Two and a half hours later, Jameson and Grayson still weren’t home, and I was spinning my wheels. I’d been over and over the message, and then the photo itself again and the envelope, in case there was something else there.
But nothing I did seemed to matter.
Avenge. Revenge. Vengeance. Avenger. I always win in the end.
“I hate this,” Eve said, her voice quiet and reedy. “I hate feeling helpless.”
I did, too.
Xander looked from Eve to me. “Are you two brooding?” he asked.
“Because, Avery, I am, as ever, your BHFF, and you know the penalty for brooding!”
“I am not playing Xander Tag,” I told him.
“What’s Xander Tag?” Max asked.
“What isn’t Xander Tag?” Xander replied philosophically.
“Is this all a joke to you?” Eve asked sharply.
“No,” Xander said, his voice suddenly serious. “But sometimes a person’s brain starts cycling. No matter what you do, the same thoughts just keep repeating, over and over. You get stuck in a loop, and when you’re inside that loop, you can’t see past it. You’ll keep coming up with the same possibilities, to no end, because the answers you need—they’re outside the loop. Distractions aren’t just distractions. Sometimes they can break you out of the loop, and once you’re out, once your brain stops cycling—”
“You see the things you missed before.” Eve stared at Xander for a moment. “Okay,” she said finally. “Bring on the distractions, Xander Hawthorne.”
“That,” I warned her, “is a very dangerous thing to say.”
“Pay no attention to Avery!” Xander instructed. “She’s just a little gun-shy from The Incident.”
Max snorted. “What incident?”
“That doesn’t matter,” Xander said, “and in my defense, I didn’t expect the zoo to send an actual tiger. Now…” He tapped his chin. “What are we in the mood for? The Floor Is Magma? Sculpture Wars? Jell-O Assassins?”
“I’m sorry.” Eve’s voice was stilted. She turned toward the door. “I can’t do this.”
“Wait!” Xander called after her. “What are your thoughts on fondue?”
CHAPTER 21
In Hawthorne House, fondue involved twelve fondue pots accompanied by three full-sized chocolate fountains. Mrs. Laughlin had it all set up in the chef’s kitchen within the hour.
Distractions aren’t just distractions, I reminded myself. Sometimes, you need them to break the loop.
“In terms of cheese fondue,” Xander orated, “we’ve got your gruyère-based, your gouda-based, your beer cheddar, your fontina, your ch?llerhocker—”
“Okay,” Max cut in. “Now you’re just making up words.”
“Am I?” Xander said in his most dashing voice. “For dipping, we’ve got your baguettes, your sourdough, breadsticks, croutons, bacon, prosciutto, salami, sopressata, apples, pears, and various vegetables, grilled or raw.
Then there’s the dessert fondues! For the purists among us, dark chocolate, milk chocolate, and white chocolate fountains. More inventive dessert combinations are in the pots. I highly recommend the salted caramel double chocolate.”
Surveying the vast array of options for dessert dippers, Max picked up a strawberry in one hand and a graham cracker in the other.
“Hit me,” Xander yelled, jogging backward. “I’m going wide!”