“I can’t believe you lost my dog.”
“I didn’t lose him. He’s right there.” I gestured to the floor. “He’s fine.” Cone of shame notwithstanding. I took a few shallow breaths. Deep ones felt a little rough on the stomach. “And besides, I thought he wasn’t your dog. I thought he was going back to the pound.”
“Don’t listen, Stanley, and don’t worry, I’ll never leave you with her again.” Freddie looked up at me. “You know what else I can’t believe?”
“I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”
“I can’t believe you all thought I’d freak out that your mother was fortune-telling.”
“I didn’t know for sure that you would freak out. Mrs. Watson was the one who—”
“Mrs. Watson,” Freddie said, lying back down. “You know she’s just mad because I once predicted someone else’s granddaughter would win the Most Beautiful Baby contest at the fair.”
“Oh, that’s the unpleasantness my mother was talking about.”
“And I wasn’t as grumpy as you’re making it sound,” Freddie said, staring up at the ceiling. “Although you were a hot mess.”
“I will admit the night got off to a bumpy start,” I said, running both hands over my face. “But from what we have pieced together so far, nothing that murdery had happened at this party. Threatening letters, yes. Murder, no.”
“Oh, that part’s coming,” Freddie said.
“Are you sure?”
“It will go down as a dark, dark time in Otter Lake history.”