Chapter Twelve

"Amos, you've been reading too many of Jessica's books."
"Well, that's how much you know, Ethan. I haven't read any of them."
(Murder, She Wrote)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ LibriCon 2014 ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

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COMMENT 7 of 42
The dead bodies were kind of a bummer.

Sunday

The banquet was almost anticlimactic.

The food, of course, was superb. Ducky and I ended up on different teams for the murder mystery; we both lost. Marguerite and Janet ended up on the same team; they won, and said it was all due to the photographic memory of Jenny Keppler—she remembered every nuance of every book she had read, and came up with weird twists even Anne hadn't thought of. Anne planned to steal her to help on next year's murder mystery, and Marguerite was hiring her as a companion to keep her parents at bay. Things were looking up for Jenny, that's for sure.

And, yes, there would be another convention. Metropolis Insurance had assured Cilly that the convention was in no way liable for the criminal acts of an attendee and this did not impact her 30-plus year history with the company. Which was a good thing, because someone had left a sheet of poster board at the empty registration table. Headed WE WANT PRE-REG FOR LIBRI 2015! it had at least three hundred names and email addresses on it before Jonathing discovered it and spirited it away.

The consuite was closed to general public. The concom and a very select few of the guests were upstairs getting happily plastered. Jenny was the only non-guest attendee in the room; Cilly had agreed, hearing she was definitely going on the payroll as Marguerite's assistant. Nobody knew about Marguerite's 'problem'—Janet had heard a whisper about her kleptomania (in passing, from Lu, when one of Patrice's oblique references wasn't quite so oblique), and she wasn't saying a word. With Patrice no longer around, Janet and Marguerite discovered they could actually be friends—and Janet cheerfully volunteered to go with Jenny and keep her father in line while she packed. I got the idea she was hoping he didn't stay in line; she was spoiling for a fight. Jenny looked like she had won the lottery. I think she was pinching herself to make sure it wasn't a dream.

"Feet off the furniture," Ducky mumbled.

"Not my furniture," I said. But to appease him, I grabbed a throw pillow from the couch, put it on the coffee table and set my feet back. He rolled his eyes.

2130. On cue, my cell phone rang. "Hi, Mommy!

"Hi, trouble!"

"I'm not troubow!"

"Yes, you are, but I love trouble." I rolled my eyes. Well, some kinds of trouble.

"Did you have fun? Was Mimsy there?"

"Yep. Mimsy is here, even. We're up in the consuite. Yeah, it was fun," I half-lied. I ignored Cilly's snort.

"I wish I had gone," she said wistfully.

"Honey, it's not like I-Con. You would have been bored stiff." I winced. Actually, my kid would have probably jumped right in. She's gone to NCIS any number of times, including Take Your Child to Work. She probably would have volunteered to help interrogate.

"Okay," she said reluctantly. "I just wanna say good night."

"Night-night, sweetie."

"Auntie Ev wants to tawk to you, I'm gonna caw Daddy on the other phone." With that, I heard the scramble of the receiver being handed over.

"We caught the news. You guys had food poisoning? How bad?"

"Ah…" With the arrest of Barbara Bedicker, the correct information would be all over the news by tomorrow. "Not exactly. Someone put Ipecac in the punch at one of the teas."

"What an asshole. Other than that, you had fun?" Good sales?"

"Spectacular sales. We had three murders," I said flippantly. Ducky's cell rang; undoubtedly Lexi on second round of good nights.

"Dang! Lily, we should have gone to the con! They did three murder mysteries this year!"

Over Lily's, "Aw, shoot!" I tried to correct Ev. "No, these were murders. Three murders."

"Yeah, at the Sunday banquet. Anne should go pro, I don't know how she does it every year—"

"No, Evvie, there were three murders."

"I know, I don't know how she kept three of them straight—"

I pulled the phone away from my ear and looked at everyone in the room helplessly. Cilly shrugged. "Ev… you're going to see it on the news. Moira Devereaux was murdered."

"Oh, my god!"

Good. I finally got through to her.

"That's bloody brilliant! Was she pissed when she found out?"

I almost groaned. "Ev, this wasn't for the banquet murder mystery. This is… for real. Moira was killed. Louise, Janet's assistant? She was killed. Patrice Ingram-Ashcroft? She was killed."

"Poor Lu, she must have been the innocent bystander."

"And how."

"But Pat and Moira must have been fit to be tied—"

This was beginning to feel like a repeat of Faye Kellerman/fake Hillerman. "Ev!" I said sharply. "When I say Charles Manson, what do you think?"

"Nutjob," she said promptly.

"What was he convicted of?"

"Mur—oh, shit. You don't mean—"

"Yep."

"This parrot is deceased. It is an ex parrot. It has ceased to exist."

"Yep."

"All three?"

"Yep."

"Why?"

"Watch the news tomorrow."

"Lily—they weren't for the murder mystery. They were for real! For real?" she asked back to me.

"For real," I confirmed.

"Holy shit."

"Hey, watch your mouth around my kid. I try to, you should, too."

"She's in the kitchen. Holy shit! Who did it?"

It would be on the news… "Barbara Bedicker has been arrested and charged." I could hear the blank stare over the phone. "Her husband is Paul Bedicker. P.R. Bedicker." I rattled off a list of his books.

"Oh my god, I blanked on the name. I love his stuff. He was there? I wish I had gone…"

"Trust me," I said grimly. "You don't."

We parted company and I promised to give her all the details the next day. Well, all that I could. Ducky had blown kisses to Lexi on the phone and had put his cell back in his pocket.

Janet had a faraway look and was stroking Mimsy almost absentmindedly. "Dare I ask what you're thinking?" I asked cautiously.

"How many people will put this weekend in a book…" she said.

"Murder at the ABA," I said.

"Murder at the War," Cilly suggested. "Okay, it wasn't a con, but…"

"Bimboes of the Death Sun. Zombies of the Gene Pool." Ducky had read both of them during the first convention I took him to. He was still disappointed that Sharyn McCrumb hadn't put out another in the series; I told him to get in line.

"Sci Fi," Jonathing added.

"Which one?" Janet asked, puzzled.

"That was the title. Sci Fi. By William Marshall. Takes place at a con in Asia."

"The Renaissance Faire mystery series," Jenny suggested timidly.

"Probably half a dozen from this weekend," I said with a tired sigh.

"Even worse…"

Cilly and I both gave Ducky a hesitant look. "Yeah? What?" I asked.

"How many people will think Louise, Patrice and Moira were part of the entertainment—and expect to see them next year?"

I shuddered even as Jonathing said, "Performance art to the max."

Janet's faraway look was growing more thoughtful. "I've… got an idea…"

I covered my ears. Count me out!