Page 25 of Fish and Chip: Nine Lives One Murder
Although technically, Clyde didn’t think it was too soon to find someone new. He didn’t even wait for a separation to do that. He just dove straight into the shallow end of the yoga instructor pool.
I pull out my phone and open the family group chat. Time to check in with my girls.
Josie: Good morning, girls! How are classes going?
McKenna: Mom! OMG, I was just about to text you! How are you? Did you find a place to stay?
Riley: Morning! Are you living with a serial killer? Is Dad being awful?
My heart squeezes.
God, I love them. McKenna is all feelings and freckles. Riley could run a tech startup in her sleep. They’re both sophomores, polar opposites, and miraculously still speaking after living together.
They’re both at Brambleberry Bay University, sharing a dorm room despite running on wildly different operating systems. Somehow, it works.
Josie: I’m good! Staying at the Country Cottage Inn for now.
Clyde: INN? I’m not paying for that. When are you coming home?
And there he is. Like a bad rash in text form.
Josie: Don’t worry, I got a job. I’m covering my own expenses.
Clyde: Ha! Who would hire you?
Twenty-five years of marriage, andthat’shis opener.
My fingers freeze over the screen in lieu of his neck. But I’ll get to that soon enough. After all, I’m in my homicide era.
Riley: DAD. Stop!
McKenna: So not cool.
I take a deep breath. The girls don’t need to be caught in our crossfire.
Josie: I’m the new manager at Huckleberry Hollow WonderlandTheme Park.
McKenna: WHAT??? The theme park??? That’s so cool!!!
Riley: OMG MOM! Free tickets??? Can we bring friends? Do we get season passes?
Typical. Riley goes straight for the perks while McKenna sends heart emojis and congratulations.
Clyde: That dump? Guess you’ll be running it all the way into the grave.
Unfortunate phrasing, considering the recent corpse.
Josie: The park has potential. I’ve got to run—busy day ahead! Love you both.
Josie: Goodbye to you too, Clyde.
I add that last part for the girls’ sake, though I’m tempted to tell him exactly where he can stick his opinion—and it’s probably where he’s sticking his yoga instructor.
I set the phone down and rub my temples.
We should establish a systematic approach to solving this crime,Fish announces with her tail wrapped around her paws as if she were trying to handcuff herself.
Or we could just follow our noses to the nearest person who smells like murder and guilt—and maybe old bacon,Chip suggests, sniffing the air as if another felony were afoot.
