Invitation to Murder

by Beth Prentice

  "Yeah, but Rachel was always a troublemaker," I said, a feeling of unease causing my skin to crawl. "She likes drama."

  "I think she'll get what she wants then." Georgie sighed.

  I stood chewing my thumb as Georgie turned to a member of her group and asked about her family.

  My thoughts drifted to Jake. We met when I first started working at the station, and it didn't take him long to ask me out. He was my first real love and definitely the first one I'd been past first base with. We were together for three years and only split just after I'd been made redundant. He gave me no explanation as to why, only saying he wasn't able to commit to me the way I wanted. Whatever that meant.

  I sighed and looked at the people around me, my thoughts moving to Georgie's assumption that Rachel was looking for trouble. She was right. I could already feel the tension in the groups. The more I looked around, the more I realized these groups had been carefully handpicked, and the more the feeling of unease prickled my skin.

  It was only when Jake walked back toward me that I pulled my attention back to my own group. Jake was accompanied by Rachel and another woman I assumed to be his wife. I gulped as I took her in. This woman was stunning. Her ridiculously shiny blonde hair shimmered under the lights, her green-blue eyes sparkled, and her sexy curves made me feel very beige.

  "Sorry, guys," smiled Rachel. "You're going to get an extra team member. I forgot to put poor Faith's name on your list, Alex. I hope you don't mind having her in your group?" she asked me sweetly.

  I saw the challenge in her eyes. "Not at all," I replied cheerily.

  If Rachel wanted drama, she wasn't getting it from me. Faith smiled a super-white smile and fluttered her eyelashes innocently. I looked at Jake and wondered if she knew our history. As she looped her arm through his, claiming her stake, I figured the answer was yes, she did know.

  "Excellent. I'll leave you to it then." With that, Rachel flicked her hair over her shoulder and turned on her heel, ready to face the next unhappy coworker, sideswiping Georgie as she went.

  I looked at Faith awkwardly. She wore three-inch spiked heels that made her stand a few inches shorter than Jake. Her skinny jeans molded her body perfectly. Her black top floated about her dreamily showing just enough cleavage, and her green silk scarf accented the color of her eyes.

  Damn Jake. Why couldn't he have married an ugly woman? If not ugly, then just not one quite so gorgeous. I sighed as she smiled triumphantly back at me. There was something familiar about her. I have a really good memory for faces, just not a very good memory for how I knew the face. This time was no different, apparently.

  "Well, this is fun!" said Sam, returning with the camera firmly pointed at me.

  I looked away from Faith to Sam as he spoke. Even though his face was covered by the camera, I could see his firm stomach as his T-shirt lifted above the waistband of his jeans when he held the camera on his shoulder. I may also have noticed the soft patch of hair on his stomach move its way into the top of those jeans as they sat low on his hips and showed the perfect V-shaped muscle and glistening, smooth golden skin. The saliva in my mouth dried up as it hung open, and all thoughts of Jake and Faith fled from my mind.

  It was only as he lowered the camera that I realized he'd probably caught me perving on him on video. Shit.

  I cleared my throat and brought my mind back out of the gutter.

  "Umm… I can think of better ways of having fun," I said.

  "Me too!" He smiled. I felt the blush race up my neck and stop at my ears. Thankfully, I was saved from responding as the speakers came to life once more, and Rachel's voice boomed out across the room.

  "Now that we all are in our groups, it's time for the rules!" she sang. "Team leaders, you should have your tools with you," she said.

  I looked at Jake. "Yep, got one tool right here," I commented. He scowled back at me.

  "Okay, now the first rule is the team must stay together! If you're not all together at the end, you cannot win the game!"

  "What do we win?" I heard someone yell.

  Rachel smiled a very sly smile. "You'll have to wait and see, but I guarantee you, it's worth the wait!"

  It had better be. I looked at Jake as Faith held possessively tight to his arm. "How long have they been married?" I asked Georgie quietly.

  "Ummm…about a year, but they've known each other for a long time." Georgie squirmed uncomfortably. She knew more than she was letting on.

  "Rule number two!" called Rachel, interrupting us before I could question Georgie further. "You'll also get bonus points if you photograph your opposition being sabotaged!"

  Great. This sounded like a fun game, didn't it?

  "Spying on your opposition may also help you solve your clues quicker as they may have figured out something that you missed!"

  I heard the excitement go around the room as people were already pulling out their smartphones and taking happy snaps.

  "Why did I have to be leader?" I asked. I sucked at puzzles, and nobody wanted to be with me when I was trying to read a map.

  "Because you've got the headband," laughed Sam.

  Crap. I'd forgotten about that thing. I snatched it off my head and smoothed my hair down as I looked at Faith and noticed her snigger. Maybe her personality wasn't quite as gorgeous as her exterior.

  "Now, everyone grab yourself a drink and hope it's not one of you who's murdered!" Rachel raised her glass to the room and chugged back what was left in it.

  CHAPTER THREE

  It wasn't much longer before we heard the fake scream alerting us to the fact that a body had been found.

  Indeed, on closer inspection, it was Rachel who we found on the floor, fake blood pouring from the cut across her throat. Hmm, if this were a real murder, I didn't know who my most likely candidate for bad guy would have been.

  One by one, our teams were allowed to get closer to her to inspect the body and the crime scene. It appeared Rachel's fake death involved a lot of fake blood. Fake or not, it made my stomach churn, and the possibility of passing out became a real one. So, I did what any good leader would do. I delegated.

  Thankfully, Matt and Jake didn't share the same phobia I did and happily stepped up to check her body. Sam stood back and filmed the entire thing in case we needed to double-check anything later on.

  I did notice a few of the other groups admiring this technique as they pulled out their smartphones and switched them to video. Faith stood next to me, probably feeling the same way I did about the blood.

  As we stepped away to allow Brent's team their turn, Matt opened his notepad and scribbled a few things down. I looked over his shoulder to see what he had written. God, he smelled good.

  "Wes's wife, Kelly, found the body, so she's top of the list for me," he said, showing me his notebook. I shook my head to clear my senses and read his list.

  "Wow. You've got quite a few names on there already."

  "Well, on this list," he said, flipping the page backward in the notebook, "I've listed the names of everyone I could recall being in the room with us in the time between Rachel leaving the room and when her body was found. And this list," he said, returning to the original page, "is the list of everyone else."

  Wow, was I lucky Matt was in my group. He was super-cute and intelligent.

  "But what motive would Kelly have for murdering her?"

  "Wes and Rachel seemed pretty cozy up on the stage when the envelopes were being handed out. I was at the bar at the time, and Kelly definitely didn't seem impressed."

  "I don't think that was for the show," commented Sam. "Rumors are Wes and Rachel had an affair."

  "What?" I asked, shocked. "No way. Surely he wouldn't do that?" Wes was a really nice guy, and even though age seemed to have been reasonably kind to him, he did have a noticeably receding hairline and a fairly round tummy. He just didn't seem like Rachel's type.

  "It was a long time ago now, and apparently Wes patched things up with Kelly."

  "I thought Rac
hel had the affair with Marty," said Matt.

  "She did. Wes was before Marty."

  "Geez, Rachel was a busy girl," I said.

  "You don't know the half of it," finished Sam. "She had an affair with just about everyone. Male and female!"

  "Really?" I asked, shocked at the revelation. "How do you both know all of this?"

  Sam smiled a really wicked smile, and I felt my heart miss a beat. "Matt is a really excellent reporter. He investigates everything."

  "Georgie told us," said Matt, correcting Sam.

  "Don't give all our secrets away," chastised Sam, playfully. "We want Alex to think we're super-smart and awesome. And by the way, I never slept with Rachel," he added.

  Good to know.

  "Me either," said Matt. "Until they organized this reunion, I'd never even met her."

  Jake remained silent. Did he have a history with Rachel I didn't know about? Faith glared at him, obviously wondering the same thing. Minutes later, I heard her mumble some sharp words in his ear, but he still remained silent. I figured he'd pay for that at some point in time.

  Brent's team pushed past us, moved through the door and out of the studio, following their first clue.

  "I think we should start in Bernie's office," said Matt.

  Bernie was—and still is—the station manager. "Really? Why?" I asked, surprised.

  "I believe she was killed by having her throat cut with a broken bottle, specifically a Scotch bottle. Tonight's makeshift bar didn't serve spirits. It only served beer and wine, but I know Bernie keeps the best Scotch in his office. I reckon we should start there and see if we can find any clues."

  Bernie having Scotch in his office didn't surprise me, but the fact that Matt had figured that out just by looking at Rachel did.

  "How do you know that's how she fake-died?"

  "Well, the wounds she sustained looked like the murder weapon was blunt and uneven. I'm no expert on forensics or anything, but I've seen a few crimes scenes, and to me, it definitely looked like it was done by a broken bottle. And she smelled of Scotch, so my guess is the bottle would have held Scotch."

  "I don't think the smell came from the murder weapon," said Sam, grinning.

  "You figured all that out just by looking at her?" I asked, completely impressed.

  "Nah, I had a tip-off about the murder weapon," said Matt, touching his nose to indicate this was all very Secret Squirrel stuff only reporters could know about, and gave me a wink.

  "Who gave you the tip-off?" I asked anyway.

  "Can't say."

  Oh well, no harm in asking, right? "So Bernie's office, hey? Sam, lead the way!"

  * * *

  The layout of the station building was pretty simple even though it was extremely large. On the ground floor was the studio we'd been in, various offices, including Bernie's, an old storage room that once upon a time held all the dubs, a boardroom, the newsroom, a reception area, and the toilets. Oh, there was also a small storage room hidden under a flight of stairs. Three staircases headed up. We ignored all of it as we moved down the hall, past the reception desk, and toward Bernie's office.

  I'd only ever had the opportunity to be in this office once before, and even though I no longer worked here, I still felt intimidated walking into it. The room was large and imposing, and his furniture was oversized and made of dark timber. Some might have said he had a Napoleon complex, and some might have been right, but I would never have said that to his face.

  To be honest, I was surprised that Rachel had gotten away with this room being included in tonight's events. Then again, with the information Sam had shared about her bedroom activities, maybe she'd pulled in some favors. Or maybe we were completely wrong in our sleuthing and shouldn't be in here at all, but hey, I didn't work here anymore.

  I stood at the door as Matt moved into the office followed by Sam and Jake. Faith had joined Georgie and headed in the opposite direction from us, saying she needed a quick stop at the ladies' toilets. Personally, I thought she was sulking after the lovers' tiff I'd overheard in the studio between her and Jake, but I was definitely not getting involved. Between you and me, though, I thought the point she made to Jake about remaining quiet on the whole Rachel business was actually spot on. I, too, would have wanted an answer as to whether or not he'd ever slept with her.

  Matt opened the mahogany door on the cabinetry running the length of the back wall, and I heard the appropriate gasps of admiration from the boys when they saw the interior of it. Not only did it hold a fully stocked refrigerator, it also contained bottles of bourbon, rum, and gin. And that was only naming the bottles I recognized.

  Sam let out a long, low whistle. "And I always thought his secretary was his favorite part of the job."

  "That's a lot of alcohol," I said. "But how do we know if it's what we are looking for?" As I spoke, a flash lit the window behind me. The storm was moving in.

  "Whoa!" jumped Sam, moving closer.

  He looked down at me and grinned, and I figured he wasn't really scared of a storm. As he grabbed my arm, my stomach flipped, but I told myself it was maybe because I was a little bit scared of storms and had nothing to do with Sam's smile. Or the fact that my skin tingled under his touch.

  "The storm's ages away," said Jake. "Count the seconds between the lightning and thunder, and you'll know how far away it is."

  Right on cue, the thunder rumbled, and the walls of the office trembled. I didn't have to count the seconds to know it was still a long way off. Sam moved to sit in Bernie's desk chair, wiggled the mouse backward and forward, and the computer came to life.

  "What are you doing?" I asked, my heart missing another beat.

  "Browsing," replied Sam, his cheeky grin firmly in place.

  Matt turned to look at him. "You know the password to Bernie's computer?" he asked, impressed.

  "Yeah, I was in here with him one day when he entered it. It didn't take a genius to figure out it was his wife's name."

  Sam gestured to an ugly crystal photo frame containing a happy snap of Bernie's family, his wife smiling, holding center stage. I'd never met his family, but I had to admit they were a good-looking bunch. They obviously got their looks from their mother.

  "Sam, you can't just snoop around someone's computer like that," I said, feeling really uneasy.

  "Well, technically the computer belongs to the station, so Bernie shouldn't have anything personal on it."

  "No, but it might have some classified information on there you're not supposed to know about."

  "This isn't the FBI," said Sam, his dimple flashing as he spoke. "Anyway, Rachel said we were supposed to spy on our opposition."

  "Bernie's not our opposition. He's not even here tonight," I added.

  "Yes, he is," added Jake. "I saw him earlier. He was talking to Rachel."

  "Really? The website set up for the reunion said he wasn't coming."

  "Well, he was definitely here."

  Hmmm, that was odd. "I even remember Wes telling me he wasn't coming," I insisted. "I specifically asked because I was intending to avoid him if he were here. If his breath smells as bad as it used to, then I didn't want to get stuck talking to him."

  "It's okay, Alex. Relax. He's not even going to know I've been looking around," said Sam, clicking the mouse a few times and studying the screen. "I only want to see if he Googles porn throughout the day."

  I scoffed. "Nobody does that!"

  "Sure they do. Look, right here," said Sam, swiveling the screen to show me. "Right there—Some Like It Hot. Porn." Sam was flipping through the history on Bernie's computer.

  "That's a movie," I added.

  "Oh," replied Sam, disappointed.

  "What's that site?" asked Jake, leaning over Sam's shoulder, obviously as interested in Bernie's internet surfing as Sam was.

  "Let's click on it and find out." Within seconds, the screen was filled with a betting site.

  Matt whistled. "He's doing that on company time?" he asked.

 
; "Seems that way."

  "Well, I guess it's really none of our business," I said, wanting to get out of there before Bernie appeared. Sweat broke out on my upper lip as fear rolled in my stomach. I figured I wasn't cut out for snooping.

  "See if you can open his betting account," said Matt.

  "Matt! You can't do that!"

  "I'm not going to do anything with it. I just want to check out a couple of things."

  It appeared it didn't matter what I said, the boys did what they wanted to anyway. Within seconds, they were all looking at each other seriously, and Matt was scribbling in his notebook. Jake was pointing to something on the screen, and Sam was clicking on whatever he was pointing to. I sat down on the opposite side of the desk from them, not wanting any part of it.

  Bernie's desk was open to me, and I could see Sam's long legs stretched out close to mine. I was distracting myself from what they were doing by admiring his athletic muscles pulling against the fabric of his jeans, when I noticed something on the floor, stuck between the desk and the paper shredder. I knelt down and crawled under the desk to retrieve it. It was a piece of paper that seemed to have missed the shredder.

  Sam popped his head under the desk. "Look, Alex, I'm flattered, but maybe another time would be more appropriate."

  His grin spread from ear to ear. Matt roared with laughter. I didn't know what Jake did as my head was under the desk only inches away from Sam's legs.

  It took me a moment to realize what Sam was talking about, but when I caught up, my face was so hot from embarrassment I thought I might just self-combust. I quickly got myself back to the chair.

  "No! That… That's not what I was doing," I stuttered.

  Sam's laugh erupted, deep and masculine. Jake scowled at him, and for the first time tonight, I appreciated him.

  "I was just picking this up," I finished quietly.

  "Sorry, Alex. I know what you were doing. I just couldn't resist teasing you." Sam's smile faded. Maybe he realized how embarrassed I was. "What is that?"