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I glanced at Victor. Yup, there was his raised eyebrow of puzzled judgement.

“May I?” Zee asked.

“Sure,” Zander said. “It’s pretty much indestructible. Believe me,” he chuckled. “I’ve tried.”

Uhm. Okay.

Victor brought the three brightly colored beanbags into a circle around the fireplace. “It is as though we have entered one of Zodiac’s fever dreams.”

“This is a late-seventies Wiggly Wizard,” Zee said, gaping at the dick in awe. “There aren’t many of these left.”

I had no idea how to respond. “That’s . . . nice.”

He gingerly set the precious dick back down and moved on to the next. “Gasp! Look! A personal favorite of mine, the Plunder Pole.” He demonstrated by making a circle with his finger and thumb and highlighting what the plunder pole was for, then moved on to a smaller example. “The Teeny Bop. And this beauty . . .” He sighed, and ran his fingers down a huge, veined rubber dick. The biggest on display. “We are in the presence of greatness. If I’m not mistaken, and I know my dicks, this is a Vibranator, named as such because it does not stop.” He pressed his hands to his heart. “You, Zander . . . sir, are a man of exquisite taste.”

“Oh, thank you. You’re too kind. It’s so nice to have people visit who appreciate dicks.”

So . . . uhm . . . I guess he wasn’t wrong.

Zander gave a small excited giggle and placed both hands on his crossed knees. “Well, my new friends, who died?”

I blinked, still getting over the sight of Zee stroking another man’s collection of dildos. “Uh . . .” A quick cough, and I was mostly back in the room. “A pack member. Cameron.”

“That vicious asshole?” Zander shivered. “Good.”

“You didn’t get along?”

“He was the main reason they exiled me out here, although I don’t mind . . . much. I like it here. They don’t mess with me and I don’t mess with them. Did they tell you what they said to me? They said I was too different, too . . . flouncy to be in the pack. Cameron spearheaded the whole petition to remove me.”

“Bastards,” Zee growled, waving the antique dildo with feeling. “Did anyone wonder if maybe Cameron deserved it?”

“Almost everyone we spoke to said he was a good person,” Victor replied, sinking deeper into the beanbag. “Except you, Zander.”

“Of course they did.” Zander tossed his head. “They’re all the same. Wait . . . you don’t think I killed him? With these nails?” He showed Zee his perfectly manicured nail art. “It takes hours to get them just right.”

“Oof. Those tiny rainbows are a work of fucking art. I am so jealous right now. Can I come live with you? These guys suck.”

“Zee’s joking,” I added, after Zander’s eyes widened.

“He sucks.” Zee grabbed and pointed the Wiggly Wizard at Victor.

“Oh, I’m sure he does,” Zander purred.

Victor sank another inch into the beanbag. “This is unsettling.”

“That proves it. There’s no way Zander could murder Cameron then hotfoot it back here and paint his fabulous nails in the limited time he had. And had they already been painted at the time of the murdering, they’d be chipped and ruined.”

It did seem unlikely that Zander was the murderer. It was more likely the pack pointed the finger because he was different. We all knew how that felt.

“I’m sorry we suspected you, Zander. We have to follow up on what we’re told. But if you ever travel south and need somewhere to stay, you should come visit the SOS Hotel,” I offered. “I think you’d like it.”

Zee slammed the dildo back down among its sentinel friends. “Oh my Gareth, yes.”

“You have a hotel?” Zander asked.

“For Lost Ones like us, yes, and it’s rated five stars on Hotels4U.”

Because Zee had rated it five stars . . . multiple times.