"Oh yes, of course. Hi, Alex. I'm so sorry. You look different now." I didn't. I looked the same. I dressed the same. I wasn't one for change really, but that was okay. I wouldn't take it personally. I just hoped this wouldn't be a pattern tonight.
I stood back and listened as she told us how she still worked here as a copywriter for the commercials the station still made. She also brought us up to date on how proudly her mum had told everybody about Sally's stint on the state's baseball team.
I remembered Sally's mum. She was always quite ill, and Sally had the responsibility of looking after her. It was good to hear she was still with the living, doing well, and a proud supporter of her daughter.
Turning away, I saw Wes walking toward us. This reunion was his idea, but with the help of our former department manager, Rachel, tonight was actually happening.
Wes used to work in the production area and was a really sweet guy. Age was being reasonably kind to him. The only difference was that he now had a little less hair and was slightly rounder in the tummy area. He was a bit older than Georgie and I. I guessed somewhere in his forties.
"Hi, Georgie. Hi, Alex. Welcome. It's so good to see you both again." He smiled, reaching forward for an awkward kiss on the cheek. I'm not much of a cheek kisser, I will admit. I always found it a bit awkward, really.
"Hi, Wes. You look good," I commented, lying about his yellow floral shirt and secretly wishing I could reach up and wipe my cheek. He was a sloppy kisser. I watched him blush.
"Thanks, Alex. That's really nice of you to say, and I'll add that you look fantastic. But then again, you always did." I did? I'd seen the photos, and let me tell you, that wasn't how I remembered it.
Georgie laughed. "Oh, Wes, you're funny." She giggled.
Humph.
"How've you been, Alex? Did you ever get that business up and running?" he asked.
This was one of the things I'd been dreading about coming here tonight—having to explain the last five years and the numerous jobs I'd had. Not that it was all bad—at least I was working—but when I'd been handed my redundancy, I told everybody it was fine by me as I was about to open my own business as a beauty therapist.
I had indeed gone to beauty school and opened my own business—with Mum's money, no less—but that business had failed miserably. That was a story I was not looking forward to repeating tonight. Especially if I saw my ex-boyfriend, Jake.
"Umm…"
Thankfully, I was saved from answering. Walking up behind Wes was Rachel, her loud, booming voice drowning out anything I was about to say.
Rachel was five-foot-eight, had a big ego, and a temper to match. Her skinny jeans and skintight red shirt showed off all her assets perfectly.
She ignored Georgie and me completely and pulled Wes aside, whispering something in his ear. I heard him mumble a reply, which obviously hadn't pleased her as she flicked her dark hair over her shoulder and spun on her heel away from us. Wes blushed and turned his attention back to Georgie.
"Sorry about that. Now, what were you saying?"
Georgie continued telling him her life story, but after a few minutes, I got bored and wandered off for a look around the studio. The walls had been transformed into a gallery of old photos taken at various times over the last fifty years of the station's history. I remembered some of the faces in the photos, but even those I didn't remember shone happily, reminding me of the fun we had working here.
Once I'd done a lap of the room, I stepped over to Georgie, who'd moved on from Wes and was now chatting with an elderly gentleman I didn't recognize.
"Well hello, lovely lady." He smiled at me.
"Hello," I replied.
"This is Arthur." Georgie made the introduction. "He works here helping Mum and Dad." Georgie's mum and dad were still employed here, acting as jacks-of-all-trades.
"Oh wow!" I said excitedly.
"You look familiar," he said. Finally, someone recognized me. "Did I work with you in the seventies?" he asked.
I felt the blush start at my neck and spread rapidly north.
"No, sorry, you didn't. I wasn't born until 1986," I mumbled. Quickly changing the subject, I whispered to Georgie, "Hey, who is that woman over there standing next to Sally?" The woman in question had done exactly what she had been asked to do and had put on a name badge. Maybe this was something I should've done.
"Her name tag says Katie. I don't remember her though. Why?"
"She keeps staring at me as if she knows me, but I don't remember her either." I had been discreetly looking at her for the past ten minutes, wondering if I knew her. I really hoped I wouldn't do to her what everyone seemed to do to me. It was a bit embarrassing to keep having to repeat who I was.
"She looks about our age." Georgie was right. Katie looked to be in her late twenties. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Her white shirt was tight under her navy-blue jacket. Her jeans sat low on her hips, and her makeup was immaculate. "Maybe she's a current employee."
"But she's looking at me like she knows me."
"Sorry, I don't know who she is." Georgie shrugged.
Me neither. So why was my intuition buzzing?
CHAPTER TWO
I wanted to question Georgie more about her, but the lights dimmed, and Rachel walked into the spotlight, stopping behind the microphone stand. She tapped it to see if it was working, and I cringed at the squealing sound coming through the speakers. She laughed and flipped her long, mousy-blonde hair over her shoulder with her free hand, lifting the microphone from its base as she did so.
"Hello, everyone!" she sang into the microphone. "Are we all having a great time?"
She obviously was. She swayed as she put her hand up to shield her eyes and survey the crowd. I figured she needed to slow down on her alcohol intake. Either that or she needed urgent medical attention, as that sway could not be normal.
I looked around the room to see who was listening to her. It appeared I was the only one, probably because she scared the crap out of me. I was far too afraid not to listen when she spoke.
"Hellooo," she called, her voice much louder than the first time.
Still, nobody stopped what they were doing.
"Hey!" she yelled, her eyebrows knitting together as her magnified voice boomed around the studio walls and rang in my ears.
Okay… That got everyone's attention. Fifty or so sets of eyes turned her way, and the noise level in the room dropped until all I could hear was the rustle of clothing.
"Great," trilled Rachel, but I could see the annoyance in her shoulders. Rachel had a bad temper. You really didn't want to get on the wrong side of her. Maybe I should run and get her another drink. Oops, too late. Wes had already done it. She accepted the glass and leaned back into him.
I raised my eyebrows as I looked at Georgie. "They look cozy," I whispered, turning my attention to Wes's wife, who stood by the food table. I suddenly remembered why I loved working here so much.
"Huh?" she murmured, looking up from her phone.
"Wes and Rachel." I nodded toward the stage.
"Oh, yeah. Some history there."
There was?
I opened my mouth to ask Georgie about it when Rachel's voice boomed around the room once again.
"I hope everyone has remembered our theme tonight." She giggled, raising her glass and taking a sip of her drink. "I'm sure you're all keen to get started," she continued. "Now, what will happen shortly is there will be a murder! Who will the victim be?"
Looking around the room, I could have had a guess, but maybe actually killing Rachel was taking things to the extreme. She was a bit of a cow, but murdering her was a little over the top.
"You'll have to wait and see," she continued, giggling again, her drink sloshing around in her glass. "First, we need to get into groups as you'll all be competing to see who can solve the mystery first. And, of course, we need team leaders!" I felt my stomach flip at the memory that I'd been chosen as a team leader.
Wes st
epped offstage and returned, carrying a pile of envelopes. I felt the excitement pick up around the room as people started to whisper to one another.
"The team leaders already know who they are, and I certainly hope you all remembered to bring the boxes I sent with your invite," continued Rachel.
I'd left the box at home, but I did have the contents with me. I patted my handbag, shivering as I remembered that awful moment when I'd opened the box containing my invite and nine dead butterflies had stared back at me, one poor lone survivor fluttering its wings in a desperate attempt to escape the box. I have no idea why Rachel thought mailing a box of butterflies would be a good idea or why she thought the Westport Post Office would have delivered them fast enough for the butterflies to have survived the trip. I'd returned the butterflies to the earth, but I did bring the other items that were in the box.
It had contained a letter, a map, a photo, a notepad, a cipher key, and the most hideous headband I had ever seen, stating I was a team leader.
"Team leaders," called Rachel, almost swallowing the microphone as she spoke. "Please open your box, and put your headgear on. This is how your team will recognize you tonight!"
Was she serious? There was no way in hell I was wearing that headband!
"Where's yours, Alex?" she asked, a smug smile playing on her lips.
I huffed, opened my handbag, and retrieved the offending object. It was fluorescent pink with lots of sparkly beads and a big purple butterfly bouncing on a spring. Painted across the band were the words Team Leader. I closed my eyes and wondered why I hadn't thought to leave it at home.
"Okay, leaders, please step up to the stage. We're about to announce your teams."
The noise level in the room picked up as ten of us moved forward. I pushed my way through the crowd and found myself with a group containing a few current employees mixed with some older ones, but it was the last lady to step forward who bothered me—Katie, the woman who smiled like she knew me. I smiled back and figured I'd avoid eye contact after that, as I still had absolutely no idea who she was. Unfortunately, she decided to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with me, her butterfly-less green headband sitting proudly atop her head.
"Come on, leaders, suit up!" said Rachel, giggling.
I watched as the men put on caps and the women put on their headbands. That was so unfair. How come the men got caps? And how come I was the only one with a big purple butterfly hanging off my headband?
"Come on, Alex. Put your headband on!"
The spotlight moved to illuminate me. I cringed and thought Rachel was paying me back for the one time I'd stood up to her all those years ago. I considered lying, hiding it behind my back and saying I'd forgotten it, but everyone was staring at me, so I sighed and pulled it onto my head as my blush raced north. The big purple butterfly bounced happily, annoying me every two seconds when it bounced so low it caught my vision. Arghh. Rachel looked at me and grinned.
"Okay. Wes will hand you an envelope. It contains the list of your team members," she explained as Wes walked past and handed each of us an envelope. I turned mine over, put my finger under the seal, and ripped it open.
"Now, people," Rachel continued, the joy in her voice apparent, "when you hear your name called, please come and stand beside your team leader."
Wes stepped up to the first guy in the line—Brent. Brent was known as the workplace lothario. Looking at the way he stood, confidence oozing from every pore, he obviously still thought he was.
We listened as he read his all-female list. My eyebrows moved somewhere near my hairline as I realized he'd had affairs with at least two of his group. I wondered if his current girlfriend, Deanne, knew that.
Katie was next to call her list. I listened to the names, including Georgie's, and thought how they were all from my era. Funny how I didn't remember Katie, though?
I looked at Georgie and raised my eyebrows, wondering why she wasn't in my group.
Then it was my turn. Wes moved to stand alongside me and placed the microphone to my lips.
Removing the A4-sized piece of paper from its envelope, I unfolded it and read the list. In my group I had Matt Wilson, my ex-boyfriend Jake Radburn, and Sam McDermott.
Matt, a reporter for WTN news, stepped up immediately. I'd seen his gorgeous face on the six o'clock news every night. In fact, he was the only reason I switched it on. He was about my age, had short sandy-blond hair that curled sexily at his collar, vibrant blue eyes, was close to six feet tall, and fit his clothes exceptionally well. And I'll admit, I did give a little nervous giggle the second I shook his hand.
Next up was Jake. I counted my heartbeats as I waited for him to step forward. When I met Jake, he was the best-looking guy at the station. He had the most beautiful dark eyes, shiny black hair, and the smile of a god. Unfortunately, he knew it, but all those years ago, I was too young and naïve to know that.
As the crowd parted and allowed him through, our eyes met. I could tell he was no happier about this than I was. And age was treating him well. Damn.
As Jake stepped up and stood beside Matt, I looked back at the paper and called the last name on the list. "Sam."
As he hurriedly stepped forward, a handheld news camera in his hand, his grin was almost infectious. I felt my heart rate increase for a whole different reason. I remembered Sam, but in my memory, he didn't look like that. He'd blossomed, as my mum would say. He stood over six feet tall, had sun-bleached blond hair, an extremely sexy mouth, and was all muscle from head to gorgeous toe. I felt my palms go sweaty merely standing in his presence. Oh boy. Tonight would be a challenge.
"Hi, Sam," I heard Georgie say from behind me.
I was actually quite impressed at how steady her voice sounded. I didn't think mine would be anywhere near that steady. I turned to look at her.
"Hi, Georgie," he said, leaning in for a cheek kiss. Georgie looked back at me and smiled.
"Sam, you remember Alex, don't you? Alex, Sam is Matt's cameraman. Remember I was telling you about him a few weeks ago?"
Yes, I did remember her telling me about him, and she did tell me how sexy he was, but she failed to mention that this was the same Sam whom we had worked with years ago. The one who, at the time, was scrawny and constantly asking me out. Well, at least that's what I thought he was trying to do. He never actually came out and asked me directly.
It was always things like, "Hi, Alex, what are you doing tonight?"
And I'd reply, "Going out with friends." At which point he would just retreat back behind the senior cameraman he was working with. When I started dating Jake, Sam never spoke to me again.
I stared up at Sam and the five o'clock shadow framing his soft, full lips. His smile showed the dimple in his right cheek. My eyes moved to meet his, and I shivered as they twinkled back at me, as blue as the sky.
Suddenly, I was rethinking my opinion on cheek kisses. Maybe now would be a good time to overcome my dislike of them. And there could always be the added bonus of leaning the wrong way and meeting those lips. Actually, scratch that. I think if those lips came anywhere near mine, my heart would actually stop beating. I silently cursed myself for never accepting his offer all those years ago.
"Hi, Alex." He smiled slowly, showing his perfectly straight teeth. He then leaned in for the cheek kiss, and I felt my heart rate kick up and become erratic. I held my breath as I felt the warmth of his breath touch my cheek, and a feather-light kiss whispered over my skin.
"H…hi," I replied, breathlessly.
I was saved from having to say any more as someone walked behind Matt, causing him to bump into me and spill his beer all down the front of my shirt. He blushed and immediately tried to wipe it off.
"Matt!" cried Georgie.
Personally, it wasn't that I was not enjoying the attention my cleavage was receiving from him, but I'd heard he had a girlfriend, so it probably wasn't the most appropriate thing for him to be doing.
"What?" he said, stopping mid-wipe and looking at Georgie.
Matt looked at his hand and then up into my eyes. His blushing kicked up to full heat.
"I…I…I'm really sorry," he stammered, finally removing his hand.
I smiled back at him but didn't want to admit that was the most attention my chest had had in a very long time.
Thankfully, the next group was announced, pulling everyone's attention away from my cleavage.
"Tonight's going to be fun!" said Sam, his lips close to my ear as he put the camera on his shoulder and moved it around our group.
I hated cameras. In fact, as much as I'd loved my job here, cameras were the downside, seemingly everywhere you bloody turned.
"Hello, Alex," whispered Jake. I changed my scowl to my very best smile and turned to face him.
"Hello, Jake," I replied. "How are you?"
"Good, thank you," he replied, an awkward smile firmly in place.
"Whose group is Faith in? I was hoping she'd be in ours," said Georgie, referring to Jake's new wife and reaching up to give him the appropriate cheek kiss. I gave him a look that said, don't even bother looking for a kiss from me, and he gave me a look back that said, as if I would.
"I don't know," he answered tightly. "I thought she'd be with me. Maybe I should go talk to Rachel," he said, turning away and pushing through the crowd now gathering around the stage as the groups filled up.
"Great. Thanks for that, Georgie," I said. "It wasn't awkward enough just with Jake. You had to ask for the wife to be part of the group too." I was going to add, and when did you become that close a friend with her, that you wanted her in your group? But I didn't. Jake and I were a long time ago. I had no reason for not wanting Georgie to be her friend.
"Sorry. I wasn't thinking."
"I wouldn't worry," said Matt, looking up from the notebook he'd been scribbling in. "Faith'll be cool with it." Yeah, maybe she would, but this wasn't about her, was it?
"Rachel has certainly gathered some interesting groups," commented Georgie, looking around the room. "There's a lot of history here, and I for one would have kept them apart. She could easily have reorganized them so people were with those they actually liked."
Invitation to Murder Page 2