Unfortunately, right when our investigation was getting off the ground—like for real, not like earlier—we found Candace had passed out in Matthew’s bed, curled up beside Stanley, with an oxygen mask on her face. She had adamantly refused to go to the hospital, and Dr. Reynolds felt there wasn’t much of a risk seeing as her exposure hadn’t been that long and her vitals were good. As an added bonus Mr. Greer, our old high school custodian, had a spare oxygen tank in his van. He had emphysema. Jessica and Dr. Reynolds were taking turns watching her. So far the official story was that the latch on the door had fallen into the locked position by accident. Freddie and I thought it best to stick to that story until we could talk to Grady. While Grady was skeptical of pretty much every theory Freddie and I had ever come up with, he had also once grudgingly admitted that we had a way of shaking evidence free. Plus he would be more likely to know about any enemies he and Candace might share. Oh! Plus, plus he was sheriff. Couldn’t forget that.
“You know,” Freddie said as we headed back toward the party. “This disappearing act of Grady’s really isn’t helping his alibi.”
“Well, he’s got to be here somewhere,” I said, scanning the crowd. It wasn’t normally difficult to spot Grady. It was like spotting a supermodel dressed in couture at a mall. He kind of stood out. It was really starting to worry me.
Freddie took his phone from his pocket. “I’ll get Tyler and his friends on it too, but in the meantime, I’ll search the west side of the house. You take the east.”
“Got it.”
We fist-bumped.
“Go team.”
Freddie disappeared in the crowd as I scanned the room again. Hmm. Before I left for the less crowded rooms of the house, maybe it wasn’t a bad idea to do some asking around. No better people to start with than the twins. They were right where I had left them at the blackjack table. Poor Carl looked kind of worn out. His hair was a bit mussed and his collar was open. Unfortunately for him, I doubted the twins would be vacating their seats any time soon. They were the types that once they had found a comfy spot, they were likely to settle in for a good long time.
“Hey!” Tweety said when she spotted me. “Finally. Again, we’ve been looking everywhere for you.” She turned to Carl. “Go get yourself a coffee, kid. We’re just getting warmed up.” She then turned back to me. “So there’s a new rumor going around that you and Candace were wrestling in the snow and then you locked her in a shed.”
“And by the looks of you,” Kit Kat said, jumping in, “I’m guessing at least part of it is true.”
I looked down. The hem of my dress was a little worse for wear. The boots didn’t exactly add anything to my outfit either. I had dumped my shoes in Matthew’s room. They were pretty much unwearable. The snow had stretched out all the faux leather.
“Yes, I was wrestling with Candace in the snow. That’s exactly what happened. Have you two seen Grady?”
Kit Kat squinted at her sister. “Not in a little while.”
“He was looking for Candace earlier,” Tweety said. “And he was muttering something about being sent on a wild-goose chase.”
I sighed. “Look, I need to ask you guys something before I go track him down.”
They waited.
I took a quick look around to see if anyone was watching us. Great, now I was turning into Freddie. “Who told you the Candace and Grady rumor? You know, that they were breaking up, and Candace was worried Grady might…” I shook my head. “It’s too ridiculous to even say.”
They looked at each other again, probably sharing a telepathic moment.
“Alma, wasn’t it?” Tweety asked.
“Or was it Marg?”
“Marg,” I said, chin dropping to my chest. “You were gossiping with the woman who accused you of adultery and murder two falls ago?”
Kit Kat straightened, looking mildly offended. “Yeah, what’s the big deal?”
“Life is too short not to forgive your neighbors,” Tweety said before taking a sip of … something. It was fluorescent blue.
“Especially when they own the only salon in town and have all the best gossip,” Kit Kat added, lifting her own neon-pink drink. They clinked glasses.
I guess they spotted the look of horror on my face because Tweety held hers up to me and said, “These froufrou drinks aren’t bad. Mine’s an Aqua Blue Cruise.”
“Pink Passion,” Kit Kat offered, copying the gesture. “That Mrs. Watson sure knows how to run a martini bar.”
I shook my head. Amid the worry of the twins dying of liver disease, I couldn’t help but wonder how the would-be murderer managed to get the poisoned drink into Candace’s hand—if that was indeed what had happened. I’d have to add that to the list of questions to ask her when she came to. “Right,” I said. “So you’re more forgiving of people than I am, but it’s really important that you remember who you heard the rumor from. Marg? Or Alma?”
They exchanged another look.
“I think that’s the thing,” Kit Kat answered while her sister nodded. “They’d both heard the rumor.”
“From who?”
Tweety stroked the ends of her loose bow tie as she leaned back in her chair. “Neither said.”
“Well, do you think you could find out?”
“Maybe.” Kit Kat scratched her chin while giving me a considering look. “What’s going on? Is this about that whole poison thing earlier? Is someone really after Candace?”
I sighed. “Are all the details really that important?”
Tweety’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, I think so, yes.”
“Here’s the thing,” I said, running my hands over my face. I couldn’t help but wonder if I had any makeup left on, and if so, how badly was it smeared? Oh well, at least the look would match my snowmobiling boots. “I am concerned that if I tell you what Freddie and I think we know, you’ll tell everyone here, and that could…” I didn’t quite know how to finish that sentence. It might actually be a good thing if I had Kit Kat and Tweety spread the news that someone was trying to frame Grady for Candace’s murder—like a counterrumor to the original rumor—but I was also pretty sure it could backfire in all sorts of ways. It was hard to articulate those ways other than to say that most of Freddie’s and my plans did backfire, but—Oh! Maybe it would tip the murderer off to our investigation and get us killed. At least that’s what they were always saying on TV. Sounded … possible. My head hurt. “If you tell everyone,” I tried again, “that could be … bad … or not. I’m really not sure.”
“Did Candace hit you in the head while you were wrestling, honey?” Tweety asked. “You’re not making much sense.”
“No, she did not hit me on the head. We actually had a really nice talk.” Again, hopefully, a really nice talk that she would remember when sober—I really wanted to make an offer on the Arthurs’ place. And plus, you know, it was nice to have a new friend.
“Well, I’m not sure we can really be of much help unless we know what’s going on,” Tweety said.
“She’s right.” Kit Kat dragged her bottom lip through her teeth while shaking her head. “The gossip industry is all about fair trade. You want us to get the good stuff, you got to be willing to give the good stuff.”
I stared at them both in turn. They had totally just made that rule up because they wanted to know what was going on, but maybe if they did, they’d be extra motivated to help. Unlike my mother, they liked Grady. And more importantly, they had a really solid old-school sense of justice. “Okay, here’s the deal, while I can’t say anything for certain, it is looking more and more possible that maybe—”
“You want some trimmers for that hedge?” Tweety asked, making her sister cackle.
“Someone might be trying to kill Candace. And it is possible they’re trying to set Grady up to take the fall for it.”
Kit Kat’s laughter died.
“And, I’m willing to bet that whoever has been spreading all the rumors is the would-be murderer.”
The sisters lifted their glasses in identical motions and took identical sips while staring at me with an intensity that was almost creepy.
“So…?” I asked. “Will you help me?”
“Oh, we’ll help you,” Kit Kat said.
Tweety jabbed a finger down on the table. “Nobody uses the gossip mill for true evil.”
“The mill is for slightly evil entertainment-type purposes only.”
“Right,” I said slowly.
“Plus, I’m glad that we get to be part of an investigation again,” Kit Kat said.
Tweety nodded. “Yeah, you’ve been freezing us out lately.”
“Okay, well, good.”
The twins didn’t move.
“Can you do it like now?” I asked.
Tweety frowned. “Like right now?”
“Yes.”
“But we were just getting comfortable,” Kit Kat added. “And it takes a while to break a new dealer in.”
“Do you want to be part of this investigation or not?”
Tweety groaned as she lifted herself off her stool. “Fine. Fine. We’re going.”
“And don’t say anything to anybody about why you’re asking. We still don’t know what we don’t know.” It suddenly occurred to me that if I wasn’t careful with this information, Grady could end up spending New Year’s in his own department’s jail cell. Yup, that was probably the best reason for keeping all suspicions on the down low.
“Sure. Sure,” Tweety said. “But in this kind of information swap I wasn’t lying about needing to give the wheels a little grease in return, so what’s your official story for what happened between you and Candace on the back lawn out there?”
“Say whatever you need to about me to get the information. I don’t care.”
“Got it,” Kit Kat said.
“Ooh!” Tweety whacked her sister on the arm. “Maybe we can say they’re thinking of entering one of those polyamorous relationships and—”
“No,” I said, holding up a hand. “No. Do not say that.”
“But you just said—”
“I know what I just said, but I didn’t mean…” I took a deep breath. “You know what? Just get the information. And maybe don’t tell me how you’re going to do it.”
Kit Kat popped a new cigar in her mouth. “I think that’s best.” She linked arms with her sister. “Let’s roll.”
“Keep an eye out for Grady too,” I called after them.
They shot me an identical thumbs-up.
I looked around the sparkling room filled with happy people in glittering clothes, but there was only one person I wanted to see.
Where are you, Grady?