No, it was still there, under only a moderate layer of pizza boxes and laundry. I cleared it with a few quick shoves and settled down for my rest.
I had to rearrange my position three times before I found one that Castor, Pollux, and I all liked. Then I opened the orange soda and took a long swig. Ambrosia. And where had I gotten the idea that packaged cheese crackers were junk food? I’d had artisan cheeses that hadn’t tasted this good.
I ate and drank until I could hold no more—which took less than ever these days, with the kids squishing my stomach to miniscule proportions. Then I pulled an afghan over me and curled up for a well-deserved nap.
Chapter 14
“Are you sure you don’t want a nice cup of tea?” Rose Noire kept asking me. “Just one cup of tea?”
She was holding out a teacup. Toxic fumes billowed out of it and bubbles rose to the oily surface and popped, as if some small but sinister aquatic monster lurked and breathed in the depths of the cup. She began lifting it to my mouth as if to help me drink.
I woke up and saw with relief that I was still alone in the alcove. Nobody was bending over me proffering glasses of herbal swill or dainty cups of poisoned tea.
“Tell me what you put in her tea,” a woman’s voice said out in the main part of the room.
I glanced down. No tea on the floor beside my sofa, only the empty orange soda can.
“Forget it.”
I recognized Ramon’s voice.
“Danny saw you.” Bronwyn. “From the basement door. I made him promise not to tell the police until I talked to you.”
“Yeah, right. He’s probably already gone running to the cops.”
“No, he’ll do anything for me. So tell me.”
I held my breath. Danny would do anything for Bronwyn? Was Ramon reluctant to speak or was he, like me, pondering how Bronwyn had managed to win that kind of loyalty?
“Some of my sleeping medicine,” Ramon said finally. “Just a couple of pills. I didn’t want to hurt her. I just wanted to buy some time until I could figure out what to do.”
“How many pills?” Bronwyn asked. I almost nodded in approval.
“Three,” he said. “The stuff’s not very strong—I usually have to take two of them myself to get any effect. I’ve taken three on a bad night. It couldn’t have killed her.”
“No,” Bronwyn said. “From what I heard, she was hit over the head with that horrible hippopotamus statue. Of course, they don’t yet know why she just sat there and let someone whack her on the head with the hippo. She didn’t strike me as the type to just take a nap when she was in the middle of screwing with someone’s life. So there must be some reason she was snoozing.”
“My sleeping pills?” Ramon asked. Bronwyn must have nodded. He groaned.
“Don’t tell anyone,” Bronwyn said. “I’ll get Danny to keep quiet. It’s not your fault what the killer did, and with luck they’ll never figure out about the sleeping pills.”
“Thanks,” Ramon said.
I heard a few soft murmurs and giggles—Bronwyn and Ramon kissing and making up, probably. I tuned them out and thought about what I’d heard. Was Ramon telling the truth about the pills? Or had he slipped something deadly into Dr. Wright’s tea? If he was the poisoner, was the rumor that she’d been hit over the head reassuring him or making him more wary?
“Come on,” Bronwyn said. “Nearly time for rehearsal.”
“How can we have a rehearsal with the police camped in the library?” Ramon asked.
“Professor Waterston said we could use the barn.”
“You really think Blanco will let us do the show?” Their voices were beginning to fade as they walked toward the other end of the living room.
“Blanco? He’s not going to give us any problems,” Bronwyn said. “Without Dr. Wright to give him a backbone, I bet he doesn’t have the guts to stop the show.”
“And if you’re wrong?”
“Then maybe the killer will come back and bash him, too.”
“Bron, that’s horrible.”
“I’m only saying what we’re all thinking,” she said. “Come on—we should start the rehearsal on time.”
I heard their footsteps disappear in the distance.
Apparently, while I was asleep, the chief had made progress in his interviews, if Bronwyn and Ramon were at large and even thinking about starting a rehearsal. And maybe it was a good thing they were moving the rehearsals to the barn before they began using the real zucchini.
How long had I been asleep? I glanced at the clock on the mantel, which said a quarter past twelve, as it had for the last month—it was an antique clock Mother had given us that required winding weekly, which no one had bothered to do since the students moved in. Probably not a practical clock for the busy family we were about to become, and absolutely no help at the moment.