Peril in Paperback: A Bibliophile Mystery

ball.”
    Nathan’s arm came around Merrilee’s shoulder andshe seemed to stand taller, straighter. She was staring at Sybil and still pointing. “I saw you. I know what you were doing.”
    Sybil glanced around and laughed weakly. “What in the world is she blathering about? Can somebody please call the police? She should be in jail, or, better yet, in an insane asylum.”
    I took another step forward. “Should she, Sybil? Really? What did she see you doing that caused her to throw a baseball at you?”
    “So you’re interrogating me now?” She laughed harshly as she straightened her jacket. “What a joke. I’m leaving.”
    “But, Sybil,” Peter said, “the police won’t—”
    “Oh, screw the police. I’m not going to sit around wait for permission from them.”
    “You’re not going anywhere,” I said. “Tell me, what were you doing in my room last night?”
    She flinched, but quickly covered it with a shake of her head. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
    But I knew it was her. That gasp I’d heard when Leroy jumped down from the ceiling panel was Sybil’s, reacting in shock and horror to Leroy pouncing on her. She hated cats.
    “What were you doing there, Sybil? Were you going to poison me, too?”
    “Shut up,” she muttered.
    “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”
    But Merrilee wasn’t paying attention to the confrontation between me and Sybil. She just kept pointing at the woman. “She has a gun. She has a gun and she was going to shoot my mother.”
    Her
mother
?
    Grace?
    Now my mind was reeling from one thought to the next like a drunk trying to wind his way home down Lombard Street.
    My gaze darted back to Sybil, who shook her head rapidly and raised her hands in the air. “I don’t have a gun. She’s insane, I tell you!”
    I turned again to Merrilee. “Where did you see a gun, Merrilee?”
    Merrilee hesitated, so Grace reached out and clutched her hand in support. “Go on, Merri. Tell us what you saw.”
    “She…she has it in her purse. I saw her take it out and hide it in her lap. But then she started to point it at my mom, so I ran next door to the game room and found something to throw at her. To stop her. I found the baseball from the pitch-ball game and I threw it.”
    “That was very resourceful of you,” I said, casting a long look at Derek to see if he was keeping up. Had he seen Merrilee running back and forth from room to room? I knew he’d witnessed her throwing the ball, but could he corroborate her entire story?
    But for the first time since I’ve known him, Derek was no help. Instead he shrugged as if to say,
I just got here and have no idea what’s going on
.
    Then Merrilee spoke again. “But I missed.”
    “It’s okay,” Nathan soothed. “You tried. It’s okay.”
    As Merrilee was telling her story, I watched Gabriel moving subtly through the crowd until he came to a stop behind Sybil.
    “This is absurd,” Sybil said in a huff, and sat back down in the same chair she’d been using before. She noticed Gabriel then, and after sparing him a look of annoyance, she calmly raised her hands in the air again. “Look, Ma, no gun.”
    Merrilee frowned. “But she had one.”
    “Check my purse,” the woman said, folding her arms across her chest. “Go ahead. See for yourself who’s lying.”
    Gabriel picked up the extremely expensive designer purse that Sybil had placed on the floor by her chair. Heopened it and searched around, then looked over at Derek and shook his head. No gun.
    I sighed in disappointment. Sybil didn’t have a gun. So what, exactly, had Merrilee seen?
    “I told you,” Sybil said, then added with a sneer, “I can’t believe you took her word against mine.” She waved her hand dismissively in Merrilee’s direction. “Anyone can see that she’s an imbecile.”
    Ruth gasped. With a loud harrumph, she stood up, walked over to Sybil, and slapped her face so hard, her hand recoiled painfully. “I am not a violent person, but I’m sick to death of people like you calling Merrilee names like that.”
    Sybil rubbed her cheek but didn’t rise to the bait. “You bitch. Just a second ago you were shouting at her yourself.”
    “That’s different,” Ruth said with an apologetic glance at Merrilee. “We’re family. And I was…upset.” She glared at Sybil. “But
you
will apologize to her right now, or I’ll make you sorry you ever said that word.”
    “Apologize?” Sybil said, incredulous. “Are you