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

Jim was played by Sawyer. He still had his soccer jersey on, but now he’d added a cane, pipe, and monocle as well. Jim Fitzpatrick was apparently very stylish.

Hannah was played by Anne, who was carrying a paint palette and a paint brush. She’d added a few streaks of paint to her hair which I thought was a cute touch.

Antonio was played by Mr. Tennon, who I knew from experience was probably sporting some whitey-tighties beneath his suspendered pants. Meow.

Izzie was played by Gertie,who did not look pleased to be wearing a skimpy maid’s outfit over her pants and blouse. She had her arms crossed over her chest in an attempt to conceal the feather duster in her hand.

Detective Maverick was played by me. That’s right. I opened up that packet to find a thick mustache stuck to a gold police badge, a pair of aviators, and some plastic handcuffs. I’d stood in the women’s bathroom after sticking the mustache on, trying to find any sort of humor in the entire situation. It was so thick, and brown, and did I mention thick? I waggled my eyebrows for emphasis. That’s right, Sawyer. I hope you like your girls with big ol’ mustaches. I’ll admit, once I put the aviators and badge on, I’d fallen into my character. Heck, I even started walking with a bit more swagger.

Anne couldn’t look at me without cracking up, but that might have been because I kept telling her she had the right to remain silent as we walked back to the dining hall.

“You look like an 80s porn star,” Gertie said to me with her lips pressed together and her head shaking back and forth.

I wanted to ask her how she knew what an 80s porn looked like, but Sawyer walked out of the bathroom right then and I didn’t think we were close enough yet for me to say the word “porn” in front of him. At least not while looking like a male porn star. That might have been overkill.

“Okay! Does everyone understand who is playing whom?” George asked, walking in front of us and going through the names again.

“I’m confused,” one resident said, raising his hand. “Why is Sandy in a cat woman outfit if she’s supposed to be hosting a dinner party?”

George crinkled his paper and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Yeah — this is confusing,” a few other residents chimed in until George had to go through and explain the scenario again to everyone.

“Pretend that everyone is in proper costume and that they aren’t your friends. They are now characters in a murder mystery.”

While George rambled on, Sawyer leaned closer to me and pulled the pipe out of his mouth. “I think you should wear a mustache all the time. It looks really good,” he joked with a sly smile.

I stared straight ahead. Sawyer is joking with you. Be funny. Be funny or so help me.

I stroked the fake hair above my lip and turned to him. “That monocle doesn’t look so bad either.”

“How long did it take you to grow that cool ‘stache?” he asked.

“About ten seconds,” I joked. “What’s in the pipe?”

“Just some manly tobacco or something,” he said, repositioning his monocle so that it wasn’t poking him in the eye.

We were joking, right? So why did it actually feel like we were flirting with each other?

“Are you the murderer?” I asked with a smile.

He laughed, shaking his head. “Wow, Detective, you’re really straight forward. There hasn’t even been a murder yet.”

Oh right, I’d forgotten how the game actually worked. Maybe I should have been paying attention to George after all.

“Okay!” George said, clapping his hands and walking over to the doorway of dining hall. “I’m going to flip this light switch and then the game will begin. Does everyone understand the rules?”

There were still a few murmurs in the crowd, and a few random words were thrown around, like “dentures” and “fiber”, clearly indicating the level of confusion felt throughout the room (were we all still on the same topic?), but George chose to ignore them and flipped the light switch anyway.

When the lights cut out, Sawyer’s hand brushed mine and I glanced over to try to see him in the darkness. There was no use; my eyes hadn’t adjusted to the dark yet.

“This monocle doesn’t have night vision,” he whispered next to my ear.

I burst out laughing, ruining the seriousness of the scene.

“Get into your characters!” George bellowed across the room before flipping the light switch back on a moment later.

When he did, we found not one, but two bodies, lying on the ground.

The game had taken a dark turn.

Gwyneth Fitzgerald, aka Catwoman Sandy, was lying on the ground with her limbs artfully spread out around her. She’d been murdered and we were supposed to be concerned about that, but everyone was focused on the fact that a random audience member, Beatriz, was also lying on the ground, blinking her eyes and staring up at the ceiling.

“Uh, Beatriz?” I asked, stepping forward.

“What’s going on? Were there two murders? This is confusing,” Anne asked, glancing back and forth between the bodies.

George flew into action, practically fuming. “Beatriz, why are you lying on the ground? You aren’t supposed to be dead. You aren’t even a character in the game.”

Beatriz propped herself up on her elbows, her dyed red hair now sticking up all over the place.

“Oh, I was confused about the rules,” Beatriz began to explain in an old, scraggly voice. “I played a game once when there were random murders and then we had to guess—”

George cut her off with a wave of his hand. “Beatriz! This is not that game and there was only one murder tonight.”

“Stop trying to steal my thunder, Beatriz,” Sandy said, temporarily breaking her character.

Even in death, Sandy was a bully.

“People! Let’s focus. Beatriz, please take a seat and we’ll keep going as planned,” George said, dabbing the sweat from his forehead. He was losing control of his cast, and I could tell it was stressing him out. “Everyone take our your cue cards and read what you’re supposed to do first.”

I pulled out a note card that had a #1 printed at the top, and read the first instruction: Detective Maverick, you arrive on the scene after Hannah Fitzgerald calls you. Make sure you examine the body for clues.

I turned to Anne, Hannah Fitzgerald, and waited for her to read her cue card.

“Oh dear,” Anne began, with mock seriousness, as she read straight from the card. “Gwyneth Fitzgerald has been murdered in her own home during her own dinner party. We have to call the police!”

I had to bite my hand to keep from laughing while she read the words. But when Sawyer nudged me forward, I realized everyone was waiting for me to start reading from my card, considering I was the police.

“Don’t worry, I’ve arrived!” I said, only remembering that my character was supposed to have a thick Scottish accent after I started, so I quickly worked it in. “Don’t fret, lads and lassies. I’m here to solve the case!”

“I couldn’t understand any of that,” Sawyer said with a laugh.