Lucy Clark Will Not Apologize by Margo Rabb

Author:Margo Rabb
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Quill Tree Books
Published: 2021-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

Twenty

Scouts From Hell

“There’s only one thing to do,” Mimsy said, back at her house. We’d visited Edith—she was in her bedroom doing well, with no significant injuries, and was resting now. We let her sleep while we tried to make a plan.

“Follow me,” Mimsy said as she led Dyna and me up to the third floor, to a room she called her boudoir. It looked like a fancy boutique with racks of dresses, a row of pressed men’s suits—“A woman should always wear traditional menswear sometimes,” she said—and rainbows of sweaters stacked on glass shelves. A cupboard displayed hundreds of shoes and purses, like works of art.

“First, we need costumes,” Mimsy said. Her hands swam through the clothes on the racks above us. They’d been organized by size and color, a dancing wave of silk and wool and cotton. “Once we look and feel the part, the rest will fall into place.”

I touched the sequin flowers on a black satin purse. “What parts do we need to feel?”

“The murderer can’t know what we’re doing,” she said. “That would not be safe.”

“What are we doing?” Dyna asked.

“Sneaking into the building down the street to search for clues. This time, in costume,” Mimsy said. “Trust me. Everything important needs a costume.”

“I think people will probably still recognize us, if we see someone we know.” I told them how I’d just promised Jack that we wouldn’t do any more rule breaking.

“We’ll make sure he doesn’t find out,” Mimsy said. “The costumes will help. Here we go! I haven’t seen you for years, but I knew you were waiting for me.” She was speaking to two old Girl Scout uniforms, which she plucked from the racks to show us—forest-green skirts, white blouses, green neckties, and badge-covered green sashes. “Let’s see if they fit you.”

“Why do we need to dress up as Girl Scouts?” Dyna asked.

“When I walked by that building this morning, I saw workmen inside—what better way to have them buzz us inside than to sell them cookies? Who can say no to cookies?”

“But we don’t have any cookies.” Dyna sat on a blue velvet-cushioned chaise in the corner. Above it, a purple bookcase displayed antique classics, their navy and brown spines looking welcoming and well-loved. “I’ve never seen books in a closet before,” Dyna said. “I like it.”

“My decorating scheme is bordello meets indie bookshop,” Mimsy said. “Existentialist meets fille de joie. And I always have Girl Scout cookies. I keep ten boxes on hand at all times. And we can print some order forms off the internet, too. Sell what I have and take orders for more.”

An hour later, we headed out the door. Mimsy was dressed as our troop leader in a USO uniform she’d saved from an off-Broadway play.

We did look sort of official. If it was 1941.

“Normally I’d be embarrassed in this situation. But in times like this, you have to think, WWLED?” Dyna said as we walked down the street.

“Exactly,” I said.

“What does that mean?” Mimsy asked.

“What Would Lucy and Ethel Do,” Dyna explained.

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