head-slash-brain” comment that under normal circumstances would have oozed out without her even thinking, but Veronique pulled it together enough to ask, “Are you sure it’s good for you? To come out with us?”
“Tiger’s*Eye, it’s so like you to think of my well-being, but don’t worry, my social standing can take being seen with Alyson—”
“Sapphyre.”
“—even if she is dressed like an extra from Star Wars on Ice .”
“What are you wearing?” Alyson demanded. “You look like you’re ready to attend a comic-book convention as Catwoman, version two-point-loser. Are those leather pants? I can’t believe Polly would let you have white leather pants.”
“She isn’t aware of them, but I’m sure she’ll learn to love them as I do. But tell me, how do you know about comic-book conventions? You seem to be very knowledgeable. Do you have a secret life, cuz?”
Veronique gave an audible gasp but whether it was because of what I said or because of the elbow that Alyson planted in her ribs, I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that this was turninginto the Best. Night. Ever. WWMrTD was definitely an excellent life motto.
Things just kept improving.
We went Badly out via the back stairs of the hotel, and wended our way toward Centrale. Veronique had just explained that their faerie names were part of a larger program of spiritual awakening adopted from Spirituality for Dummies , which included talking to the spirits of the departed, when I noticed a spotlight with a large group of people crowded around it on the edge of a canal. Correction: a large group of people, most of whom were in police uniforms.
For six weeks a sight like this would have been a dagger in my eye. I would have forced myself to look and then skulk away, never wondering why there were members of both the police and the coast guard there, or what they were doing with the crane mounted on the back of the ambulance boat.
But not BadJas.
Little Life Lesson 15: Bad loves a crime scene.
Without my even having to suggest it, my feet drifted in that direction until I was standing at the edge of the group. The light was focused on an object, and as I peered over the heads of shorter people, I saw that the object was a body. A body wearing black leggings, a black sweater, and black motorcycle boots with shiny silver buckles.
Arabella’s body.
Chapter Nine
As I watched, they pulled a sheet over Arabella’s head.
My heart started to pound and my knees got weak and I felt tears pricking at my eyes. I couldn’t believe it. Arabella dead? Oh. My. God.
For a moment my brain went completely silent trying to take it all in. Then I blurted in Italian, “This is my fault, officers. I want to make a statement.”
Or that’s what I meant to say.
What I actually said was “I’m the guilty one, Fuzz. I want to confess.” Which, while close, is not exactly the same thing in several crucial ways.
Little Life Lesson 16: Announcing you want to confess to a murder is an excellent way to go from Invisible to It Girl when surrounded by a group of police officers.
Little Life Lesson 17: Referring to the police as “Fuzz” also does wonders for your popularity.
What I meant was that I felt responsible . That if I’d takenArabella seriously from the start and gone to the police or been more encouraging or something, none of this would have happened. But as a meaty hand closed around my upper arm, I had time to think that watching CHiPs , while very educational, might not be the best way to master the subtleties of a foreign language.
Still, it was enough for me to understand it when the voice attached to the arm said, “You again,” and I looked up and saw I was staring into the eyes of Officer Allegrini. Whose gaze wasn’t quite an application for the leadership council of the I-Heart-Jas fan club. In fact his expression was a bit on the ferocious side.
A woman in a suit said, “Take her in for questioning,” and before I knew it I was
“Tiger’s*Eye, it’s so like you to think of my well-being, but don’t worry, my social standing can take being seen with Alyson—”
“Sapphyre.”
“—even if she is dressed like an extra from Star Wars on Ice .”
“What are you wearing?” Alyson demanded. “You look like you’re ready to attend a comic-book convention as Catwoman, version two-point-loser. Are those leather pants? I can’t believe Polly would let you have white leather pants.”
“She isn’t aware of them, but I’m sure she’ll learn to love them as I do. But tell me, how do you know about comic-book conventions? You seem to be very knowledgeable. Do you have a secret life, cuz?”
Veronique gave an audible gasp but whether it was because of what I said or because of the elbow that Alyson planted in her ribs, I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that this was turninginto the Best. Night. Ever. WWMrTD was definitely an excellent life motto.
Things just kept improving.
We went Badly out via the back stairs of the hotel, and wended our way toward Centrale. Veronique had just explained that their faerie names were part of a larger program of spiritual awakening adopted from Spirituality for Dummies , which included talking to the spirits of the departed, when I noticed a spotlight with a large group of people crowded around it on the edge of a canal. Correction: a large group of people, most of whom were in police uniforms.
For six weeks a sight like this would have been a dagger in my eye. I would have forced myself to look and then skulk away, never wondering why there were members of both the police and the coast guard there, or what they were doing with the crane mounted on the back of the ambulance boat.
But not BadJas.
Little Life Lesson 15: Bad loves a crime scene.
Without my even having to suggest it, my feet drifted in that direction until I was standing at the edge of the group. The light was focused on an object, and as I peered over the heads of shorter people, I saw that the object was a body. A body wearing black leggings, a black sweater, and black motorcycle boots with shiny silver buckles.
Arabella’s body.
Chapter Nine
As I watched, they pulled a sheet over Arabella’s head.
My heart started to pound and my knees got weak and I felt tears pricking at my eyes. I couldn’t believe it. Arabella dead? Oh. My. God.
For a moment my brain went completely silent trying to take it all in. Then I blurted in Italian, “This is my fault, officers. I want to make a statement.”
Or that’s what I meant to say.
What I actually said was “I’m the guilty one, Fuzz. I want to confess.” Which, while close, is not exactly the same thing in several crucial ways.
Little Life Lesson 16: Announcing you want to confess to a murder is an excellent way to go from Invisible to It Girl when surrounded by a group of police officers.
Little Life Lesson 17: Referring to the police as “Fuzz” also does wonders for your popularity.
What I meant was that I felt responsible . That if I’d takenArabella seriously from the start and gone to the police or been more encouraging or something, none of this would have happened. But as a meaty hand closed around my upper arm, I had time to think that watching CHiPs , while very educational, might not be the best way to master the subtleties of a foreign language.
Still, it was enough for me to understand it when the voice attached to the arm said, “You again,” and I looked up and saw I was staring into the eyes of Officer Allegrini. Whose gaze wasn’t quite an application for the leadership council of the I-Heart-Jas fan club. In fact his expression was a bit on the ferocious side.
A woman in a suit said, “Take her in for questioning,” and before I knew it I was
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