Shiver : 13 Sexy Tales of Humor and Horror - Aurora Belle (читать книги онлайн бесплатно полные версии TXT) 📗
“Ah-hah!” I said, pointing toward it, at once proud of myself for being an actual sleuth, but also concerned that George had incorporated an actual knife into our murder mystery game.
“What is it?” Sawyer asked, his gaze following my outstretched finger.
I didn’t bother responding. I headed toward the knife block like a detective on the trail. Which I guess I actually was. Hah.
From across the kitchen I’d only seen the knife block and the empty slot, but as I stepped closer to the chromed surface, I noticed a folded note stuck beneath the heavy wooden block. I twisted around, unsure of whether or not the letter belonged to a staff member in the kitchen or if I had actually found another clue for the murder mystery game.
“Do you think we should touch it?” Sawyer asked from behind me. I jumped at his voice, not realizing how close he was to me. When I glanced over my shoulder, our mouths were only a few inches away from one another and my shoulder hit his chest.
“I think it’s our next clue,” I said, feeling more confident about it once I peered back around and saw that the handwriting on the front looked like George’s.
Sawyer reached forward and tilted the block back so that I could slide the letter out.
I read it aloud as Sawyer searched around the area for any more clues.
“Dear Mrs. Fitzgerald,
I am very busy with clients for the next few days, but I do have a few spare moments to help you update your will. However, I will need you to come down to my office at your earliest convenience, as you will need to sign off on the changes you requested in person.
Sincerely,
I flipped the note over, looking for more hints, but the back of the paper was blank.
“Who is Jerry P. Lane?” Sawyer asked, resting his hip against the chrome countertop after concluding his search for more clues. The letter was the only thing we had to go on.
“I don’t know, but he’s a lawyer and he was going to update Gwyneth’s will. Maybe the will had something to do with her murder.”
Sawyer’s lips split into a shit-eating grin. “Of course it does. I think every murder ever has had to do with a will.”
I laughed and shook my head, rereading the letter once more.
“Where should we go next?” I asked.
He thought for a moment. “We can either go back to the room and tell everyone what we found, or we can try and find office 113.”
Office 113. I liked that idea. It meant I got more alone time with Sawyer, and I also didn’t have to stare at Sandy in a Catwoman outfit any longer than necessary.
“Okay. George might have just meant the office at Paradise Springs, so we can head there,” I said.
Sawyer nodded and put his hand on my lower back again to guide me toward the kitchen door.
“We make a good team,” he said with a confident tone.
I tried to concentrate on walking through the door to the kitchen without having the metal chrome smack me in the face, but there was a question nagging me, and before I thought better of it, I decided to bring up the subject while I was feeling ballsy.
“So, Anne told me you and your girlfriend broke up?” The second the question was out, I instantly paled. Could I have asked that in a smoother way? Or should I have just kept my mouth shut? We weren’t on a date, or even hanging out as friends. No, instead we were walking around a nursing home solving a pretend murder. Oh wait, I’m sorry, retirement community.
Sawyer’s face twisted into a funny expression before he answered. “Does my grandma blab about my love life to everyone?”
“No! She’s not like, ‘Hey everyone, Sawyer is single and ready to mingle.’ She and I just talk a lot,” I shrugged, trying to play it cool.
Sawyer laughed. “Ah, well she always talks about you to me, so I figured it probably worked both ways.”
I smiled, imagining all of the insane things Anne probably told Sawyer about me.
“But yes, I’m single,” he added as we turned down the corridor that led to the main office for Paradise Springs. It would probably be locked since it was after hours, but maybe there was something waiting for us on the door. “What about you?”
My heart stopped. “Me?”
He nudged my shoulder, playfully. “Yeah, are you seeing anyone? My grandma never gives me any details when I ask about you.”
My heart stopped again. Am I dead?
“You ask Anne about me?”
“You’re really good at answering questions with more questions,” he laughed, his eyes locked on me for a moment before they drifted to something behind my head and his brows tugged together.
I spun around to see what he was looking at, and that’s when I saw a small piece of paper taped to a janitor’s closet. On it, someone had scribbled “Office 113”.
The hallway surrounding the janitor’s closet was dead quiet. The normal sounds that accompanied life at Paradise Springs were absent.
“Why does it feel like an actual murder has happened?” I asked, stepping up to the brass-handled door, suddenly too nervous to open it.
“Are you scared?” Sawyer asked, stepping beside me to reach for the handle so that our arms brushed together. Goosebumps bloomed across my skin as I nodded.
“A little. George is a bit out there, and I have no clue how serious he took this whole game,” I admitted. “I feel like something is going to jump out at me as soon as we open the door.”
Sawyer took a pretend puff of his pipe, studying the door. “I’ll check it out first then.”
His tone was confident, as if he was taking the game as seriously as I was.
“Step back, Detective,” he said, the slight upturn of his mouth pulling him out of character.
When he turned the handle and pulled open the door, the small space was pitch black. The scent of cleaning products and cardboard storage boxes stung my nostrils as he pulled the door open even wider.
I reached out to touch his shoulder just before he stepped inside. He turned to look back at me, his green eyes catching hold of mine.
“Be careful,” I mocked in the same tone a wife would use when she sent her husband off to war.
Sawyer dipped his head and stepped inside, his shoes hitting the tiled floor with a soft clap. He dipped out of site for a moment, and then his head popped back into view when he pulled the long cord to turn on the overhead light.
“Oh,” I sighed, a bit disappointed with the contents surrounding him.
Brooms and buckets and boxes were piled up high in the corner. Not a decaying dead body or a spooky ghost like I’d been anticipating.
Sawyer turned in a circle, inspecting his surroundings, before his eyes fell to something at his feet. He squatted down to grab it and I leaned forward, trying to see what it was. When he stood back up, he had a piece of silky material in one hand and what I recognized to be a tube of lipstick in the other. I reached forward for the tube, opening up the lid to see a bright red color. When I glanced back to Sawyer, he’d unfolded the silky material and was holding it between his thumb and pointer finger with both hands.
“Oh my god.”
It was a banana hammock, a bright yellow banana hammock, and when our eyes met on top of the material, we both completely lost it in a fit of hysterics.
“Don’t touch it! What if that isn’t even a clue and you’re just touching some random janitor’s underwear!” By that point I was practically on the ground laughing so hard. Sawyer instantly dropped the material and it fell the ground, still splayed out enough for me to read what was on the front: Sexy Thang. Yes it said “thang” as in “thing”, but with an A instead of a I. Oh boy, I really hoped it was a clue for our murder mystery game or I wouldn’t be able to make contact with any of the janitors for a few months at the very least.