Page 29 of Without a Clue

“But that was a different angry,” Neena trills in a tone that says don’t butt in, Jackie. “That was constructive rage—”

“And this is . . . unconstructive rage,” Jackie says slowly, scrutinizing me as if I’m a lab rat that she just can’t quite understand.

“I don’t know,” Crystal says, “she was pretty ragey yesterday in an insane woman stealing boom boxes kind of way.”

“Who stole a boom box?” Nash interrupts.

“Well, you can’t blame her with everything that went on with Michael,” Neena says, ignoring him.

“What happened with Michael?” he says louder.

“I don’t know,” Crystal says, her phone still pressed to her ear. “I’ve dated plenty of guys and haven’t once tried to toss speaker equipment.”

“I don’t have any RAGE!” I cry out. “I’m a totally rational person.” I fling my hands toward the door, where my boss just pretended to be dead. “This is a TOTALLY RATIONAL RESPONSE!”

Crystal, whose hand is now to her lips as though really trying to think it through, looks to Jackie. “Noooo,” she muses. “If I were in her place, I don’t know if I would really fling the door open like that. Feels a little unhinged to me. What about you, Jackie?”

“I walked in on my aunt dead once,” Jackie replies cooly. “I didn’t need to make a whole scene over it. It’s a bit—”

“Pretentious?” Crystal says.

“I was thinking self-absorbed. But I approve the synonym.” Jackie gives a curt nod.

“One hundred and seventy-one thousand people die . . .” Ricky says slowly, drawing a chill breeze to the back of everybody’s neck, “every day.”

Nash takes off his hat. “What happened with Michael?” Nash says louder, this time craning his neck in the air.

“No answer,” Crystal announces, pocketing her phone. “I’ll just go get him.”

“No, if anyone sees him first, it’s me,” I say, wiping the last remaining tear vigorously from my eye with the palm of my hand.

I hand the handkerchief back over to Jackie and stalk out into the hall.

The rest of the group trails after.

Waiting at the subway with a mysterious package for Hugh for research was one thing.

Diving through terrifying sea tunnels was one thing.

Baking an apple pie with arsenic and then taking a bite and spitting it out before it killed me to see if I could really “taste the poison” was one thing.

Playing with my heart for sport is another.

Gordon jumpstarts from playing the little Tetris game on his phone as he sits on the ground.

Guiltily he pockets his phone as he stumbles to standing. “Called them! They’ll be here any minute!” he trills.

Neena gives him a stern look. “For goodness’ sake, you had one job!”

“I’m going to kill him for this!” I announce, stomping down the hall. “And I’m going to kill all of you for going along with this!”

“Hugh’s very persuasive when he has a plan, Pip,” Neena says.

“Don’t care.”

“I don’t think it’s really fair to pin any of this on us,” Jackie says.

“You know what, Jackie?” I say, spinning around, “I found that vintage Rosenthal Sanssouci replacement dinner plate you were hunting for—”