Peril in Paperback: A Bibliophile Mystery

deny it,” Derek said. “I was right behind you in the hall. I saw you throw the ball.”
    Maybe I was still in shock from hearing Derek’s voice. But I just couldn’t work it out in my head why Grace’s sweet, loyal housekeeper had tried to hurt her.
    “It’s just a bump on the head,” Grace said, her voice shaky. “Let me stand up. It’s my party and I…urrghh.”
    She collapsed onto the couch cushion and Ruth wrapped both arms around her waist. “You’re not going anywhere.”
    Grace laid her head on Ruth’s shoulder. “But Merrilee needs me.”
    “She needs you? Grace, she just threw a baseball at your head!” Ruth was furious and glared at Merrilee. “What were you thinking? Explain yourself.”
    Merrilee started to cry. “I didn’t mean to hit Grace. I’m so stupid. It’s all my fault if she dies.”
    Derek frowned at me and I almost smiled. Naturally, he had quickly picked up on the incongruity of the situation. Merrilee didn’t sound like a killer. She sounded like a scared young girl.
    I said, “What do you mean, Merrilee?”
    She wrung her hands in misery. “I know I’m as sharpas a marble, but I thought I could at least throw a ball! I can’t even do
that
right. What’s wrong with me?”
    “Nothing’s wrong with you, Merrilee,” Nathan argued, his tone dutiful. He shoved Peter out of the way and stormed across the room, where he glared at Derek until he surrendered Merrilee willingly and took a few steps back.
    Nathan moved in and grabbed her in a tight hug. “You can throw a ball straight, honey. You just need practice.”
    Derek’s frown grew deeper as more confusion set in. He wasn’t the only one. I’d lost the thread of this conversation as soon as Nathan had sprung into action.
    “Nathan,” I said. “What are you talking about?”
    “No harm was done,” Nathan insisted, then whipped around to address everyone in the room. “Look, Grace is fine. A little woozy, but fine. So stop picking on Merrilee, all of you.”
    “Picking on her!” Sybil shouted in astonishment. “She tried to kill Grace!”
    But Nathan ignored her as he stared into Merrilee’s eyes. “If you want to learn to throw straight, I’ll teach you how. I’ll do anything for you. I love you and I want to marry you.”
    Merrilee sputtered, “B-but—”
    He put one finger over her lips, shushing her. “Please just say yes and make me the happiest man in the world.”
    Wow. I hadn’t seen that coming. But looking at Nathan and seeing the flush of happiness on Merrilee’s cheeks, I could only wonder how I’d missed it. Some detective I was.
    “You can’t marry her!” Sybil yelled, and stomped her foot on the thick carpet. “She should be dragged off to jail for attempted murder. In fact, she probably killed Bella. She’s dangerous. Am I the only one who can see that?”
    If anyone else had said that, I might’ve gone alongwith them. Not for long, of course, since Merrilee clearly wasn’t a murderer. But this was Sybil talking. Why was she so up in arms? She didn’t give a rat’s ass about Grace. She probably would’ve popped open more champagne to celebrate if Grace had been hurt any worse than she was. Actually, that was something Madge would do. Sybil would simply sit and read a magazine.
    Or would she? I spent an extra moment or two watching the woman and her body language. And wondering.
    Then I gazed over at Merrilee. I knew she had some reasoning difficulties, so I asked the question all over again. “Merrilee, can you tell us why you threw the ball at Grace?”
    “I didn’t,” she said, repeating herself.
    “But…”
    Merrilee held up one shaky finger and pointed it at Madge. “I threw it at her.”
    Madge gasped.
    “Whoa,” Gabriel muttered.
    “Me? I didn’t do anything!”
    Harrison stepped forward. “Madge, what did you do?”
    “Shut up, Harry!” Her facial muscles were so taut, I was worried that they’d spring loose like the strings on a violin. “I didn’t do a damn thing. She’s insane.”
    Merrilee shook her head back and forth. “Not her.
Her
.”
    Madge stepped aside, then turned and stared at Sybil. “You.”
    “Right,” Merrilee said, still pointing. “Her.”
    Sybil’s face turned white. “What do you mean, me? You were going to kill me? How dare you!”
    “I wasn’t trying to kill you.” Merrilee gulped, nervous now, but not about to stop talking until she’d told us all what had happened. “I just wanted to hit you with the