Peril in Paperback: A Bibliophile Mystery

figured I was putting up a good front.
    And food was helping, as always. Dinner at Grace’s house was a miracle cure for anyone who needed an emotional pick-me-up. Tonight, as they had done every other night, the kitchen staff served four courses, and one of those was homemade pasta. Color me happy.
    I was nibbling at the corners of the delicate ravioli drenched in a delectable sage and butter sauce, listening to Nathan discuss the dire state of college baseball, of all things, when my ears perked up. Someone at the other end of the table was talking about me.
    “At least five or six murders,” Suzie was saying. “She’s solved them all.”
    “It’s true,” Vinnie said. “We’re all lucky that Brooklyn is here to share her expertise with us.” Her hands were animated as she spoke between bites of pasta and sips of wine. “It’s uncanny how she attracts death! But despite that grisly proclivity, Brooklyn is relentless in her quest for truth.”
    “It’s a fact,” Suzie said, waving her wineglass around to make the point.
    “Absolutely,” Vinnie said enthusiastically. Then shelowered her voice, as though she were sharing some gruesome secret with everyone. “Brooklyn deconstructs the mystery, studies the components, the clues, the telltale signs, then bravely confronts the murderer, and justice is served in the end.”
    There were actual cheers! Good grief. But among those who approved were several other guests who turned and glared at me.
    Oh, dear. I thought we’d talked about dropping that subject after the first night when they’d mentioned it while walking down the stairs. Apparently not.
    I grabbed my glass and took a deep slug of wine. This wasn’t happening. Was it? The killer had already targeted me with a dead blackbird. Did he or she need any more motivation to try to get rid of me?
    My good friends were
not
doing me a favor, bless their hearts.
    “I had no idea you were practically a celebrity,” Nathan said, his eyes warm with interest.
    “I’m not,” I said. “My friends are just being, um, kind.”
    And I desperately wished they would stop!
    I looked across at Vinnie, and Suzie winked at me. I shook my head, hoping Suzie would get the message and change the subject. But instead, she jumped in with her own tale about the time I saved one of our neighbors from the clutches of a crazy killer.
    This was not going to end well.
    Gabriel was sitting on my side of the table directly across from Vinnie. I thought he might be able to change the subject, so I tilted my head forward to try to catch his eye. But he was smiling indulgently at Suzie’s story and was no help at all.
    And that’s when it hit me that this might be a good thing. If we drew the murderer’s attention to me, maybe we could catch him—or her—in the act. I took a bracing breath. This could work.
    Nathan leaned closer, “So, you’re saying you’ve never been involved in a murder investigation?”
    I turned fast and almost speared him with my fork. Accidentally, that is. I was a little flustered, to say the least. “Um, yes. I’ve been involved in a number of murder cases and I’ve been face-to-face with more than a few desperate criminals. In fact, I have several San Francisco homicide detectives on speed dial.” I almost groaned. Boasting about this stuff didn’t sit well with me. I just hoped I wouldn’t lose my appetite because the ravioli were still calling my name.
    “So you were just being modest before?”
    “Yes,” I said, then lowered my voice. “I don’t like to talk about it. It’s not as if I go looking for murder. It just seems to happen wherever I go and I…hmm.” I happened to glance up and saw that everyone was looking at me now.
    Madge looked befuddled. “So let me get this straight. Wherever you go, murder happens? Is that what you’re saying?”
    Sybil leaned forward, glaring at me. “Did you ever think it might be a good idea to warn the rest of us?”
    “If she had warned you,” Gabriel said loudly, shifting attention away from me, “would that have kept one of you from killing Bella?”
    “One of
us
?” Kiki said, and her eyes widened as she gazed around the room. Had it just now occurred to her that we were spending every evening with a murderer? That we were all sleeping in the same house each night? Or that the person who had killed Bella was sitting here at the table with us right now?
    “Yeah, one of us,” Marko said, his tone belligerent as he scanned the