A Game of Murder (12 page)

“Sit down, Dennis,” Derek said.

The self-proclaimed Blubber Belly waddled over to where Faith sat, alone for now. Lorna was still busy helping Hope in the kitchen. They hadn’t needed Faith’s assistance this time, even though she’d volunteered. Hope had prepared a huge pot of vegetarian chili, avoiding the need to prepare a different meal for Derek, and she and Lorna would dish the chili into bowls when it came time to eat. Baskets of cornbread already sat on the tables. Beside the baskets were two dishes, one filled with wrapped pats of butter, the other containing Earth Balance spread in similar packaging.

The door of the Prickly Pear Café opened again and Stan came in. He joined the three men standing near the other table, who widened up their circle just enough to admit him. They hadn’t done the same for Dennis. Or her. She was starting to wonder why she bothered with this group at all. To support Lorna, certainly, and to affirm the fact that Hope’s food hadn’t been responsible for Mira’s death, but, if she was going to get involved in a group, surely Desert Water Christian Church hosted some a lot more welcoming than this one.

Maybe she’d sound out Lorna on how she would feel if she herself stopped attending and eased her way out of her commitment. Although she did enjoy Rok’s workshop and playing around with Inform this past week. She loved games and puzzles and creating one of her own had always been something she’d wanted to do.

Adam and Cathy arrived next and joined Faith and Dennis at their table. There was no sign of the bushy-haired guy—Isaac—who had aligned himself with Derek’s group at the last meeting.

“How are you doing?” Faith asked Cathy.

“Holding up.” Cathy forced a weak smile to her face.

“I’m surprised you came, since you don’t write games.”

Dennis pushed up his glasses with a finger and opened his mouth to speak, but Adam jumped in ahead of him. “We heard Derek is going to try to get Mira’s game disqualified again. Cathy and I felt we owed it to her to try to keep her game in the competition.”

Faith wondered how the competition would be impacted by a non-living contender. Of course, they awarded Oscars posthumously, like the one to Peter Finch, so there was precedent.

“If they do disqualify Mira’s game, maybe we should take another vote on a separate Twine division. Ha ha ha!” Dennis picked up a piece of cornbread from the basket and started slathering it with butter.

Faith didn’t get his point for a minute, then remembered he’d been the only other competitor writing a Twine game. The remark didn’t strike her as particularly funny, just dumb, which seemed to be Dennis’s default mode.

Lorna emerged from the kitchen carrying a full pitcher of iced tea. She set it on the other table and picked up the almost-empty one it replaced.

“Are you ready for dinner?” Lorna asked Derek.

Derek looked around, saw that most of the members had arrived, and nodded. Isaac came in the door, mumbled a “Sorry I’m late” and joined Derek’s group.

As Lorna hurried back to the kitchen, the men took their seats. Only then did Faith notice the young, waif-like girl who had come to the last meeting and been greeted so exuberantly by Paul. Ashley sat quietly, not drawing any attention to herself. Even after she was no longer hidden by the standing men, she didn’t speak, only gave Paul a smile as he lowered himself into the chair next to her.

Hope and Lorna took only a minute to place a bowl of chili in front of each of the diners. The aroma of tomatoes and spices filled the restaurant, making Faith’s mouth water. The chili tasted as good as it smelled, not that Faith expected anything else from Hope’s cooking. Apparently everyone else who ate the dish thought so, too. She noticed Bob declined the meal Lorna attempted to serve him. No one talked much as they focused on the food. Fortunately, the prior meeting’s events didn’t repeat themselves, so no paramedics or police were necessary.

Derek took the stage once Hope began clearing the plates left over from dinner. “I don’t think we have much to discuss tonight.” He ran a hand over the top of his head, smoothing down hair so short it was practically nonexistent. “There’s only one item on the agenda: is Mira’s game still eligible to be judged in the comp?”

Lorna, having finished clearing the tables, slid into the seat beside Faith.

Adam wasted no time in speaking up. “Of course it is. She completed the game and formally entered it before she died. Therefore, her game should be on the ballot along with all the other valid entries.”

“But she’s dead,” Bob said. “How can she win if she’s dead?”

“It’s her game that would win,” Adam said. “The game is still alive.”

Paul snorted. Adam’s smoky stare flared into a blaze directed at Paul. “What?” Paul said. “It’s Twine. Mira’s game was barely alive when she was. I think we can declare the game dead if we want to.”

Faith cringed at the brutal phrasing. Adam rose to his feet. “That’s uncalled for.”

Cathy reached up and tugged on Adam’s arm, her face anxious and pleading. Adam turned his gaze to hers, and the fire in his eyes dwindled to a smolder. He sank back into his seat.

Stan cleared his throat. “I don’t see why we can’t leave the game in the comp.” His uncertain tone belied his words.

Derek glowered. “The problem with that is all the groupies who read Adam’s blog are likely to give Mira’s game a huge sympathy vote without even playing it.”

“They probably won’t play any other games either,” Bob added.

“That would be taken care of by the ballot,” Adam said. “The ballot ensures they vote for at least five games.”

“It doesn’t ensure they’ll actually play the games,” Bob said. “I think it’s a bad idea to include it.”

All the heads at the other table were nodding. All the heads at Faith’s own stayed still, although their expressions showed their opposition. Dennis, for once, kept quiet.

“Let’s put the issue to a vote,” Derek said. “All in favor of eliminating Mira’s game from the competition?”

All hands at the other table, except Stan’s, raised in the air. Even Ashley voted with them. Stan, after looking at the others, who clearly showed their disapproval, slowly raised his.

“All opposed?”

The five at Faith’s table raised their hands.

“It’s a tie,” Derek said. “As president, I get to break the tie.” A smirk crossed his face. “I vote in favor of the motion. Mira’s game is not eligible to be on the competition ballot.”

The decision was probably a foregone conclusion, Faith thought. The vote had only been a formality, giving legitimacy to what Derek wanted all along. Indignation at the unfairness of the situation seethed in her gut. Not only would Dennis’s game be the only one written in Twine, Lorna would be the only female entrant. Faith had a feeling she knew how that would turn out. Although an adequate programmer, Lorna wasn’t a superstar. And the deck was stacked against her winning. Before Faith thought through the words, she found herself asking, “Is there still time to enter the competition?”

Derek looked at her as if he’d never seen her before. Which, since he hadn’t even bothered to greet her, he probably hadn’t. “Are you thinking of entering?”

Was she?
She’d barely learned the basics of game programming. How could she possibly think she could create a game in time for the judging? One that wasn’t laughable, she amended.

“The deadline is still two weeks away,” Adam said, drawing Faith’s attention away from Derek. He gave a small nod of his head.

Her heart pounding so hard she thought it must be audible all the way up on the stage, Faith looked at Derek, pinning him with new-found resolution. Which faltered at the sight of his smirk. “Yes. I think I might enter a game.”

Faith hung back, leaning against her Honda, while John went up to the dull redbrick house with bars on the windows and knocked on the door. He’d told her to wait in the car, but she didn’t want to appear to be hiding. Better to face the situation directly. She’d never met John’s ex-wife, and curiosity prodded her to see for herself what Roni was like. And what their first encounter would bring.

A slim, statuesque woman answered the door. On second look, she only gave the appearance of being statuesque. She stood several inches shorter than John, only a couple of inches taller than Faith, but she held herself like a fashion model. She wore her hair pulled back from her face, piled in a mass of curls behind her head. Unlike most Tucsonans, she used a lot of makeup. Her eyelashes were either artificial or heavily coated with mascara. A white, lacy top, form-fitting black capris, and strappy black sandals completed the look.

Faith glanced down at her tee shirt and knee-length blue shorts covering a body that could still stand to lose twenty pounds, then down to the scuffed white sneakers on her feet. The word dumpy came to mind. She tried to banish the negative self-image, but it was a struggle in light of the elegant appearance of the woman standing in the doorway.

“Hi, Roni,” John said cheerfully. “Is Luke ready?”

Roni stared at her over John’s shoulder. “Is that your latest paramour?” She returned her gaze to John. “I see you’ve lowered your standards.”

Faith cringed. Roni might have used a fancy word, but the term still meant whore as far as Faith was concerned.

John turned and saw Faith standing behind him. She was afraid he’d be angry, but he held out his hand to her with a smile, indicating she should join him. Her stomach churned as she tried to imitate Roni’s demeanor by standing taller as she strode forward, feigning confidence instead of the anxiety burbling inside her.

“This is Faith,” John said firmly. “Faith, this is Roni.”

“Glad to meet you,” Faith said, feeling anything but.

Roni looked down at Faith for a beat, making sure she got the message. Yeah, she did. In Roni’s eyes, Faith was the equivalent of a river toad.

“I’ll get Luke.” Roni shut the security screen door she’d been holding open.

Faith couldn’t help herself. “Why did you let her call me a whore?”

John sighed as long-suffering forbearance dropped down over his features. “Don’t take it personally. Please. Roni would say something like that to any woman I dared to date. Disagreeing with her will only make things worse. She loves confrontation.” He paused. “I don’t.”

Tears threatened. Faith didn’t dare blink for fear they’d fall in great splats on the sidewalk. She didn’t want Roni—or John—to know how hurt she was.

But John could tell anyway. “Hey.” He brushed the moisture off her cheek, cupped her chin in his hand, and gazed into her eyes. “You’re the one I care for.”

“I know,” Faith said, attempting to deflect his concern. “I think I’m overtired. I’ve been staying up late at night… working.”

She cut off the last part of the sentence. She’d been intending to say, I’ve been staying up late at night working
on my game
, but, so far, she’d kept her intention to enter the competition a secret from John. She knew he’d think participating in the comp was her way of staying involved with the murder investigation, and she didn’t want him to get angry at her. Because, if she was honest with herself, learning more about what might have been behind the murder was a big part of her motivation.

“Am I interrupting something here?” Roni’s voice grated from the doorway.

John dropped his hand and turned to face his ex-wife and son. He ignored her remark, instead spoke to Luke. “Hey, buddy.”

Even though Faith understood the reason, his sudden withdrawal bothered her. There was a difference between understanding and acceptance. She forced a smile to her face. “Hi, Luke.”

“Hi, Faith.” Sunlight glinted off his hair, blonder than his father’s, and sparkled in the smile he gave her. The effects of Roni’s meanness vaporized in the sunshine of a little boy’s smile.

“Ready to go to the zoo?” John asked Luke.

The towhead nodded enthusiastically. “I want to see the elephants!”

John smiled. “I think we can arrange that.” He reached out his hand to his son. Luke took it, and the three of them headed toward Faith’s car.

John had put Luke’s booster seat into the backseat of Faith’s Honda. Once he buckled Luke in, he joined Faith in the front seat, uncharacteristically somber. As she started the engine, he asked, “Are you too tired for this trip? You could drop Luke and me off at my place. We could take my truck, and you could go home and take a nap.”

She backed out of the driveway, put the car in drive, and drove to the stop sign on the corner. Away from Roni’s cloud of negativity and in the company of the two men who made her happiest, her fatigue left her. “And miss the elephants?” she asked in mock horror.

The tension left John’s face, and he laughed out loud.

“Elephants!” Luke said emphatically.

* * *

Luke, one hand holding Faith’s and the other grasped in John’s, tugged on the two adults in his eagerness to get to the animals. Fortunately, the tiger exhibit was just inside the entrance to the zoo, so Faith got to keep her arm in its socket.

“There’s a tiger.” Luke pointed, letting go of Faith’s hand.

Like most of the animals at Reid Park Zoo, the tigers roamed a natural habitat area. Quite different from the zoos with cages Faith went to as a child. A sign posted along the wall stated there were supposed to be two tigers, a male and a female, but only one was visible.

“Do you see the female?” John asked Faith.

“According to the sign, she might be hiding in the plants along the edges. The stripes make good camouflage.” Faith peered at the far reaches of the enclosure, moving her eyes slowly along the back wall, watching for any sign of movement.

John did the same. “There she is.” He indicated a heavily shaded spot to the right. “Do you see the other tiger, Luke?”

Luke stopped his examination of the male long enough to follow his father’s finger. His eyes must have been sharper than Faith’s, because it didn’t take him long to nod his head. “There are two tigers.”

“Yes, there are,” John said with a smile. “Good job!”

Faith wondered if she needed glasses for distance as well as reading now. At last, the flick of a tail revealed the tigress’s location. “Oh, now I see her.”