Peril in Paperback: A Bibliophile Mystery

closet door.
    I turned in time to see Madge sneaking through the same door that Grace and Sybil had taken moments ago. What was she up to?
    “Now, that spells trouble,” I muttered.
    Gabriel took hold of my arm. “Are you staying here or coming with me?”
    “I’m coming with you.”
    We tried to be casual as we slipped through what I had thought was a closet door. Instead we found a narrowhall that led from the Gold Salon, where the talent show had been held, to the game room. There we found Madge trapped under the mouse cage, shrieking.
    So where was Sybil?
    “Damn it,” Madge yelled. “Get me the hell out of this freaking thing.”
    She continued shouting expletives and I wasn’t sure what was scarier: seeing Madge trapped by that human-sized mouse cage or hearing her bellow and curse so much.
    “Hold on,” Gabriel said, and we both stared at the trap and its interior electronic mechanism, trying to figure out how to raise the cage.
    “I won’t hold on,” she groused.
    “You don’t have much choice,” I said. “We have to figure out how to raise the cage first.”
    “I’m sick to death of this freak house.”
    “You should be counting your lucky stars that we found you.”
    “Why’d you come looking for me?” she said, instantly guarded. “I didn’t do anything.”
    I rolled my eyes. “We weren’t looking for you.”
We were looking for Sybil,
I reminded myself. Where had she disappeared to? As Madge continued to bitch and moan, I thought of my mother’s favorite saying: no good deed goes unpunished.
    “I have never been so disgusted or humiliated in my life.” Her voice rose as she got going on a rant. “What kind of deviant moron devises cages for people to get trapped under? What is wrong with that stupid woman?”
    I really didn’t like Madge Crawford and that statement pushed me over the edge.
    “That ‘stupid’ woman is a genius,” I said. “She’s made it possible for your husband to keep you in designer clothes and diamonds for the last twenty years, so I’d stuff a sock in it if I were you.”
    “How dare you speak to me that way?”
    I laughed harshly. “I dare because you’re a pain in thebutt who whines and bitches about every little thing in the world and never shuts up. I’m surprised you were even invited to stay here at all.”
    “Babe,” Gabriel said under his breath.
    I glowered at him, but stopped talking. Guess I’d gotten carried away with my own rant.
    Madge’s nostrils flared as she hissed in a breath. She was furious, obviously, and astounded that anyone, especially a nobody like me, would dare speak to her like that.
    I was surprised no one had done it before now.
    Grace ran into the room. “Madge! Oh, dear. I’m so sorry you got caught. What were you doing in here?”
    “None of your damn business. Just shut up and get me out of here before I press charges and have you all arrested for false imprisonment and mental anguish and assault and battery and—”
    “Oh, shut up yourself,” I said.
    “Oh, dear,” Grace murmured.
    Gabriel searched the trompe l’oeil wall painting of a hillside in Burgundy and found a small electronic button disguised as part of a bunch of grapes growing in the sun. He pushed it and the cage rose smoothly, freeing the snarling, foulmouthed woman. She walked straight over to me and raised her hand to slap me across the face.
    But I was ready for her. I had gone more than a few rounds with the notorious Minka LaBoeuf, world’s worst bookbinder, and I knew a move or two myself. I grabbed Madge’s arm and shoved her back, out of slapping distance.
    She took another step toward me.
    “Don’t even think about it,” I said, jabbing my finger at her.
    Her face turned red and she gritted her teeth as she got madder and madder. But what could she do?
    “I hate it here,” she said loudly. “I hate all of you people.”
    “Right back atcha.”
    She stomped her foot, then stormed out of the room.
    For several long seconds, the silence was deafening. Finally, I let go of the breath I’d been holding. “I’m sorry, Grace, but that woman is a mean, spiteful bully.”
    “No, I’m the one who’s sorry, Brooklyn,” Grace said. “She really is horrible. But Harrison is my brother and he’s always been wonderful to me. I put up with her for his sake.”
    The question on my mind was, Why did Harrison put up with her?
    Gabriel wrapped an arm around Grace’s shoulder. “Harrison is lucky to have you for a