I scoffed, even holding my hand over my heart for emphasis. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Mmhm,” she mumbled as she pulled away from me. “George, make sure Ruby gets a packet. She’s sure good at acting today.”
Had she not been my best friend and eighty-something years old, I would have flipped her off. Damn that, Anne. I couldn’t ever stay mad at her.
The rest of the attendees finally strolled into the dining hall, and by 7:30 P.M., George and I were standing in front of the room with two packets remaining.
“We need two more resident volunteers before we can start,” I said, waving the packets out in front of me like I was trying to auction them off.
The sea of residents stared at one another, waiting for someone else to volunteer. Out of twenty of them, there’d only been four volunteers so far: Anne, Sandy, Gertie, and Mr. Tennon. George would have volunteered, but he was out since he knew the plot.
“Seriously, someone has to volunteer or we’ll all just sit here,” I said, trying to get the ball rolling.
Sawyer glanced around the room before he finally shrugged and stood up.
“If it’s okay with everyone, I’ll play,” he said.
Anne clapped wildly, but no one else cared to comment as Sawyer stepped toward me.
“You should play, too,” he said with a devious smile as he slid the packet out of my hand.
I didn’t want to be a part of the murder mystery. I think I even specifically opted out of it on numerous occasions, but we were still down one player and if no one wanted to volunteer, I didn’t really have a choice.
I glanced around the room one more time, even holding eye contact with a few residents to make them squirm in their seats.
“Okay, fine, I’ll be the last person. Let’s do this,” I said, opening up my packet and peeking inside to find a script, a small description card, and a few props.
George clapped his hands and shouted, “Players, go read your cards and put on anything provided for you in your packet. We’ll meet back here in five minutes to start the game.”
As I made my way toward the bathroom, Sawyer caught up to me.
“Who are you?” he asked with a small smile.
“Detective Maverick,” I said, reading the front of the packet.
He nodded. “Apparently I’m Jim Fitzpatrick, the son of Gwyneth Fitzpatrick.”
I laughed at the silly expression he was making. “Thanks for volunteering by the way. I thought we were just going to sit there all night.”
“Yeah, no worries. I have a Halloween party to go to, but it doesn’t start until later,” he said with a shrug.
I thought about what I had planned for later. The options were: reading, watching a scary movie, and eating enough candy to go into a coma. I’d most likely do all of the above. Of course, I didn’t dare tell Sawyer that.
“Oh yeah, me too.” I nodded with what I hoped was a cool, nonchalant expression.
He smiled as we turned a corner toward the bathrooms near the dining hall. “Well then, let’s solve this mystery.”
Ten minutes later, the five of us were standing up at the front of the dining hall with our scripts in hand and our props attached to various parts of our bodies. George strolled across the stage in front of us, announcing the players to the crowd of on-lookers who would be helping us solve the mystery. I browsed over my script as he read aloud.
SETTING: An old estate in the heart of Savannah, Georgia.
THE PLAYERS
Gwyneth Fitzpatrick : An eighty-year-old woman who has oil money from generations past. She owns an estate in Savannah and has invited a few close friends over for a dinner party. She has two children, Jim and Hannah Fitzpatrick, who are both attending the party.
Gwyneth was played by Sandy in her latex Catwoman suit. Seemed appropriate.
Jim Fitzpatrick : Gwyneth’s eldest child. He’s a prominent lawyer in downtown Savannah. He was married to a young debutante when he was younger, but she died in a horrible lipstick accident the year before.
Jim was played by Sawyer. He still had his soccer jersey on, but now he’d added a cane, pipe, and monocle as well. Jim Fitzpatrick was apparently very stylish.
Hannah Fitzpatrick : Gwyneth’s youngest child. A struggling artist who doesn’t get along with her older brother. She has a lover named Antonio Ricardo.
Hannah was played by Anne, who was carrying a paint palette and a paint brush. She’d added a few streaks of paint to her hair which I thought was a cute touch.
Antonio Ricardo : Hannah Fitzpatrick’s lover. He’s a Latin underwear model currently between jobs. He’s never gotten along with Hannah’s brother, Jim.
Antonio was played by Mr. Tennon, who I knew from experience was probably sporting some whitey-tighties beneath his suspendered pants. Meow.
Izzie Jenkins : Gwyneth’s maid of ten years. She’s a young girl who grew up in a bad neighborhood in Savannah. Gwyneth took Izzie under her wing and provided her with a job when she had no other prospects.
Izzie was played by Gertie,who did not look pleased to be wearing a skimpy maid’s outfit over her pants and blouse. She had her arms crossed over her chest in an attempt to conceal the feather duster in her hand.
Detective Maverick : A no-nonsense Savannah police officer that has never had a case he couldn’t solve. He has a thick Scottish accent and a serious drinking problem.
Detective Maverick was played by me. That’s right. I opened up that packet to find a thick mustache stuck to a gold police badge, a pair of aviators, and some plastic handcuffs. I’d stood in the women’s bathroom after sticking the mustache on, trying to find any sort of humor in the entire situation. It was so thick, and brown, and did I mention thick? I waggled my eyebrows for emphasis. That’s right, Sawyer. I hope you like your girls with big ol’ mustaches. I’ll admit, once I put the aviators and badge on, I’d fallen into my character. Heck, I even started walking with a bit more swagger.
Anne couldn’t look at me without cracking up, but that might have been because I kept telling her she had the right to remain silent as we walked back to the dining hall.
“You look like an 80s porn star,” Gertie said to me with her lips pressed together and her head shaking back and forth.
I wanted to ask her how she knew what an 80s porn looked like, but Sawyer walked out of the bathroom right then and I didn’t think we were close enough yet for me to say the word “porn” in front of him. At least not while looking like a male porn star. That might have been overkill.
“Okay! Does everyone understand who is playing whom?” George asked, walking in front of us and going through the names again.
“I’m confused,” one resident said, raising his hand. “Why is Sandy in a cat woman outfit if she’s supposed to be hosting a dinner party?”
George crinkled his paper and squeezed his eyes shut.
“Yeah — this is confusing,” a few other residents chimed in until George had to go through and explain the scenario again to everyone.
“Pretend that everyone is in proper costume and that they aren’t your friends. They are now characters in a murder mystery.”