Page 142 of The Body in the Backyard

“Welcome to the sleepover,” Fred said, adjusting his bedtime toupee, which was attached to a striped night cap. He was stretched out at the foot of the fold-out couch.

“This is stupid, and I hate it,” Josie said, arms crossed on the couch.

Mrs. Penny, in an extra-large Ludacris T-shirt and plaid pajama pants, was wedged between Josie and Brian with headphones on and a game controller in her hand. She and Brian appeared to be battling against snot-slinging trolls on screen.

Lily popped up into a seated position from her Hello Kitty sleeping bag on an air mattress near the patio doors. She had curlers in her hair, and this time it was a blue mask on her face. “I saved you a spot right next to me, Nick,” she said with a wink.

“I am delighted to be part of this sleepover,” Gabe announced.

“We sewed two sleeping bags together for you. But we couldn’t find your jammies, so I guess you’ll just have to sleep au naturel,” Lily said to him, batting her eyelashes coquettishly.

“I’m going to sleep in the car,” Riley decided. But Nick’s hand on her shoulder held her in place.

“Sorry, Thorn. No one goes out by themselves.”

“I’ll sleep with your girlfriend in a car far away from here,” Josie volunteered.

“Can it, Chan. We’re sticking together…and taking shifts upstairs to make sure no one breaks in and finishes the job on Griffin,” Nick added. “My mother will kill me if henchmen get blood on the carpet.”

Riley covered her face with her hands. “This is the worst night ever.”

He pulled her in for a hug. “Look at it this way. It’s either this or air mattresses in your parents’ backyard.”

“Yes. I’d rather do that. I don’t even need an air mattress. I’ll sleep on the cold, damp, chicken-infested ground.”

“Come on, baby. How bad could it be?”

“Oh my God.Seriously? Was that an air mattress or another fart?” Nick demanded, punching his pillow into submission.

“Does it even matter at this point?” Riley asked wearily through the blanket she had pulled up over her nose and mouth.

It was four in the morning. Josie had just relieved Nick in the guarding of Griffin’s bedroom door, and Riley hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep yet.

The only basement resident who seemed to be sleeping soundly was Burt. The dog had wriggled his way up between Nick and Riley, turning himself into a canine wedge. His cold wet nose was nuzzled against Riley’s chin.

“Just try to get some sleep,” she told Nick. “You’re grumpier than usual on no sleep.”

“I’m never grumpy. I’m a fucking ray of goddamn sunshine.”

The door at the top of the stairs opened, and she heard the scamper of feet. Griffin appeared, hugging a pillow to his chest.

“Can I sleep with you guys?” he asked. “Bella snores.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Nick groaned into his own pillow.

Mr. Willicott popped up from his air mattress. “Someone saywaffles?”

“No one saidwaffles!”

“Stop yelling, Nick,” Riley yelled.

Fred sat up. His toupee was askew across his forehead and one eye. “What’s all the ruckus? Did the murderer get in yet?”

“No. But I might decide to do them a solid and finish the job myself,” Nick said.

“How did you get past Josie?” Riley asked her ex-husband.

“She was in the kitchen eating peanut butter and growling like a bear,” Griffin explained. Apparently tired of waiting for an invitation, he stepped on Riley, Burt, Nick, and Mr. Willicott to get to the couch. “This is nice,” Griffin said, settling himself under the covers next to Brian, who had worn his gamer headphones to bed.