“Hah!” Livingston chirped on a whistle. “I knew a lad in Hell. Name was Gorgan; of all the names in the word, his dear old ma chose that ugly duckling, she did. Anyway, he enjoyed another’s pain, too. One time, when we were all in the pit—”
“Livingston,” Coop chastised as she paused the video and glared at him. “Do not speak of the pit. It was an awful, awful place where hideous things happened, and we mustn’t bring that kind of negativity into our home. It has no place here.”
But Livingston bristled, his feathers lifting as he spread his wings in indignation. “Oh, for the love of Shamus, Coopie. I’m in the middle of tellin’ Trixie a tale. Why do you always interrupt when I’m gettin’ to the good parts?”
She narrowed her gaze at him. “Because stories of the pit aren’t for human consumption. I don’t ever want Trixie or Higgs to hear of the atrocities that occurred there. Now hush and let us hear what Corinne has to say. This is more important than your pit woes.” She clicked play again and, as I listened, my eyes widened.
“That’s right, my little tea drinkers, it’s your girl Corinne, and the tea is hot and scalding today for sure!” She pretended to sip from an imaginary cup as she gazed coyly into the camera then smiled slyly. “So prepare for your eyeballs to roll to the back of your heads because word on the street is…” She paused for a moment and leaned into the camera, her eyes glittering salaciously. “Susie Masters has a bun in the oven—and it ain’t a breakfast roll, kiddies!”
All the blood drained from my face. Oh dear.
This Corinne began telling over eight hundred thousand of her YT subscribers that Susie was pregnant and Luca was the father.
I blanched, my head spinning. How had she gotten her hands on this information?
“Trixie?” Coop said, nudging my shoulder. “Did you hear what she said?”
My head moved up and down in a slow nod. “Yes,” was the only word I could manage. Oh, poor Susie.
Tapping her finger on the table, Coop redirected my attention. “She told you this information about her pregnancy, didn’t she?”
Blowing out a breath, I confessed. “She did. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but she asked me to keep it private, Coop. A confidence is a confidence. I tried to honor that as I warred with whether the information would help Tansy. But seeing as there’s no official investigation into Mitzy’s death yet, I decided I could keep it to myself. But I promise you, I’d encourage her to tell Tansy if they decide this was murder.”
Coop gave me a blank stare, but it was a sincere one, filled with her special brand of genuineness. “I understand, Trixie Lavender, and I believe you, of course. It’s very sensitive information. This is why I’d trust you with anything, because you can keep a confidence.”
You bet your bippy I could. Gosh, this was awful. Poor Susie. “So how the heck did Corinne find out?”
“If you listen to the video, she claims it was from an anonymous source.”
My coffee bubbled in my belly like toxic waste. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know if I should call Susie and inquire about her state of mind, see if she was okay, or if I should simply pretend I didn’t see this video of Corinne and her scalding-hot tea.
Oh! If I never heard those inane words again, I wouldn’t be sorry. To obliterate someone’s private life just to garner subscribers infuriated me.
Hopping up from the table, I began to pace our wood floors, gnawing on my fingernail. “This is awful, Coop. She told me that in confidence, and she said she hasn’t told anyone else for obvious reasons.”
“Did Susie also tell you her age, too?”
My eyes flew open, and I had to grip the back of one of our dining room chairs. “She did…” I muttered in horror.
What the heck was happening here? It almost felt like someone had been listening in on our conversation.
Coop scoffed. “I’d have never believed she was thirty, Trixie. Would you?”
Oh, hellfire and damnation—someone had to have been listening to us. It was only then that it occurred to me Corinne or maybe one of her spies had been in a stall, and neither Susie nor I had checked them to see if they were occupied.
“Oh, Coop. This is awful.”
“That Susie’s thirty?”
“No! That she’s pregnant and now everyone knows before she was ready to tell them. She didn’t want Luca to know, Coop. Argh! I could just scream. I’d bet you my half of the shop someone was hiding in those stalls, listening to our conversation. Ooo, if I get my hands on this Corinne, I can’t promise I won’t—”
“Trixie Lavender, no violence. That’s not the answer,” Coop reprimanded me, closing her laptop. “Corinne does some very unsavory things to get her hands on a story. So if it was her, I wouldn’t be surprised. I only know I don’t remember if she was at the table when I stomped off in a huff, but if it was her, hiding in the bathroom, you may not take physical action.”
I couldn’t remember either—which is very unlike me.
I smiled at Coop despite how annoyed I was with Miss Dish and Makeup. She was learning to recognize her reactions, good and bad, to situations with a very mature eye.
“Don’t be silly, Coop. I would never hurt Corinne. I might give her a good what for, but physically accost her? That’s not my style.”
Unless we were talking about the Artur in me. He didn’t mind a physical altercation at all. He made me wonder if his manifestation had something to do with a part of me that was frustrated from holding back all those years in the convent. Maybe that’s why he’s so violent.
But every time I tried to think about the whys
