He opened the door. “What am I looking for?” he asked.
“Mayonnaise?”
I peeked over his shoulder. Sure enough, the three barrels of mushrooms were gone.
I should have known! Bill knew Kevin would come back with a search warrant. No wonder he hadn’t wanted to show Kevin the blackmail letters. Had he opened the closet, Kevin would have seen the mushrooms.
“Bill took them out two nights ago. Right after you and Dad left,” Riley said from behind me.
I jumped. My heart pounded. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!” Then I realized what he said. “Took what out?”
“The mushrooms.”
“You knew about the mushrooms?”
“Not until you said you overheard him scheduling a delivery. I knew something weird was going on around here, but didn’t know what.”
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Heather Webber
“Well, it’s of no use now. I can’t even say for sure if they were the hallucinogenic kind.”
“I’ve got one,” Riley said.
“What!”
“I came in and took one that night. I had a feeling. I was just waiting to show Dad.”
“Where is it?”
“At home.”
I looked at Jean-Claude. “Plan C.”
“Do I get a raise for this?” he asked.
“No.”
I followed the two of them out the door and was just about to turn out the light when I spotted something on the floor, caught under the door.
The corner of an envelope. I tugged, ripping a gash in it.
But the words on the front were still clear. “Bill Lockhart.
Personal.”
Maybe the officers executing the search warrant had dropped one of Bill’s blackmail letters by mistake?
I turned it over.
Sealed tight.
The hair on the back of my neck stood up.
“Nina? You coming?” Riley called.
I stuffed the letter in my waistband, pulled my shirt over it.
As I closed up behind us I wondered how it was possible for Greta to blackmail Bill from the grave.
My mother was a bit surprised to see us back so soon. Very surprised, if the way she was blocking the doorway was any indication.
“Mom?”
“Yes,
“Let us in?”
231
“Now’s not a good time,” she said, trying to look noncha-lant.
Hmmm. What went wrong now?
“Look, there’s Gerard Depardieu!”
Her eyes widened and she craned her neck. I pushed past her. Half my living room ceiling was on the floor.
“Whoa,” Riley said.
I looked at my mother. “A little complication from the water leak the other day.”
I practiced Tam’s Lamaze breathing again.
Riley ran up the stairs, came back down a minute later, a hard-hatted man behind him. His tool belt jangled. “Mrs.
Ceceri,” he said to my mother, “the upstairs is not safe. Until we get a structural engineer in to assess the damage, the whole place really isn’t safe.”
