Page 42 of A Winter of Discontent for Henry Milch

“I beg your pardon?! That’s none of your business.”

Zoey nudged me, and asked, “What do you think? I think seven.”

The choices were: 0, 1, 5 and 7.

“Five,” I said.

“Really? You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

Zoey wrote down the answer and ran it up to Ed.

Patty leaned in and said, “I have an alibi, since you asked. I just don’t see why I should have to tell you. You’re not a policeman or anything.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“It doesn’t matter if you believe me. I have an alibi.”

“Yeah, you probably do. I don’t believe you were being dramatic when you said Bobbie killed a man. I think you meant it. And I think you should tell me who she killed. And how she got away with it.”

Now she paled and looked frightened. She glanced at Brian as though he might rescue her, but he was cringing as Zoey hooted loudly because the answer was five, just like I’d said.

Patty got up and walked away. Odd, very odd.

Ed announced that we were still tied with the Bookworms and that none of the other teams had any points. I leaned over and said to Brian, “So, you’re Patty’s neighbor?”

He looked surprised that I’d spoken to him, and said, “And friend. She’s always been kind to my family.”

That could mean a lot of things. I bit my tongue, and said, “Yeah, people up here are really nice.”

“Oh they are, aren’t they?” Zoey agreed.

“Not everyone,” Brian said.

“Really?” I said, hoping he’d elaborate. He didn’t. “Did you know Bobbie LaCross?”

Zoey giggled. “Everyone knew Bobbie.”

“She lived next door with Patty for a long time,” Brian said. “Too long.”

“The next question is, Which constitutional amendment protects against self-incrimination? The First, the Second, the Fourteenth or the Fifth.”

I rolled my eyes. Could this really be that easy? Before I could provide the answer, Brian said, “Fifth.”

Zoey nodded enthusiastically, wrote down the answer. I asked Brian, “Was Bobbie one of the people who aren’t really nice?”

“You’re awfully nosey.”

“He’s a private investigator,” Zoey explained for me. “He’s working for the winery Bobbie was suing.”

“Isn’t that over? Since she’s dead.”

I nodded, then added, “Also, because she was lying.”

Just then Emerald shifted in her sleep and wrapped a tiny arm around my neck in a little hug. I tried to ignore how much I enjoyed that. I was also trying to ignore how much my arm had begun to hurt and the fact that it time to change her diaper.

“Where’s the men’s room?”