Invitation to Murder

by Beth Prentice

  Sam's camera turned to me, and in the glow, I saw the faces of my group look back at me in horror. I reached up with my hand and touched my face. I heard Georgie's strangled scream as I felt the moisture on my fingers and held them out to the light, only to find they were now red with blood. My knees buckled as the nausea swirled in my stomach.

  "It's just a prop," said Sam. "It'll be part of the prank."

  "Really?" I croaked, my voice fleeing the crime scene, my stomach cramping involuntarily.

  "Of course it is. You don't think it's real, do you?"

  Judging by his tone, I think he believed it to be just as real as I did, but I clung to those words like they were gospel. Everyone else in the group remained silent. Jake stared at the scarf, his jaw hardening.

  Georgie put her hand on his arm. "Are you okay?" she asked.

  He turned to look at her, his mouth tight. "I don't know."

  "Do you think it's real?"

  "I just know I need to find her."

  I think everyone agreed with that sentiment.

  "And I need to get into that room."

  "Let's find Stuart and get him to open the door," said Sam.

  I shivered and wiped my face as best I could, using my jeans to dry my hands. I really didn't want that to be Faith's blood, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that if this was a prank then this old house would be the perfect place for Faith to hide. And if it wasn't a prank… Well, I didn't want to think about that.

  I felt the tears pool behind my lashes as goose bumps broke out all over me. I wanted to distance myself, get a drink stronger than cocoa, and let the boys do all the investigating from now on.

  Turning back to the hallway, Georgie opened the door as Sam's light illuminated a face staring back at us. Our screams drowned out the sound of the thunder that shook the walls.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  "Oh my God, Katie! You scared the shit out of us!" yelled Georgie, as Katie calmly looked back at us.

  "Well, I'm sorry. I never meant to. I was just looking for the dog," she explained.

  "What?"

  "The dog. I was looking for it. I saw it run over here, and when I saw the open door, I thought maybe it had come in here."

  "What dog?"

  "It's medium-sized, light brown, short hair. I don't know whose dog it is, but it's been hanging around the marquee. I think maybe it escaped from its home because of the storm and ran away. It looked scared and wet."

  My heart rate picked up again as I listened to her story. I hated the idea of a dog lost in a storm.

  "Well, sorry, it's not in here," explained Georgie.

  She moved forward, forcing Katie to back out of the hallway and onto the front veranda. Katie didn't look too happy about not being able to search the house, but I didn't think Georgie believed the story of the dog. I knew Georgie well enough to know she thought Katie was just being nosy.

  Thankfully, though, Katie didn't argue, and we all made our way out to the veranda, Matt carefully closing the front door behind us.

  "I don't know about the rest of you, but I never expected tonight to be so damned scary," I said quietly.

  "Me either. I thought it would be fun," replied Georgie, holding my arm and giving it a squeeze.

  "It is fun," said Sam, his smile back in place. "Except for Faith being missing, that is," he finished as he ran out into the rain and across the concrete back to the main building. Katie followed him, but she ran to the marquee.

  Lightning flashed. I counted the seconds before the thunder rumbled. Three seconds. Shit. That meant it wasn't very far away at all. I looked back at the old house, took a deep breath, and ran into the rain.

  We stopped to catch our breath in the hall outside the toilets. I shuddered.

  "I want to wash my face," I said, thinking of the blood-like liquid that had dripped from Faith's scarf. Stepping toward the toilets, I took a deep breath, my hand stopping on the door, refusing to push it open. Memories of Faith filled my vision, the nausea once again churning in my stomach.

  Georgie placed her hand on my shoulder.

  "Maybe I can use the men's toilet instead?"

  "That's disgusting," she said. "Come on. I'll come with you."

  I turned my head to look at Georgie, my heart beating erratically in my chest. Her eyes were filled with compassion as she placed her hand next to mine on the door and pushed it open.

  "We'll go and find Stuart," said Matt, watching Jake's back as he continued down the hall.

  "Oh…" I looked back at the door that Georgie had just pushed open. "Can one of you stay here? You know, just in case we need you."

  "Sure. Matt, you go with Jake. I'll wait for the girls," said Sam, reassuring me as I followed Georgie into the ladies'.

  The room was empty, but Georgie tentatively checked the cubicles just in case Faith had miraculously reappeared. I stood by the mirror and checked my reflection, barely recognizing the person who looked back at me. My complexion was pale, my eyes were huge, and red liquid dripped from my chin to my shirt.

  "Oh my God," I said, dropping my forehead into my shaking hands.

  "It's okay, Alex. Remember, it's fake."

  "Really? Do you really believe that?"

  "Yes. I bet Faith is hiding in that locked room and she just dropped her scarf on the way in."

  "But why would she do that?"

  "I'm sure Jake told her the two of you used to be a couple, so maybe she's just upset with you. We're all guilty of a little jealousy at times." Georgie sounded so convinced that Faith was still sweet and innocent.

  "But if that's true, she must have planned it all before tonight."

  "What do you mean?"

  "You didn't see her, Georgie. It looked real! If what you're saying is true, then she must have come here with fake blood and everything."

  "Look, I don't know Faith that well, but if she's doing this to sabotage you and your team, then she must have a good reason. Whatever that reason is, remember, Jake's production manager now, so she's spent a lot of time hanging around. She knows this place pretty well. And there are still plenty of props lying around waiting to be used. Remember the old vampire sitcom they made here? I bet the blood she used was left over from that. She'll be doing it to scare you, to give you a fright. But she obviously didn't think it through."

  I sighed. "I guess so, but how did she know I'd be the one to find her?"

  Georgie went quiet, thinking. "I bet she sent you that message."

  "That's pretty convenient though, isn't it? I mean, I wasn't asked to meet in the toilet. I just decided to pop in here before meeting whoever I was supposed to meet."

  Georgie sighed again. "I don't know, Alex. Let's just hope Dad unlocks that door and finds her inside—alive—and that she's done this as a prank."

  I straightened and turned back toward the mirror, turning the tap on as I did so. Except for the part where Georgie couldn't explain how Faith knew I'd find her, Georgie's theory sounded plausible, which gave me hope that what was dripping from my face to my shirt was corn syrup and food coloring.

  "What is that in your hair?" asked Georgie, pulling at strands of my hair as she spoke. Turning her hand around under the dim overhead bulb, colored light danced back at her.

  "I think it's glitter from the headband I got as team leader."

  Georgie laughed. "That's right. I forgot about that thing. Where is it anyway?"

  I shrugged. "I probably dropped it. Damned ugly thing it was."

  Wherever the headband went was the least of my worries.

  * * *

  By the time we emerged from the toilets, I felt a little bit better. At least my face was clean. Just not my jeans. Apparently blood—fake or otherwise—stained. Matt and Jake had disappeared completely. I figured they had found Stuart and had gone back to the old house. We just needed to wait and see what they found.

  Sam decided he needed to change batteries on his camera, so we followed him to the newsroom. Walking down the lo
ng hall past the studio, I looked at all the photos of the on-air staff. I stopped at Matt's photo and smiled. Matt was actually really good-looking, and I could see why he was popular on air. Seeing him in action tonight, I could understand why he was also a good reporter. Not much had escaped a mention in his notebook.

  The newsroom wasn't large—only holding six desks, all crammed close together and forming two perfect rows. Sam moved to the back of the room and took a minute to swap his battery.

  I used the time to have a look at Matt's notice board. My attention turned to the photo of a woman I knew. Her name was Stacey, and she was my dentist.

  A few weeks ago, she had gone missing from her workplace after all dental records had been erased from her computers. Her body had later turned up on the beach, a few body parts missing, presumably eaten by sharks.

  At the time, it was rumored she had destroyed the records and then killed herself by throwing herself into the ocean. That rumor stopped when police found out she was a volunteer lifeguard. Not only was she an exceptional swimmer, but she knew better than to go swimming in the ocean in her work clothes.

  "Hey, Sam, what's the latest on Stacey's case?" I asked, turning back to him.

  He stopped what he was doing and looked up at me, the overhead lighting causing his dark lashes to cast shadows on his cheeks. My stomach gave a little flip, apparently excited by that.

  "Umm… They believe she was murdered, but so far, there are no suspects."

  "How can that be? Surely they would have some suspects?"

  "None that they're telling us about," he replied, shrugging. "Matt's having lunch with Sergeant Ed Helms on Monday. Hopefully, he'll have some info he can share. There was something really weird going on there, though."

  "What do you mean?"

  "She had a drawing on her torso the coroner thought was done after her death."

  "How the hell does he know that?" asked Georgie.

  "Something to do with the skin and how it reacts." Sam shrugged.

  "Why would someone draw on her after they killed her?"

  "I have no idea, but the coroner, Bill Gamble, is really good and isn't known for getting things wrong."

  "What was the drawing of?" I asked, my skin crawling as Sam spoke.

  "A butterfly."

  I shuddered, thinking of the dead butterflies mailed to me in the invitation for this evening.

  "Did you know her?" asked Sam, his blue eyes filled with compassion as he gazed at me.

  "Yeah. It's just so sad."

  "There've been a few murders in Westport lately," continued Sam. "They found the body of a middle-aged man this morning. I had to take the photos. Police weren't saying much, but there were murmurs that it could be a serial killer on the loose."

  I heard Georgie suck in her breath. "What?"

  "Why do they think it's a serial killer?" I whispered, my heart missing a couple of beats.

  "The man they found had a dead butterfly stuck in his pocket."

  "Have they named him yet?"

  "Yeah, it was Dean-something," said Sam. He moved to Matt's computer and clicked a few keys. "Dean Jones," he said, looking up from the computer screen.

  I felt the world sway at his words. Dean Jones was my downstairs neighbor. He'd gone missing the same day Stacey was found dead. The same day my apartment had been broken into.

  "Where did they find him?" I asked, sitting down on a chair.

  "He was found in bushland near his home. Bill still has to do a complete autopsy, but he thinks Dean died from a blow to the head. Stacey's autopsy showed the same cause of death."

  "Oh my God," I said, sinking my head between my knees as my breath came in short, sharp spurts.

  "Alex, are you okay?" asked Sam.

  Georgie came around, crouched down, and put her arm around my shoulder, rubbing my back as she did so.

  "Dean was Alex's neighbor."

  "It…it… Dean…" I sucked in some air, trying to slow my breathing before I hyperventilated. "The butterfly was mine." I felt the tears sting my eyes as I blinked and sat up straighter. "I threw them on him."

  Sam looked back at me like I was crazy.

  "I didn't mean to," I explained. "The invitation I received for tonight contained ten butterflies. Nine were dead by the time I got the package, so I threw them over my balcony. Unfortunately, the wind picked up at that moment and blew them onto Dean, who was standing on his balcony below. I'm sure one of them just got stuck on his clothing."

  Sam grinned. "You threw dead butterflies all over your neighbor?"

  "It's not like I meant to do it!"

  "But Alex," said Georgie. "You told me the police found a box of dead butterflies in his apartment?"

  "Yeah, but he probably missed one of them."

  "I don't think so. This butterfly was deep in his pocket. And it doesn't explain why Stacey had one drawn on her wrist," said Sam.

  "It's probably just a coincidence."

  "Matt says there's no such thing as coincidence," said Sam.

  We were contemplating that as Matt and Jake walked into the room. They both looked at me, surprised.

  "What?" I asked.

  "You got here quickly," said Matt, frowning back at me. "How did you do that?"

  "What are you talking about?"

  "We just saw you out near your car."

  "I've been here the whole time," I explained.

  Matt looked at Jake. "It looked like you. You drive that yellow Mazda, right?"

  "Yeah, but there's another one the same as mine here tonight. Honestly, I never knew they were so popular."

  "But it was you getting into it. I was going to call to you, but the rain's coming down pretty hard. The storm's not far away."

  "Sorry, not me. I've been here the entire time."

  Matt shrugged, but confusion filled his eyes. At that moment, lightning struck somewhere close by, causing the building to shake as the thunder crashed through the night air. The lights flickered off, and we were plunged into darkness, the only noise was my heart beating loud in my ears.

  "Bloody storm," I heard Sam curse.

  His voice was reassuring as the hair on my neck stood to attention and my gypsy-like intuition told me to go home.

  Sam picked up his camera and shone the light around the room.

  "Did you find Stuart? Did he unlock that door for you?"

  "Yeah, we found Stuart, and he's going to have a look in that room for us. He had to check the generators first, and then he'll let me know what he finds."

  Jake's shoulders slumped.

  "I thought you were going with him?" I asked Jake.

  "I wanted to, but Matt said I would be more useful here. Stuart is apparently very capable of opening a room without me. If there's any sign of Faith at all, he'll let me know straight away."

  Jake didn't look happy about that decision, but I figured, on some level, he could see the logic behind it.

  "Did you check to see if your car is still there? Maybe Faith pulled the prank and went home," suggested Sam.

  "It's still there," said Jake, his voice void of emotion.

  "Someone didn't drop her home?"

  "Who knows?"

  "Sam, get away from the window, will you?" I begged as Sam stepped up to the window, watching lightning flash around us.

  "I thought I saw somebody looking in," he commented. In the glow from his camera, I could see his puzzled expression.

  "It's probably Stuart on his way to the generator."

  "No, that's out the back of the building."

  Matt moved to stand next to him at the window, looking out into the night lit only by flashes of lightning. "Only an idiot would go out in this," he said.

  "Yeah, I must have imagined it," said Sam, turning back to the room.

  "How long till the generators kick in?" I didn't like storms at the best of times, but with no power and uncertain about what really happened to Faith, it just felt really, really scary.

  "As soon as Stuart gets
out there and gets them running," explained Matt. "He was on his way to them when we left him, so it shouldn't be too long." He pulled his phone from his jeans pocket and switched on the flashlight. Using it, he scribbled some notes in a notebook, his face eerie in the glow.

  Thankfully, the lights didn't take long to come back on. Stuart had obviously gotten the generators going. I blinked as my eyes adjusted to the light.

  "I wonder if Wes got in contact with the police?" asked Georgie.

  Her complexion looked pale, and I had a feeling she just wanted to go home too.

  "Well, we can't do anything else, so maybe we should go look for him and find out," suggested Matt, pushing his notebook into the back pocket of his jeans. "There're a couple of questions I'd like to ask him anyway."

  Looking for Wes was actually a really good idea. Hopefully, we'd find the police, they would take control of the whole situation, and I could finally relax.

  Following him out the door, Georgie linked her arm through Jake's and put her head on his shoulder. We all needed to remember his wife was still missing.

  I said a silent prayer that she was okay and just being mean.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Wes no longer worked at the station, so he didn't have an office of his own. We thought he would probably be out in the marquee with Rachel. Heading in that direction and checking in a few offices along the way, we bumped into Sally coming in the back door near the toilets. She was wandering around on her own, looking wet and lost.

  "Hey, Sally. You haven't seen Wes, have you?" I asked, approaching her.

  "Wes? No, sorry," she replied. "Why do you want him?"

  "He was going to call the police about Faith, and we want to know what's happening."

  "You still haven't found her?"

  "No," said Jake, his jaw flexing.

  "Oh, I'm sorry, Jake. I'm sure she's okay though. This storm is pretty intense, so I reckon she's hiding somewhere and doesn't want to get her hair wet." Sally's expression was pained. I got the impression she really did feel for Jake. She was such a sweetheart.