Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 67432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
“The last of our guests,” my dad said, clapping his hands together. He looked a little stressed but well put together, his suit thrown over the back of his chair. He wore a blue-and-pink polka-dotted bow tie, which I thought was an interesting choice.
Eric and I took our seats at the long dining table. There were already delicious-looking appetizers placed throughout—tiny stacked cheeseburgers, garlic and parmesan peppers in a savory ponzu sauce, a bowl of escargots— along with champagne glasses filled to the brim for every person. Two large bouquets of roses and lavender gave the table an impressive height, as if the flowers were reaching up to touch the chandelier that hung from the ceiling. A couple of floor-to-ceiling windows looked out at the scenic French Alps off in the far distance, painted yellow and purple by the setting sun.
It was the perfect setting for what would end up being an absolute train wreck of a night.
“Alright, well, we all know Mom loved these kinds of games,” Jen said, standing up and moving a strand of hair from her face. Or was she brushing away a tear? “And since this trip is mostly in her memory, I thought it would be great if we could dress up and honor her by being the family unit she knew and loved. I wish she could be here to play with us, but I’m sure she’s looking down at us right now, ready to yell at Colton for missing the most obvious clues.”
I laughed along with the rest of the table. I did tend to be the most oblivious sibling, although tonight, I was determined to keep my focus sharp. It was why I kept glancing toward Archie and Wendy, who were both extra quiet tonight. Wendy sat with her back straight and her body angled slightly away from Archie. It was the complete opposite of the body language between my other brother, Matt, and Krystine, who were clinging to each other like they were about to float off into the sea together.
Jen went on to explain the rules of the night, the lights going off just as she finished. A shriek followed, the lights coming back on to reveal one of the housekeepers lying on the floor, fake blood oozing from underneath her. A fake knife rested next to her, along with a note. Jen got up and grabbed the note right when Eric’s phone buzzed. I noticed his attention shift down to his lap, where I glanced to see a video playing on his screen. I immediately recognized my mom’s living room, clear as day.
Time froze. Even though Jen was still speaking, I couldn’t make out a single word she was saying. I had to look away. If I witnessed my mom’s murder, I would end up vomiting all over the table. I gripped Eric’s leg, trying to stop the world from spinning.
“Okay,” Jen said, taking her seat. “So let’s start with questions. We can have a big roundtable type of interrogation session while we eat our salads and then break off into smaller groups. That sound good?”
“Jen, you seem awfully in control of all this,” Matt said suspiciously, a hand on his chin. “Almost like you orchestrated the murder yourself.”
Jen rolled her eyes. “Matt, I have a clear alibi. I was at work at the time of the murder. Check the fact sheet that’s under your plate.”
Matt moved his plate and read over the sheet, eyebrow still arched. Jen continued on, but all I could keep thinking about was the video that had landed on Eric’s phone.
“Alright, so who’s got a good question we should start with?” Jen said, a notepad open next to her Caesar salad.
“Eric, you should know,” Kendall said, narrowing her lids so that her gaze took the sharpness of a knife. “You’re the private detective, after all. Is that why you’re here? Faking your relationship with Colton?”
What in the actual fuck?
Kendall had clearly woken up today and chosen violence.
I looked at her, shocked, before my head swiveled to Eric, who cleared his throat and sat back in his chair. How did she know any of that? And why was she bringing it up now? Kendall and I were never close, so I didn’t expect a private heart-to-heart conversation, but she was still my sister. I did expect some kind of compassion from her.
That’s when Eric further sent me into a state of shock. “You’re right,” he said. “It’s all true, but I’m not here to investigate a fake death. I’m here looking into a real one. The murder of your mother.”
What? What the hell was going on? Had mercury suddenly slipped into a severe retrograde? Did some swamp witch just pull out a voodoo doll and turn me upside down?
Eric’s hand on my thigh started to move. A single finger tracing shapes—no, letters. He was writing a message on my leg. Lay the bong? He used his palm to motion wiping the slate before tracing the letters one last time… Play along.