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“Absolutely!” I shoved Ray at the dining room door, but he didn’t want to go.
“Mmhfmf!”
“What?”
He pulled my hand away. “What the hell are you doing?”
“What are you doing?” I hissed. “Get them back in the dining room!”
“Why? They gotta get baths—”
“Not now!”
“Then when?”
“After I have time to talk to Claire!”
“You haven’t talked to Claire?”
“When have I had time to talk to Claire?”
He put dirty hands on terry-cloth-covered hips. “You had time to talk to her last night. You telling me she don’t know we’re here?”
“That’s what I’m telling you!” I whispered, while shoving Ray into the dining room and pushing his guys in after him.
“And I’m telling you this is bullshit!” Ray ducked under my arm. “I’m gonna go—”
“Back inside,” I said, and whirled him through the door again.
“Cut that out!”
“Then stop being a dick!”
“I’m being a dick? You—”
I slammed the door on him, and casually leaned against it as Claire came down the stairs. And then noticed, about the same time she did, the small yellow object at the bottom of the steps. She bent down and picked it up.
“I don’t remember us having a rubber ducky.”
“It’s mine.” I smiled brightly.
Her eyebrows raised.
She came the rest of the way down the stairs. “Are you . . . waiting for something?”
“Dinner. Starving. You know how it is.”
“I saved you some soup—”
“Someone ate it.” I smiled winningly. “So hungry.”
Claire blinked at me. “I’ll, uh, go make you something.”
“That would be great!”
I smiled some more.
And then stopped, because it appeared to be freaking her out.
