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“It’s nothing, Mrs. Winter.”

“It’s not nothing. You’re hiding something in there. What is it? And why didsheuse that word?” She points at Simone.

“What word?”

“‘Dead.’ I heard someone say ‘de—’” Her hand flies to her mouth. “Is my son in there? Is hedead? Didyoukill him? Oh, you killed him, you killed him.” Her voice rises above the din of the party.

“No, Mrs. Winter,” I say. “He’s not dead. He’s not. It’s someone else in there, not Fred.”

“I told him to stay away from you,” Mrs. Winter says to Simone as she strains against me. “I told him nothing good would come of it. But does he listen to me? No. No. My poor boy. My poor son. My love, my love, he’s dead.”

She flings her hand against her forehead and slumps against me.

Deadweight, I think, because I can’t help myself.

But she’s not dead. Not even fainted. Not really.

She’s just overcome by her dramatic self.

I lower her to the floor as the music stops abruptly. I crouch down, fanning my hands in front of Mrs. Winter.

“A little help here?” I say to Simone and Connor.

“She just accused me of murder,” Simone says.

“You seem to be handling this well on your own,” Connor drawls. “I’ll go find...Ah, here she is.”

I follow his gaze, and here comes Officer Anderson with her jacket off and her gun out.

“Step back, everyone. Step back slowly.”

I stand, leaving Mrs. Winter against the wall, and follow directions as a crowd gathers behind us.

Whatever I was hoping to do a few minutes ago—to tamp it down, or cover it up, or pretend it never happened—there’s nothing I can do about that now.

73I was sick for days and vowedneverto do any research again.

74Not my best work.

75I know this because ofresearchI conducted on theinternet. Not because I’ve tried to do it.

CHAPTER 23

If You Gather All the Suspects in a Library, Will Someone Confess?

“How long is she going to make us wait in here?” Mrs. Winter asks an hour later, her voice rising to a level that could reach the farthest row in a dinner theater.

“I’m sure she’ll be here soon, Mother. Just try to relax. Did you take your pills?” Fred looks to his father, who I don’t think has said two words since Officer Anderson asked us to wait in here half an hour ago.

I told Officer Anderson what I found, but that’s obvious since the dead body is kind of hard to miss. I explained about meaning to go to the bathroom as I slipped my shoes back on and said something about my feet killing me, which I don’t think Officer Anderson bought and Connor definitely didn’t.

A problem for later. Regardless, I left out the time I spent alone with the body or the fact that I thought Ken was Connor or Fred. The second isn’t relevant, and the first could get me thrown in jail.

Officer Anderson phoned the body into her headquarters on the mainland, and then there was a debate about what to do about the party.

Could it continue while someone lay dead in a broom closet?

It could, apparently.