Chapter 14 Ransom
Ransom
Dinner is winding down.
The room is filled with the warm scent of roasted chestnuts.
Anika and Thomas are in bed, and Latika has placed the baby monitor on the dining table so we can hear them.
Giselle stands up. “I just want to say,” she begins, a little wobbly, glass in hand, cheeks flushed. “This has been such a beautiful evening. We are lucky. So lucky to be here, to be together, and to—”
She suddenly gasps. And then slumps dramatically back into her chair.
There’s a beat of stunned silence.
Then Poirot—who’s actually a guy called Luc, an actor Margot hired from Lyon and who’s leaning so hard into the mustache and Belgian accent it’s almost performance art—stands and claps once.
“Ah! Mesdames et messieurs! We have a murder!”
Groans, laughter, and delighted exclamations ripple through the room.
“Non, non, do not move the body!” Luc says with a flourish, circling the now-‘dead’ Giselle.
“She has died tragically, mysteriously, and possibly with poison. Or perhaps—a dagger to the ego.” He winks.
“You have all received envelopes. Inside, you will find instructions. Allegiances. Secrets. Some of you”—he lifts a brow dramatically—“may not be as innocent as you seem.”
The room erupts into noise. Everyone grabs their envelope.
Calypso reads hers with a frown. “What is this?” she asks, voice pinched. “Do we have to pretend like…pretend-pretend?”
“That’s generally how games work,” Aunt Tanya says mildly.
“Miss Teresa Alan is in a secret affair with someone in this room,” Margot reads from hers gleefully, narrowing her eyes like a cartoon villain. “And it’s not Jean.” She elbows her husband, who raises his wineglass with a grin.
“Call me General, darling,” Jean says lasciviously.
Margot raps his head with her card.
“Team time!” Luc declares. “You will be paired. But the murderer is among you. So, trust no one. Especially not the charming ones.”
Ember and Heidi team up and immediately dissolve into laughter as Heidi pretends to faint due to the stress of losing her sister.
Across the room, Aksel is already arguing with Latika about the French translation of a clue.
Racquel, bless her, has served dessert and seems to be relishing her one line of dialogue, “But I saw him slip something into Mademoiselle Allen’s wine!”
Giselle, who is supposedly dead, is enjoying the tarte tatin. “This is so good! My compliments to Chef.”
Calypso and I are paired, which, frankly, is tiresome, as is she.
“This is silly,” she mutters.
“It’s just fun, Cali.” I keep my voice neutral despite feeling a burn inside me.
She shoots me a look. “Is this how you spend your Christmases?”
There is an accusation in her tone, which I ignore.
I watch Ember across the room. She’s interrogating Jean, accusing him of sabotaging her alibi with tremendous Ariadne Oliver-esque flair.
Everyone is glowing. The couples are all in it together.
Freja is cackling as she plants “evidence” in the piano bench. Jonathan is flirting with her as he’s also trying to detect if she’s the killer.
Everyone is having fun.
Except….
I turn back to Calypso. She looks bored. Uncomfortable. And suddenly, very far from me, though she’s sitting right beside me.
I turn to Aksel to ask him some questions based on the information I have.
He straightens his cravat—yes, he’s actually wearing one—and replies in a ridiculous Downton Abbey accent, “My dear Dr. Blackwood, I do believe you’re insinuating something most unbecoming.
I was in the conservatory with the inspector and a very respectable bottle of brandy. ”
Freja, who is walking by, groans. “You sound like a butler who’s been hit on the head.”
“Possibly,” Aksel replies, unfazed. “But the question is, am I a butler with a motive?”
Calypso snorts. I turn to look at her. “You look tired, Cali. Maybe you should head to bed?”
Enough is fucking enough.
She straightens and gives me a tight smile.
“I’m fine.” She rises and goes to the bar to pour herself some port, and stands there, watching everyone run around asking questions and finding clues with disdain.
I haven’t yet had a chance to speak with her about her telling Margot we were nearly engaged…like in what fucking universe? But I wanted to wait until after Christmas to have that showdown. It seemed rude to have a huge fight before, which may (probably would) require her to leave the chalet.
Besides the fact that I can feel how Calypso and I are simply not compatible, not even as companions, I am also very aware that who I truly want is over there in a ridiculous hat, accusing Tanya of having arsenic in her purse.
This game might be fake. But my feelings, I know, are not.