Page 86 of The Game Is Afoot

“Um, hi, Detective Berry! I—I know who did it! It’s Hank and Florence Michael—”

“Ms. Miller,” she cuts me off, her voice dripping with condescension and irritation. “It has come to my attention that you have been harassing Detective De La Rosa.”

“Harassing?” Yeah, it is my second call in, like, twenty-four hours, but I’m not harassing him! I’ve been giving him valuable information—information that they’ve acted on.

“This is inappropriate and cannot go on. If you continue to call the station with false tips, we will pursue the fullest of consequences. Goodbye.”

And then she’s gone. My one hope for justice here—for my own protection—is gone. And two murderers could realize at any moment that I’m the only person who knows they did it.

God, what do I do, what do I do,what do I do?

I walk the perimeter of the house, checking all the windows and doors, making sure they’re locked, just in case. And they are. I’m safe, I’m fine. And I’ll call my dad! He knows people at the police department. He’ll be able to get them to listen.

There’s a low growl, and then the clicking of Polly’s nails as she jumps off the couch and breaks into a ferocious bark. My stomach drops with fear, but it’s okay, the door is locked, stay calm. No one can get in. I’m safe, I’m fine. And she only barks at old people and babies—Hank and Florence are neither. A delirious giggle bubbles up in my chest at the thought of baby Hank and Florence toddling up to my door. It’s notthem. It’s probably Ms. Joyce, already mad at Mackenzie for something new. I’ll let her in so I’m not alone. Safety in numbers. We’ll call my dad together.

The lock turns and I’m nearly knocked over by a rushing wave of sweet relief. It has to be my dad. I’m safe! I’m fine!

But dread hits me next, followed by overwhelming, paralyzing fear, as Hank and Florence Michaelson walk right in, Marigold strapped into a carrier on Florence’s chest. Before I’ve even taken a step back in retreat, Hank closes and locks the door behind them.

Twenty-Five

“How did you get in?”As if that’s really what’s important right now. I would have been better off going with a “Stay back! I’m armed!” Or even just a simple, “Ahhhhh!”

Florence sighs and holds up my keys, with the sparkly-beadedMom of the Yearkeychain. Marigold’s eyes light up as she reaches for them, nearly knocking off Florence’s wide-brimmed hat. “These were in the door. You really should be more careful.”

“Did you tell anyone?” Hank instantly closes the space between us.

“Yes,” I say, trying to keep the fear from creeping onto my face. “I called the detectives. They’re on their way now.”

Hank mutters a curse and takes off his almost identical hat, running his hands through his greasy brown hair.

“She’s lying,” Florence snaps. “We need to get her away from the door, Hank. She can’t get out. Do you understand that? We’ll be ruined. Axel and Marigold will have no one.”

“Of course I understand,” he says, glaring at her. He turns back to me. “Go to the, um, living room. Sit down. Now.”

I follow directions. I’m too scared to do anything else. AndPolly follows at my feet, hopping up on the couch and rolling over onto her back, as if these are just new friends over to rub her belly. For the millionth time, I wonder why I don’t have a vicious guard dog. It would be really useful for times like these.

“Puppy!” Marigold says, clapping her hands with delight. I’m pretty sure that’s the first word other than “no” I’ve ever heard her say.

“Are you stupid, Hank? Get that thing out of here!”

Hank rolls his eyes but does what she says. As he grabs Polly by the scruff and gathers her up in his arms, I immediately take back every complaint I’ve ever made about her. I don’t want a vicious guard dog. I just want her unharmed.

“Don’t hurt her!” I call after him. Thankfully, I hear the back door slide open and then slam shut without any yelps or whines. It’s only once he’s back and I know my puppy is safe that I realize I should have made a run for it when Florence didn’t have backup.

She starts pacing now, and Marigold glares at her from the carrier. “No puppy! No puppy!”

Florence ignores her. “We have to kill her, Hank. There’s no other option.”

Hank looks almost embarrassed when he considers me. “You were spying on us,” he says, like it’s an excuse. “You brought this on yourself.”

“I wasn’t spying on you. Your voices were being broadcast out of Pearl’s walkie-talkies. Who knows—other people could have heard it, too.” I need to sow doubt, make sure they know they can’t actually get away with this.

But Florence smiles at me. “Oh, we bought her those! She told Axel they were what she always wanted.” She raises her eyebrows and her smile changes into a grimace. “Ipersonally would be worried that the radio waves might be harmful to ayoung brain’s development, pressed so close to their faces like that, but”—she shrugs—“to each her own.”

Is this lady really being judgy about me subjecting my kid to “radio waves,” when apparently her baby monitor has the same kind—or no,when she murdered a man! Her bitchiness knows no bounds.

“We didn’t hear any other voices out of it but yours,” Hank says. It sounds like he’s trying to convince himself.