Peril in Paperback: A Bibliophile Mystery

muttered from the row behind me. I turned and saw Gabriel wearing a sardonic grin.
    Grace stood up immediately. “Now, Ruth.”
    “Let her finish,” Marko said. He was chuckling for the first time since Bella’s death.
    The rest of the audience took up the chant. “Let her finish. Let her finish.”
    “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Grace said, but she was smiling as she sat down and waved at Ruth to keep going.
    Ruth didn’t disappoint. The poem was as bawdy aseveryone had expected, and as she took her final bow there were hoots and hollers and calls of “Encore.”
    “Maybe later,” she said, patting her gray hair demurely, and sat down.
    Heck, if I’d known I could’ve simply recited a bawdy limerick, I wouldn’t have worried myself sick all day.
    Grace stood and walked to the front of the room, carrying her heavy manuscript. She opened to the first page, coughed to clear her throat, and began to read. “I was a thin, lonely child. My father’s business forced us to move every other year, and by the age of six the card game solitaire was my best friend.”
    I ignored the dangling modifier and smiled at Grace’s portrayal of her central character. I had already read this part of the manuscript and was looking forward to reading more.
    “Poor Grace,” Suzie whispered. “So lonely.”
    That produced a scowl from Vinnie. “By the age of six I had eight noisy brothers and sisters. I yearned to be lonely.”
    “Shhh,” I said, trying not to laugh. “She’s reading about a fictional character.”
    “That’s right,” Suzie whispered. “Grace grew up with siblings.”
    “A good thing, or you wouldn’t be here,” Vinnie muttered.
    Grace read for another minute, then stopped and looked up. There was a beat of silence; then we all clapped and cheered loudly.
    “Wonderful,” I cried.
    “More, more!” Suzie shouted.
    I wasn’t surprised to catch Madge rolling her eyes. She really seemed to hate her husband’s sister. I didn’t know why but I was starting to wonder how much and how deeply that hate was rooted. Deep enough to kill her? But why? Did her husband stand to gain such a great deal of money if Grace died?
    Maybe Madge had been caught in the mouse cage like Vinnie. Maybe it had irritated her so much that she had come unhinged and was now ready to strike back at Grace.
    That picture entertained me enough to get me through the next act, a painful rendition of the Up with People theme song sung by Sybil Brinker. What made it so awful wasn’t just the fact that Sybil could barely carry a tune in a bucket. It was the song itself, a perky ditty that celebrated the idea that people were essentially good and that we were meant to get along with each other and be happy.
    If Sybil Brinker believed one word of those cheery, upbeat lyrics, I would eat my wool scarf.
    Halfway through Sybil’s performance, I noticed that Vinnie was gone. I looked around but didn’t see her in the room. Maybe she had slipped away to practice her dance steps.
    The next to perform was Kiki. She jogged up to the front of the room, then did a cartwheel before beginning her performance, which was basically a yoga routine. She stood on one leg to start the Sun Salutation, then moved fluidly through each pose.
    Two minutes later, she had mangled and twisted her body through five more impossible positions. By the time she reached Downward-Facing Dog, my neck hurt just watching her. Her nimble performance amazed me. I wondered fleetingly what Gabriel thought of it.
    She ended the show by moving into Corpse Pose. I shivered as I watched her lying on the floor, not moving.
    After a full minute, the audience grew restless. Kiki seemed to sense it because she finally jumped up and bowed deeply, murmuring, “Namaste. Namaste.”
    “Stirring performance,” Grace murmured.
    Suzie’s snort was covered by our thunderous clapping. I applauded Kiki for having the guts to do that in front of all these virtual strangers.
    And then it was time for Vinnie’s performance. Suziegot up and started the CD player and an exotic drumbeat began to throb rhythmically. Then a penetrating, high-pitched female voice joined in, singing and repeating something that sounded like “Nananananananana.” A male voice shouted “Hoy! Hoy! Hoy!” The plinking sound of a stringed instrument was added to the riveting drumbeat and a full chorus of voices joined and began a spellbinding musical number.
    Suddenly, Vinnie jumped to the front of