Peril in Paperback: A Bibliophile Mystery

earlier this afternoon and he accused me of stealing his newspaper. Can you imagine? He cursed at me like a Bangalore cabbie.”
    “Damn,” Suzie said. “I was watching him at the party and he glowered at anyone who tried to greet him. I actually saw him push one of the other men out of the way when he went to the bar. I wouldn’t be surprised to hear that he’s the one trying to convince Grace to make changes to her estate, just to be spiteful.”
    He looked creepy, all right, but I would reserve my final opinion until I actually met the man. “His name is Fowler?”
    “Stephen Fowler,” Suzie grumbled. “Kiki thinks Grace will kick us all out of the will and leave all her money to some cat sanctuary.”
    “Grace has a cat?” I asked, perking up. “I haven’t seen a cat around here.”
    “She’s got a great cat,” Suzie said, grinning. “Leroy. He’s pitch-black and very cool.”
    I smiled at the image of a cool black cat and also at my unintentional changing of the subject. I was ready to talk about happier things. I was sick of being cranky and silently declared myself to be a negative-free zone for the rest of the evening. I would be upbeat, positive, and hopeful. And the subject of cats was a cheery alternative to lawyers anytime.
    “Leroy is a joy,” Vinnie said with more enthusiasm. “An excellent cat. Very friendly. The best thing about being here.”
    “Okay, Vinnie,” Suzie said softly, and Vinnie frowned, then nodded in what seemed to be a silent apology. Maybe they were tired of the negativity, too. It was a state I’d rarely seen the two of them enter.
    “I can’t wait to meet Leroy,” I said, excited at the prospect of meeting a cat I could snuggle up with for a few days. Cats were a calming influence and lately I’d been thinking of getting one of my very own.
    And while I didn’t want to bring it up at that moment (because I was now an instrument of positivity in the universe), I couldn’t wait to find out more about Vinnie’s antagonistic feelings toward Aunt Grace, who, by the way, seemed to take Vinnie’s snarky attitude in stride.
    I recalled our conversation earlier that day, during our two-hour drive to Tahoe. Vinnie and Suzie had gone back and forth, filling in the gaps of my understanding of Aunt Grace. Vinnie didn’t approve of Grace’s lackadaisical attitude toward everything, including people. But Suzie described her aunt as whimsical and good-natured.
    “She is most definitely whimsical,” Vinnie had agreed, but added, “along with being fickle and unreliable.”
    “She’s the youngest person I know,” Suzie had said by way of explanation, and it was obvious from her tone how fond she was of her aunt. Even though Grace was turning fifty and was retired from Gamester, the corporationshe’d founded and helped grow, she was just a big kid at heart, Suzie insisted.
    Grace had started out in the business by designing board games, but she made her millions creating pinball and video games. In the past ten years, she had moved her company into designing 3-D computer games. She was still crazy about every kind of game, puzzle, and magic trick. Even retired, she fancied herself a master gamester, and her huge home reflected her brilliant, idiosyncratic nature.
    Vinnie’s opinion of Grace was much less love-blinded. She felt that Grace played at being a kid because she didn’t want to accept adult responsibility for her actions or decisions.
    “Come on, Vinnie. She’s not a mean person,” Suzie insisted.
    “No, no. She is simply a bit oblivious of others.” Vinnie shifted in the car seat to look at me. “I suppose that’s why she can come across as inconsiderate. But I don’t wish to imply that she’s mean.”
    “That’s good to know,” I said.
    “However,” Vinnie hastened to add, “I still don’t approve of her eccentric décor. I warn you, Brooklyn. Don’t walk too close to the walls, because they’ve been known to move.”
    “You’re kidding.”
    “No, I am not. Her house is a giant game board and subject to her ever-changing moods and whims. Please, please, don’t walk under the giant mousetrap cage in the game room.”
    “Mousetrap cage?” I frowned. “Like the game?”
    “Yeah,” Suzie said, pleased that I got the reference. “Grace invented a game that had some of the same elements as Mousetrap, only there was more of a strategic game involved. Hers was called Cat and Mouse. I think it might’ve been the first game she