong, and you realized in your heart you’re more of an Enola?”
“Dylan.”
“You’re smiling.”
“I am not,” I lie. “This is serious.”
“It sounds it.”
“Can you get the grown-ups out of the house tonight? Just for like twenty minutes.”
Dylan gets serious. “Tonight?”
“Only for twenty minutes.”
“Why?”
“I have something I need to, uh, follow up.”
“What is it?”
“I can’t tell you. But I need to search the house.” Technically, I only need to search one room, but I can’t tell him that I suspect his mum and Shippy stole something from GG, which is now concealed in their bedroom.
“Didn’t youjustcall this a partnership, and now you’re doing the thing all detectives do in books where they leave the sidekick in the dark until the last ten pages?”
“I’m not hiding anything big,” I lie some more. “I just can’t tell you right now. But I will.”
“Is this about the missing box? Do you know where it is?”
What’s one more lie between (half) cousins, really? “Maybe.”
“So where—”
Aunty Vinka comes into the kitchen and stops when she sees the pair of us talking with what she clearly deems to be a suspicious amount of intensity. I lift my tea in her direction. “We just boiled the kettle if you want a cup.”
