Chapter 13
?
Which will unravel first: the mystery, or my nerves?
August
Mirabelle and Beth are acting…out of character. I’m not certain why. Neither of them have ever seemed to mind when I’ve shown up unannounced at book club before, even when I’ve hijacked their book conversation to talk about anime.
Which is what I do.
Almost every time.
The reason I’m here tonight is a little more serious than that, but…still.
I have yet to hijack anything yet, and so the odd silence from the two of them is unsettling.
Perched in the single-seater across from everyone else, I nibble on a thumbprint cookie while Lynn and Granee fill the air with talk of their latest racy tale. The scripted tones strike me almost as much as the lack of reaction from the two less-racy readers in the gang.
Normally, Beth chides and Mirabelle flushes when any details get too graphic. I could assume that Mirabelle’s recent marriage has changed her opinion on graphic discussion, but I’m not certain it would. Furthermore, they are definitely looking at each other every so often.
Beth’s eyes carry an edge of warning every time they meet Mirabelle’s. And Mirabelle…well, she looks utterly uncomfortable. Like she might explode. At any second.
If her discomfort were connected to the spicy book talk, she’d say so. Because she has. Every time before.
This is something else.
Something…
Unusual. Strange. Interesting.
“But anyway—” Granee smiles at me—a futile attempt to draw my gaze off the odd-behaving members of the club. “—we’re hogging. What have you been reading lately, August?”
Now, that little comment steals my attention.
I drag it toward my sweet grandmother, who has just asked me what I’ve been reading…
even though as far as she knows the pretty boy she tried to set me up with has been staying up the road from me with my brother.
There’s no way in the world she’d care more about what I’m reading over whether or not pretty boy and I have crossed paths again since, like fated lovers.
That means three out of the four members of this book club are acting out of character.
I grin. “Oh, you know. This and that in between writing. I’m working on a vampire story right now. It’s been lots of fun.” Sourced from real life, even. “But I’m actually not here to talk about books.”
Mirabelle’s eyes dart toward the slatted, bifold closet doors on the other side of the room, and Beth squishes her hand.
Ooh? Fun.
“Oh?” Granee lifts her teacup to her lips. “Do share.”
“Well, if I’m to be perfectly honest—” Mirabelle flinches. “—I’m here to bully you, specifically, Grandmother dear,” I say. “Or perhaps I should say I’m here to bully you publicly, as I’m certain Beth and Mirabelle will take my side, and I might just need their help.”
Granee coughs into her tea while my dear allies pale.
“Us?” Mirabelle squeaks.
“Yes.” I turn a radiant smile on the two of them. “You see, within the past month, I gave my grandmother a binder containing pertinent information about my perfect male lead and my perfect romance.”
“O-oh,” Mirabelle chokes out.
I turn my attention back to my beloved Granee. “I’d like it back.”
Bemused, and—for the record—anxious, Granee now also cuts her gaze toward the closet for half an instant. “Why?”
“I don’t trust that you won’t attempt to put it in the hands of some poor, unsuspecting individual—whom I most assuredly would not like to see it.
” I absolutely do not need external input muddying the waters of the story I’m currently working on, especially if those waters were sourced directly from December.
Mirabelle makes a wholly distressed sound, then deflates, having a crisis that Beth hastens to soothe.
Granee chuckles—nervously. “Now…August…don’t be silly.”
My smile stretches as my nerves pinch. A level of derangement takes hold, and I flutter my lashes.
“I…don’t think I’m being silly, at all.” My voice pitches and lilts.
I shift my attention to Lynn, who appears stoic and normal, apart from the rampant and obvious judgment on her face as she beholds her three companions.
She catches my eye and smiles. Correctly.
Which, when it’s so clear that something is going on, terrifies me.
She says, “Nevermind the binder for now. I’m certain your grandmother will get it for you the minute she’s back home.
How are things going with my unfortunate almost-renter who’s staying with your brother?
I’m very grateful that the situation worked out, since getting his rental situated is proving rather on the difficult side of complicated. ”
Ah. Well. Look at that.
A plot hole.
I might actually throw up.
How thrilling.
Chewing my cheek, I say, “Oh. Well. I should actually be asking you how my brother’s rental is doing, what with the faulty wiring and all.
I don’t mean to be…” I hum. “Anxious? But, I don’t know.
Would it at all be possible to call Micheal in to take a look at my wiring, too?
I’d hate for more fires to further push what you’re dealing with into the complicated side of difficult.
A preventative measure might be cheaper in the long run since I think the buildings on that street were constructed around the same time by the same teams, weren’t they?
If one has faulty wiring, the others might, too. ”
Lynn, a sheer beast apparently, does not flinch. “You make a very, very good point, dear. I’m sorry I didn’t think of it sooner. I’ll absolutely schedule Micheal to take a look.”
“Thank you so much. I mean, when you hear that your brother’s bed caught on fire with him in it, it’s a little nerve-wracking, isn’t it?”
“Naturally,” she says, faux concern pinching her brows. “I’m grateful he wasn’t hurt, and I’m so sorry it happened. There weren’t any signs at all. I make sure all my buildings are up to code regularly.”
“Yes, I know. You’re vigilant when it comes to keeping your properties in the best shape imaginable, aren’t you?” My smile softens, and I turn to look straight at the closet as I finish off my cookie. “Pity. I’m also fairly vigilant in some areas.”
Everyone tenses.
I stand.
“N-now, August,” Granee says, voice wobbling, “what do you think you’re—”
I open the closet door and find the absolute most harrowing thing ever.
Scrunched inside, amid a slew of shoes and jackets, is Dominic holding my binder.
Staring at me, he whispers a curse.
My heart pounds. “Vampiric knave. Have ye taken to spying upon me in your latest schemes?”
His eyes cut past me, taking in the others, then he winces. “I’m…not sure. I kind of…was just shoved in here.”
“Indeed? Well.” I turn. “Gentle ladies, it’s not polite to shove men into closets.” I harden my tone, drop my smile, and breathe through the thundering in my chest. “Dominic. Why are you here?”
A pause. “I was…calling upon the wisdom of The Council.”
“Poor Mirabelle,” I murmur, crossing my arms. “The rest of you should be ashamed of yourselves. It’s one thing to be scheming. It’s another to drag someone who doesn’t scheme into the mess.”
Frail, Mirabelle whispers, “I’m sorry. I promised.”
“Yes, I’m sure they made you. I’m not upset.
” I grin and turn to face Dominic. “Not at all.” My eyes lower, to the binder in his arms, and I wince.
“Well. Maybe I’m a little embarrassed, but that’s a different sort of upset.
” I point. “You should know that’s not entirely accurate information.
It was…tampered with. At a degree I’m not even sure of myself. ”
“I was made aware of that minutes ago, yes.”
I extend my hand, and he delivers the binder without any fuss.
My mind works, and I assess what I know.
Dominic is here. With my binder. He’s here because he’s calling upon the wisdom of The Council.
He has access to Lynn, who has access to my grandmother.
It could be as simple as him prepping for our lake date this weekend and attempting to obtain information from people he knows who know me better than he does.
After Sunday, he could have reached out to Lynn and asked if my grandmother might be open to talking with him about my likes and dislikes.
Then, Lynn may have invited him to book club for the discussion.
It’s not a far-fetched possibility.
Granee would absolutely take the opportunity to bring my binder and give him the best “fighting chance” she could. If the behind-my-back recon was meant to result in a truly spectacular date, then maintaining it as a surprise would lead to this outcome.
Nevertheless, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m grounding my assumptions in far too much speculation and also far too much trust in the story I’ve been given so far.
It’s a fatal error to make.
Why?
Because.
I’ve just learned that Granee isn’t the only one scheming against me.
Lynn’s in on this in a way that goes deeper than right now. And if she’s been in on it since the start, who’s to say Dominic hasn’t also been? Who’s to say that this entire thing isn’t a part of the scheme?
I face Lynn.
She holds my gaze. Unflinching.
I shudder. “You’re frightening, Lynn.”
She smiles, sips her tea. “Am I?”
“I respect it. Pray tell, how in the world did you lot convince my brother to be in on this?”
Her eyes close as she continues sipping. “I’m certain I’ve no idea what you mean.”
“I’ve deduced that there was no faulty wiring at all, because the bed I was told went up in flames wasn’t Wynn’s. It was Dominic’s.”
“Oh? My mistake. I am elderly. It’s understandable that I’d mix up details—on top of everything I’m handling at the moment. All I know is I got a call and organized a solution.”