Page 26 of Without a Clue

I take a couple of steps, slowly.

“Hugh?” I say again, but my voice cracks.

Stop it, Pip.

Stop it now.

Everything is just fine.

The door just happened to be unlocked.

And Hugh hasn’t come to the meeting, but it’s still early.

And you’re on edge because of what he said last night, but—

Then I see the lump.

And scream.

Chapter 5

The room is perfumed with the scent of black coffee, which I realize is because I have dropped both cups from my hands.

A dark stain is blooming on the red carpet as I stand frozen.

My shoes are splattered in coffee.

My leggings, from the knees down, are covered in coffee.

The floor where I stand is covered in coffee, just beyond the little hallway of Hugh’s room, where his bed had just come into view.

And there Hugh is.

Face down under the pristine white covers now covered in blood, one lifeless arm reaching out from beneath the sheet.

I stare at the motionless arm and the back of Hugh’s silvery head for a full five seconds, then sprint, one hand clasped over my mouth.

They will know what to do.

They will . . . they will fix this.

They have to fix this right NOW.

The fifteen seconds from bedroom to library last a blink. I’m out of breath as I burst through the door.

Gordon is seated beside the chessboard, playing a game with himself.

Jackie is standing at the large bookshelves, one of the books in hand.

Neena is in the midst of adjusting the purple scarf around her neck as she drapes herself across a bookshelf, Crystal taking her picture.

Ricky is staring intently, morosely, at nothing as he sits by himself in the wingback chair.

And Nash is standing stiffly with his back to the door, looking out at the deep blue sea beyond.

All of their heads, except Nash’s, turn sharply toward me.

“Penelope?” Neena says. “What is it?”