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Shiver : 13 Sexy Tales of Humor and Horror - Aurora Belle (читать книги онлайн бесплатно полные версии TXT) 📗

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“Ruby!” Anne called as walked to the door.

I stuck my tongue out at her when Sawyer turned around. She and I would have a major discussion later, and I’d be sure to stay at least a few feet away from her so she couldn’t put me in another choke-hold.

When I cleared the door to the dining hall, I stood there for a moment, wondering how long Anne had known about my crush on her grandson. I thought I’d been so sly; I’d never directly asked her about him. I’d wait for her to bring him up and then just piggy-back off of her discussion. I thought I’d covered my tracks flawlessly, but apparently not.

I leaned against the wall, trying to collect my thoughts.

Okay, Sawyer is here and you will have to talk to him, I told myself.

Sure, most of my encounters with Sawyer had been terrible in the past, but I was going to change all of that. Today, we would have an actual conversation that didn’t consist of me slurring my words as I shuffled past him. I’d speak slowly and clearly and be the most charming version of myself. Which might only be about one-fourth as charming as anyone else, but it was the best I could do.

* * *

“Come in, take a packet,” I said, standing at the door of the dining hall beside George as residents started to trickle in. “Come in and grab a packet.”

“Thank you,” Sandy said with a touch of attitude as she strolled in wearing her spandex costume.

Gertie walked in a second later, taking a packet and giving my work scrubs another tsk tsk. I groaned and tried to ignore her, continuing to pass out packets as people strolled in.

I’d done my best to transform the dining hall into a Murder Mystery set, but since I didn’t really know what that meant, I just went with orange and black streamers, balloons, and a bowl of punch with plastic spiders floating on top. As I finished up decorating (once I was sure Sawyer and Anne were gone), George was in a tizzy about how his script would play out. He paced around the dining hall while I set up, repeating the same concerns over and over again.

“What if no one is committed to their characters?” he asked as I dropped spiders in the punch bowl.

“They will be,” I’d replied, taking a step back and slipping on some of the punch that I’d spilled on the floor by accident. I landed flat on my back, staring up at the ceiling while I caught my breath. George didn’t even notice.

“I just want everyone to immerse themselves in the story. If they don’t, this will just be a train-wreck,” he said with a dramatic flare of his hand. All the while I was lying on the ground.

I’d been lucky to survive the afternoon, and I was still trying to console George as Anne and Sawyer walked through the doorway. Sawyer smiled at me as he walked by. Anne paused, watching him take a seat in the middle of the room, before turning to me.

“Are there enough packets left for everyone to participate?” she asked, glancing between me and George.

I looked down at the packets in my hand. There were still four left. Which meant out of the twenty people who’d already arrived, only two of them decided they wanted to participate in the game.

“Why yes, Anne, there is enough,” I said, holding her eye contact as I passed her a packet.

The edge of her mouth lifted in a smirk. “You aren’t mad at me, are you?” Her tone gave her away. She knew I was annoyed with her and she was playing the innocent old woman card. It wouldn’t work on me.

“Nooooo.” I exaggerated the o’s until I knew that she knew she was in deep shit.

She leaned in closer and whispered so that only I could hear. “I’ve lived on this earth for a very long time and I’ve learned that sometimes you just have to cut the shit. You’ve been eyeing my grandson for the past two years and both of you are too scared to do anything about it.”

I scoffed, even holding my hand over my heart for emphasis. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mmhm,” she mumbled as she pulled away from me. “George, make sure Ruby gets a packet. She’s sure good at acting today.”

Had she not been my best friend and eighty-something years old, I would have flipped her off. Damn that, Anne. I couldn’t ever stay mad at her.

The rest of the attendees finally strolled into the dining hall, and by 7:30 P.M., George and I were standing in front of the room with two packets remaining.

“We need two more resident volunteers before we can start,” I said, waving the packets out in front of me like I was trying to auction them off.

The sea of residents stared at one another, waiting for someone else to volunteer. Out of twenty of them, there’d only been four volunteers so far: Anne, Sandy, Gertie, and Mr. Tennon. George would have volunteered, but he was out since he knew the plot.

“Seriously, someone has to volunteer or we’ll all just sit here,” I said, trying to get the ball rolling.

Sawyer glanced around the room before he finally shrugged and stood up.

“If it’s okay with everyone, I’ll play,” he said.

Anne clapped wildly, but no one else cared to comment as Sawyer stepped toward me.

“You should play, too,” he said with a devious smile as he slid the packet out of my hand.

I didn’t want to be a part of the murder mystery. I think I even specifically opted out of it on numerous occasions, but we were still down one player and if no one wanted to volunteer, I didn’t really have a choice.

I glanced around the room one more time, even holding eye contact with a few residents to make them squirm in their seats.

“Okay, fine, I’ll be the last person. Let’s do this,” I said, opening up my packet and peeking inside to find a script, a small description card, and a few props.

George clapped his hands and shouted, “Players, go read your cards and put on anything provided for you in your packet. We’ll meet back here in five minutes to start the game.”

As I made my way toward the bathroom, Sawyer caught up to me.

“Who are you?” he asked with a small smile.

“Detective Maverick,” I said, reading the front of the packet.

He nodded. “Apparently I’m Jim Fitzpatrick, the son of Gwyneth Fitzpatrick.”

I laughed at the silly expression he was making. “Thanks for volunteering by the way. I thought we were just going to sit there all night.”

“Yeah, no worries. I have a Halloween party to go to, but it doesn’t start until later,” he said with a shrug.

I thought about what I had planned for later. The options were: reading, watching a scary movie, and eating enough candy to go into a coma. I’d most likely do all of the above. Of course, I didn’t dare tell Sawyer that.

“Oh yeah, me too.” I nodded with what I hoped was a cool, nonchalant expression.

He smiled as we turned a corner toward the bathrooms near the dining hall. “Well then, let’s solve this mystery.”

Ten minutes later, the five of us were standing up at the front of the dining hall with our scripts in hand and our props attached to various parts of our bodies. George strolled across the stage in front of us, announcing the players to the crowd of on-lookers who would be helping us solve the mystery. I browsed over my script as he read aloud.

SETTING: An old estate in the heart of Savannah, Georgia.

THE PLAYERS

Gwyneth Fitzpatrick: An eighty-year-old woman who has oil money from generations past. She owns an estate in Savannah and has invited a few close friends over for a dinner party. She has two children, Jim and Hannah Fitzpatrick, who are both attending the party.

Gwyneth was played by Sandy in her latex Catwoman suit. Seemed appropriate.

Jim Fitzpatrick: Gwyneth’s eldest child. He’s a prominent lawyer in downtown Savannah. He was married to a young debutante when he was younger, but she died in a horrible lipstick accident the year before.

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