“What the hell, man?” Dude asked. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
Shelley snorted. “Besides film people without their consent, invading their privacy and compromising their dignity as your entire thing?”
“Nothing wrong with that. It’s funny,” Dude replied.
“Not to put too fine a point on it, luv,” Sean interjected, “but I ain’t a victim.”
Sofia waved a hand in exasperation. “Yes, yes, then why were you invited to be one? Why were each of us targeted? What did we each do wrong?”
“It’s just a chicken!” Sean gestured with the hand holding his highball glass, sloshing a bit of his scotch over the rim. “How many times do I have to say it? People eat chickens!”
“I’ve got nothing to hide,” Warix interrupted. “If we had the internet, I’d even show you my best-of clips.”
“You’re a gamer, so I don’t really know what about that makes you a target,” Cici started. “I don’t know much about gaming.”
Warix shrugged. That sharky smile quirked at Cici. “That’s okay, babe. I don’t know anything about makeup.”
It sounded like the insult it was meant to be.
Plum imagined she could hear the grinding of Cici’s teeth as her jaw squeezed tight.
Marlowe caught Plum’s gaze, then rolled her eyes upward. Plum tightened the tendons in her neck, making a quick gag-face.
“Gamers get in a lot of fights,” Warix continued. “Like personally. It can get ugly, but that’s what makes it so fun. I’m basically famous for going in and wrecking shit. Leeroy Jenkins!–style. And then I mock the people who get mad. I don’t know how I get other gamers to ever believe me that I’m going to play nice this time or be part of the team. But they do. Or they’re building their own followers, so they take the hit for the likes. It’s just part of a larger game.”
Plum tried not to feel a self-satisfied surge at the dismayed expression on Sofia’s face. She and Marlowe had seen Warix for who he was—now Sofia was finally seeing it, too.
“But there’s no law against being a jackhole, so who cares?” Warix reclined even farther, putting his feet up again. “Right, Dude? It’s just comedy.”
Dude looked slightly miffed to be categorized with Warix, then shrugged. “If it makes people laugh, it’s not all bad, is it?”
Warix took one hand off the back of his head and pointed at Dude. “Exactly, exactly.”
“Okay, for the sake of being quick and trying to have the least drama,” Plum said, “how about let’s not be defensive about why we might be here? Just tell us your best guess about why. Who you might have pissed off online or whatever. Maybe we can find commonalities? And that might help us figure out who’s doing this.”
Marlowe nodded and touched Plum’s arm in approval. “Brittlyn was considered a bad influence because of her gun-troll stuff.” Marlowe held up a finger, then a second one. “Warix is probably here because he’s a game troll.”
Warix shrugged and nodded.
Marlowe held up a third finger.
“Dude, you know why. Third verse, same as the first.”
Dude shook his head in vague disagreement but didn’t argue.
Marlowe held up a fourth finger. “Sean, does anyone know about the other Henriettas? Or is there something else you can think of?”
Sean frowned and shook his head. “I’ve not done anything wrong. And, yeah, I get animal-rights activists sometimes, worried that Henrietta doesn’t like her carrier and whatnot. It’s all tosh.”
Marlowe turned to Jalen. “And I’m guessing your podcast is, um . . . how shall I say this?”
Jalen held up a hand. “It’s okay. I’ve already heard it. It’s in poor taste, ghoulish, profiting off the tragedies of other people, exploitative, yada yada yada.” Jalen made a beak shape out of his fingers and mimicked talking with it. “But—before Bloody Grounds . . . I had a YouTube show, Epic Fail. We played a bunch of viral videos, made fun of them. Stuff like that.”
Plum stared at the podcaster. He was starting to seem like the inverse of Warix. The gamer was exactly what he’d seemed to be from the start. But Jalen didn’t look like the kind of person who would host a ghoulish podcast or a mean YouTube show.
And yet, here he was, openly admitting it. So didn’t that absolve him of suspicion for the murders, at least?
“Sounds like there’s lots of possible people who wanted revenge on you, dude,” Dude said, his voice dry. “Guess I don’t look so bad now, huh?”
“So that leaves Cici, Shelley, and Jude,” Marlowe said.
Cici cocked a hip in defiance. “Aren’t you forgetting someone?” she asked.
Plum glanced at Sofia and Marlowe. Then she stepped forward.
“No,” Plum answered, looking down. “I’ll tell you why we’re here. Why I’ve made my two best friends targets as much as myself.”