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money and more. He’s in debt up to his eyelids.”
    â€œWhoa,” I said.
    â€œIt would be immoral for him or anyone like him to end up with a million dollars,” Olivia continued. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “How would you feel about forming an alliance?”
    â€œAn alliance,” I repeated. Repeating stuff is also a good way to keep a suspect talking. And I wanted to know as much about what was going on in Olivia’s mind as possible.
    â€œI’m thinking me, you, and maybe Wilson—I’m still deciding about him. Maybe even one other person, if there’s someone worthy,” Olivia went on.“I think we should include four people, tops. If any one of us wins, we split the money equally.”
    â€œTwo hundred and fifty thousand each. That’s a lot of money,” I said.
    â€œI know.” Olivia’s eyes were shiny with excitement.
    â€œWhy’d you decide to ask me?” I said.
    â€œBecause of the situation between you and your brother. It’s so unfair,” she explained. “And because I like how you keep your head in a crisis. You didn’t hesitate when you pulled Leo out of the pool. You went into CPR immediately.”
    â€œSo did Joe,” I reminded her.
    â€œJoe.” Olivia sneered. “Joe’s been eating off a silver platter since birth. He doesn’t deserve any more.”
    â€œWhat exactly would I have to do as part of the alliance?” I wanted to know.
    â€œDo your best to win,” she told me.
    That sounded okay.
    â€œAnd do your best to make sure that everyone who isn’t one of us loses,” she added.
    I couldn’t help wondering if that included murder.
    â€œScrambled eggs? Plain scrambled eggs? Aren’t you supposed to put tomato or mushrooms or spices in them?” Ripley wrinkled her nose as shestared into the frying pan on the stove.
    â€œWatch out, Joe, she’s gotten seven chefs fired,” Kit said from her perch on the countertop next to the toaster. “Or was it eight, Rip?”
    Ripley turned her back on Kit, and I thought I heard her counting to ten under her breath.
    â€œI guess I could put in some of that stuff.” Joe pushed the eggs around the pan with the fork. “Except I’m not sure there’s time.”
    â€œThere isn’t,” I told him. “Another thirty seconds, and you’ll have added the fine flavor of charcoal.”
    Joe pulled the pan off the burner. “I guess we’re ready to eat.”
    â€œThe table’s set,” Mikey said, joining us in the kitchen. “I hope nobody cares about whether the forks and knives are on the correct side. I can never remember. But I guess there’s a fifty percent chance I got it right.”
    Four pieces of toast popped up, and Kit immediately reloaded the toaster. “Cooking is fun!” She took a big gulp of her coffee.
    The timer on the stove went off. I glanced at Ripley. She didn’t move. “That’s for your Tater Tots.” She stared at me blankly for a few seconds. Then she nodded.
    â€œRight. So all I have to do is take them out of the oven, right?” she asked.
    â€œMaybe add a little caviar and parsley,” Joe teased.
    Ripley narrowed her eyes at him but didn’t say anything. She managed to get the Tots out of the oven without hurting herself or anybody else.
    â€œBreakfast!” Kit shouted into the intercom. I wondered if she completely understood the intercom concept. Then she slurped some more coffee, grabbed a plate of toast in each hand, and left for the dining room.
    I took the bacon, Joe took the eggs, Ripley took the Tots, Mikey took the juice, and breakfast was served.
    â€œNo peanuts, right?” Bobby T asked when he took his seat at the table. He looked good, like he hadn’t had a near-death experience last night.
    â€œNo peanuts, no