to switch up the schedule a little to allow you plenty of time to buy your cameras and phone cards, so let’s plan to meet in the lobby in a half-hour to announce the winner of today’s geocaching leg. Dinner’s at six o’clock in the hotel dining room, and downtown stores will be open until nine this evening in case you diehard shoppers want to buy souvenirs. Lucky for us we’re in Wick on a Wednesday when things are bustling. I’m told it’s pretty dead around here the rest of the week.”
_____
The hotel lobby was an unremarkable space with a stone fireplace, threadbare rug, and furniture that might have been purchased from the local resale shop. My guys occupied the tatty armchairs near the windows, hands cradling their cell phones and eyes locked on their screens in the hopes that service would soon be restored. Bernice and Lucille bookended Cameron Dasher on the ledge fronting the fireplace, looking thrilled to have beaten out Dolly by a half-step for the plum seats beside him. Dad sat off in a corner by himself, shoulders slumped, staring at his shoes. Everyone else was scattered around the room in conversational groupings, squirming incessantly to maintain traction on the vinyl upholstery. I’d seated myself strategically across from Bill Gordon, because even though my bottled water theory had been blown to bits, I wasn’t dismissing the idea that he could still be guilty of swiping the dagger. I just needed to isolate him from the crowd for a few minutes so I could do a little investigative probing.
“Is everyone here?” Mom stepped into the center of the room.
“Etienne and Wally are missing,” I advised. “They’re helping the valet staff deliver luggage.” Since the “valet staff” consisted of a one-armed pensioner with a hunched back, bow legs, and one tooth in his head, it seemed the practical thing to do, especially since there was no elevator.
“Well, I can see you’re all as excited to hear today’s results as I am to announce them,” Mom clutched her tabulations in her fist. “So without further ado—”
“Us folks on Team One wanna request a change,” Nana spoke up as she raised a polite hand in the air.
“No changes!” Dolly Pinker decreed. “The rules are set and we’re sticking to them. End of story.”
“Hold it right there.” Stella Gordon narrowed her eyes at Dolly. “The lady wasn’t talking to you, so you can shut your trap.”
“I don’t care who she was talking to. We’re not changing the rules.”
“Bugger that.” The words burst from Bill Gordon’s mouth like sonic booms. He stabbed his finger at Dolly. “My Stella has as much right as anyone else in this room to have her say, so you shut your trap.”
“Don’t you dare speak to me that way, Bill Gordon. None of us is interested in what you have to say anymore.” Dolly hiked her sleeve to her elbow, baring the colorful bruise on the underside of her forearm. “You see this? It’s here because you were sooo cocksure of yourself on that boat yesterday, you nearly got us killed. It’s a hematoma. Do you know how dangerous hematomas are? I could develop a blood clot and die!”
“Gee, that’d be a shame,” Bernice said out the corner of her mouth.
Bill shot a defiant look around the room. “You mean to tell me, this is the thanks I get for trying to save all you people?”
“If you hadn’t been so grabby, you wouldn’t have broken the throttle,” Dolly accused. “And if you hadn’t broken the throttle, we might have been able to stop before we hit the damn dock!”
Head-bobbing. Nods of agreement.
“So that’s the way the wind’s blowing, is it?” His face grew ugly. “Ingrates. If it ever happens again, you can just sit there and suffer.”
“We already are.” Alex braced his palms on either side of his jaw and gently turned his head. “My neck is killing me, and if it gets any worse, guess whose butt is going to end up in a sling?”
Oh, God.
George raised his hand. “What does that mean exactly?”
“It means Alex is going to sue Bill’s ass,” Erik said helpfully.
With order starting to fray around the edges, I made a preemptive move and let fly a piercing whistle that silenced the group like an industrial-size mute button. I didn’t dare wait for Mom to restore order.
She couldn’t whistle worth beans.
“Thank you, Emily,” Mom said when she stopped wincing. She smiled at the crowd. “Maybe you can take up the exciting issue