Miles chuckled as he rolled out from under me and pulled me up from the bed. “Don’t think you’re off the hook, Miss Summers. I’ll get you, my pretty.”
“And my little pussy, too,” I cackled as we left the room to join the other guests.
Chapter 5
Miles and I walked down the wooden staircase met Ryan and Tom at the bottom. Ryan look devilishly handsome as always, reminding me of the time I hit on him and subsequently found out he was gay. The dark jeans and V-neck sweater did it for me every time. Tom had a few years on Ryan when it came to age and was starting to gray at the temples. He said Ryan was making him go gray from all the shit he caused, like leaving dirty dishes out on the table.
When Miles and I approached them, they were still amid the argument from the car.
“I told you we should have turned at Spruce Street, but you insisted on going straight. And now we’re late.” Tom huffed.
“I would never insist on anyone going straight,” Ryan said, winking.
“If you kept your damn hands out of my crotch then I could have paid attention to the damn road.”
“Right. ‘Please don’t give me a hand job’ said no man ever,” Ryan said in a mocking voice.
“I don’t like to do shit like that in the car. It makes a mess everywhere,” Tom continued to argue.
“Ah yes, how can I forget my OCD boyfriend and his frantic need to keep everything in order.”
Ryan turned to Miles and I. “I would have taken it in the mouth anyway.”
Miles coughed at Ryan’s statement. “Okay, then. On that happy note, let’s we meet Raj and Renee in the sitting room.
“Good, I need a drink.” Ryan sped past Miles and I into the sitting room.
I whispered close to Miles, “Seems like everything isn’t kosher under the rainbow.”
“Seems to be a love-hate relationship,” he said.
“Yeah, Ryan loves Tom, and Tom hates all the crumbs Ryan makes.” I laughed.
In the sitting room Sean and Marie served wine and appetizers, and my heart started to pound and I started to shake.
“Moxie, what’s wrong?”
“Oh, she’s fine,” Renee said. “When she gets into a room full of appetizers, she goes into a seizure-like state because she doesn’t know which one to try first.”
“It’s just so… overwhelming. Pigs in blankets, assorted cheese. Is that a relish tray? Get the defibrillator, stat!”
“We always said if we quit teaching, we would start a restaurant that only served appetizers. We’d call it Appiteasers,” Renee continued.
“Can you imagine? A restaurant that had jalapeño poppers, egg rolls, and spinach artichoke dip? It’s like an orgasmic smorgasbord,” I added.
The doorbell rang, and we all looked toward the entryway as Sean moved to open the door.
“Welcome!” Sean greeted the new guests. “You’re just in time to mingle.”
A woman missing ninety percent of her clothing and didn’t look a day over twelve walked in. She wore booty shorts, although they showed more booty then shorts. On top of her nice-sized breast she wore a Clash T-shirt under a leather motorcycle jacket. The outfit was completed by cowboy boots and a straw cowboy hat. She had, from what I could tell, dark brown hair that lightened to blond at the tips.
Next to her was, what I assumed, her date for the weekend. He looked like he’d just crawled out of the cradle too. He wore a wife-beater and jeans that sagged way past his ass. He was probably five eleven and wore a White Sox hat with the shiny MBL sticker firmly attached to the visor.
“I didn’t realize we were babysitting this weekend,” I whispered to Renee.
“If I ever have a daughter walk out of the house looking like that, I’ll shoot her.”
“It will be too late because I would have already shot you for raising a daughter like that. That would be something from my loins, not yours.”
I peeked at Miles to see if he was enjoying the bootyful view, but he was deeply engrossed in conversation with Raj about the Cubs. Good man I had there.
Sean walked over with our newest guest. “Everyone, I would like to introduce Destiny and Sam.”
All six of us waved to our new arrivals as the doorbell rang once again.
“That must be our last arrival, excuse me,” Sean said as he darted back to open the door.
Meanwhile Sam left Destiny’s side and sauntered up to me. “Hey, I’m Sam. And what is your name, fair maiden.”
I looked around to see if there was a girl dressed in a princess costume with one of those tall cone hats and streamers coming out. But Sam’s gaze was directed at me.
“I’m taken,” I said with a rush.
“I would only assume,” he said with a wink.
“My boyfriend Miles is over there talking with the British Indian guy. He’s very tall and fierce. Oh, and he’s territorial. Likes to mark me with pee and all,” I added. I usually didn’t get nervous around anyone, unless they were threatening to discontinue Snicker bars, but there was something about Sam that made my skin crawl. Maybe it was because he looked like he hadn’t washed his hair since the extinction of the dinosaurs.
“Mmm, kinky. I like it.”
“Umm, isn’t that you’re girlfriend.” I pointed to Destiny.
“We don’t use labels. We are always opened to new adventures,” he said, eyeing me as if I were a piece of prime rib and he were a lion.
“Yo, dipshit,” Destiny called to Sam. “Stop waving your dick around and help me get the bags upstairs.”
“Dipshit is her nickname for me,” he said, giving me a toothy grin. He did a full body scan of me before helping Destiny carry their stuff to their room.
Renee looked at me, “What was that?”
“That was an uncomfortable moment.”
“Kind of like when you have to take a crap and the only place around is McDonald’s? And then you plug up the toilet and don’t tell anyone because you’re utterly embarrassed?”
I turned to her. “Did that happen?”
“Totally hypothetical,” she replied.
“Well, howdy, y’all!”
Renee and I turned our attention to our newest arrivals. A stunning raven-haired beauty came prancing into the room. She was dressed in a cream, silk shirt that was buttoned low showing her ta-tas, which were too perky to be considered natural. This was paired with black straight-leg pants and fuck-me shoes. That wasn’t what caught my eye, though. This woman was dripping in jewels. I had to snap my mouth shut because my mouth hung open so big I could have caught hundreds flies in it. I seriously considered getting my sunglasses because all her bling was making my eyes hurt.
Walking in behind her was a white-haired man who had to be double, if not triple her age. He was dressed in a tweed sports coat, slacks, and white button down shirt. He too had a very interesting accessory: something that looked like a furball a cat threw up. The object moved in the man’s arms and let out a bark, which sounded more like a shriek. Fantastic!
“I’m Debbie and this is my husband, Bob.” Then Debbie reached toward Bob’s arms and pulled the rugrat into her arms. “And this is Ruby, our shih-poo.”
I will not comment, I will not comment, I chanted to myself. But Renee had it covered for me.
“What’s a shih-poo?” Renee tilted her head and scratched her chin in confusion.
“It’s a shih tzu poodle mix,” Debbie said with a very strong southern drawl.
“I thought that was something that happened after you eat a lot of Arby’s in on sitting,” I muttered to Renee.
Miles, Raj, and a now harmonious Tom and Ryan joined in our small gathering and offered introductions since I seemed to be focused on Debbie’s assortment of fine gems.
“Hi, I’m Miles. This is my girlfriend Moxie and our friend Renee, Raj, Tom, and Ryan.”
“Well it’s a pleasure to meet y’all.”
“I like your puppy,” I said, reaching to pet the ball of fur. But the crapper growled and bare
d its teeth.
“Oh, Ruby. Stop that nonsense,” Bob scolded from behind is wife and placed his hands on her shoulders. “He’s very sweet, just a little territorial when it comes to my Debbie.”
“You’ve got quite the southern drawl. I can’t imagine you’d be from anywhere around here,” Ryan said.
“Oh no.” Bob shook his head. “We’re from Dallas. I own several farms up in this area, and we heard about this adventure and thought it would be fun. It’s nice to get out amongst every day folk instead of dealing with the old fuddy-duddies of the cooperate world.”
Again, I leaned into Renee and whispered, “Do I make the joke about Debbie Does Dallas first or the one where Bob is an old fuddy-duddy?”
She elbowed me in the side and gave me a sideways dirty look. Sam and Destiny came down looking disheveled and joined the rest of the party. Sam entered the room and threw me a wink while adjusting himself. The thought of Sam and Destiny having a quickie upstairs was enough for me to toss up the appetizers I had eaten.
The group mingled for a bit, and I was able to get some information out of our new guests. Bob owned a large cattle ranch in Texas and sold a lot of cattle to dairy farms around the county, hence his business here in Wisconsin. Debbie was thirty-three years his junior and did charity work. Basically he needed some hot tail, and she needed his finances to fund her Liz Taylor Diamond collection. Apparently Rudy went everywhere they went, and I wondered if the dog even had legs because Debbie hadn’t put him down on the floor even once. At one point, Ruby and I had a stare down over the last pig in a blanket. I won because, frankly, I was human and could squash that piece of shih-poo with my toe.
And then there was Sam and Destiny. Destiny was a twenty-year-old exotic dancer studying to become a licensed masseuse. Sam was a twenty-three-year-old guy. He seemed to be lost and searching, which was a nice way of saying he was unemployed. When I asked what he was looking to do, he answered. “Grow weed.” Ding, ding, ding! I do believe we have a winner here folks.
Sean and Marie made it back into the sitting room with a cluster of paperwork. “First, Marie and I would like to thank everyone for joining us on this very mysterious Halloween weekend. We have the characters you will be playing in the murder mystery game. Each of you will get your identity and some background information about your characters. We will give you some time to become familiar with your characters before continuing. The theme for the mysterious murder weekend is High School Reunion.”
Oh. Dear. God. To say I hated high school would be a lie. I flat out loathed it. I was the chubby redhead with enough metal in my mouth to conduct electricity. The fact that I had to reenact any part of that time in my life caused a plethora of angst. A knot formed in my stomach and the room started to spin.
“I wish I’d known you in high school,” Miles said, looking at the mixture of emotions on my face.
“Why is that? Did you need someone to stand on your roof to get a better TV signal?”
“What?”
“I had a mouth full of braces and was teased constantly.”
“I was thinking more like stealing you away underneath the football bleachers and devouring you between your legs.”
I gave him a wry smile. “While it sounds nice, I wouldn’t have been able to return the favor. Unless you wanted your penis torn apart like paper going through a shredder.”
“Well, thank God for present day and straight teeth.” He chuckled.
“Moxie and Miles, here are your characters.” Sean handed each of us our packets. Characters were designed around the questionnaire you filled out.”
I opened the manila envelope and pulled out the contents. I was not surprised at what the paperwork revealed.
Your character for the high school murder mystery is… The Punk.
Chapter 6
I’m the fucking punk. I’m not surprised considering what I wrote in my questionnaire. I was totally assholish when filling it out. They probably figured I was aiming for the misfit of the group. Instead of being annoyed, I would embrace my inner punk. But there are different kinds of punk. Did I want to be the rocker punk and spike up my hair? Or the Goth chick in an all-black wardrobe? Wearing black was slimming. Each of our packets came with character descriptions, so I flipped through mine to decipher how I should make my character.
The Punk
Every high school had that one person who would not conform to the rules. You were the person who picked fights and made sure everyone in the room knew who you were. Your body was adorned with earrings, tattoos, and multi-colored hair. If anyone told you to do something, you did exactly the opposite. Your reason for attending the high school reunion? To make sure everyone still knew who you were and, after all the years that passed, you were still living a non-conforming lifestyle.
My translation of the description: Be an asshole. It was something I could manage. I strode over to Miles to get a peek at his character. My guess—the guy who everyone tried to get into every girls’ pants.
“So, what did you get? Strong, attractive teen with no acne and a constant raging boner?”
“Close enough; I got the high school jock.”
“Surprise, surprise,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“And you?”
I slouched and bowed my head. It was my own fault, considering I’d been such a pain in the ass I filled out that questionnaire.
“I got the school punk.”
Miles roared with laughter. “I’m shocked.”
I slugged Miles arm and he took a step back, covering his mouth to hide his continued laughter.
“Yeah, well that’s what happens when you fill out the questionnaire like a two-year-old.”
Raj and Renee walked over to us after they saw Miles laughing.
“So what about you two?” I uncrossed my arms and pointed to Renee.
“I’m the captain of the pom-pom squad!” Renee kicked a leg into the air a demonstrated fake cheer face.”
“I’m the bloody class president.” Raj huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.
I snorted. “A bit of an overachiever, are we?”
“Why couldn’t I be the football star or something.” He threw his head back and sighed.
“For some reason I can’t see an Indian guy being the captain of the football team. Maybe the math team. Or the president of outsourcing.” I pretended to type into an imaginary computer.
“Bugger off. When said football, I was talking about what you Americans refer to a soccer.” He tried to look angry, but had difficulty hiding his smile.
I tuned back to Miles. “So, what does you’re description say?”
He handed me his card, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes when reading description.
The Jock
As the class jock you were well-known and liked by everyone in the school because of your good looks and athletic abilities. You had a string of relationships in your senior year, but ended up falling in love with the head cheerleader. The two of you married, and you got a full football scholarship to the college of your choice, but injured your knee during a game and lost your scholarship. You went through a deep depression and reconnected with the captain of the pom-pom squad from high school. The two of you had an affair, which your wife doesn’t know about. Since your knee injury, you attended a community college and now work as a Phys Ed. teacher at the same high school you were once a star at.
“Oh my God, you’re a manwhore!” I bent over, slapped my knee, and started laughing.
“I was not a manwhore. It was the depression and injury which lead me astray from my beloved wife. Who knows, maybe I was addicted to pain pills and thought I was sticking it in my wife instead of the pom-pom girl.”
“Eww! In my character description it said you and I had an affair.” Renee shivered and scrunched up her face as if she’d just tasted something sour.
“Excuse me, that’s my man you’re saying ‘eww’ about. That’s eight plus inches you’re shuddering over.”
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“Aww, sweetness. Except it’s more like ten plus inches,” he said with a devilish grin.
“It’s about to become a one-inch nub if you don’t wipe that stupid smirk from your face,” I made a saw and cutting board motion with my hands.
Miles leaned into me and whispered in my ear, “But then how would I be able to satisfy that beautiful pussy of yours with only a nub?”
I smiled. “That’s why God gave you a tongue.”
“Saucy wench.” Miles smacked my ass.
“Excuse me, sex fiends. Can we get back to the game here?” Renee interrupted.
I heard arguing and turned to Ryan and Tom in the corner, waving their cards in each other’s faces.
“Uh oh, looks like I need to perform quality control,” I said to Miles.
I walked up to the sparring couple. “Hey, love birds, whatcha get?”
Tom huffed. “I got the chess and math club president, and Ryan got the newspaper editor.”
“So, what’s wrong with that?”
“Clearly, I’m more suited to work as an editor of the newspaper and I hate chess,” Tom said.
“Don’t you mean you hate chest… like boobs… you know, cause you’re gay?” I laughed.
Both Tom and Ryan looked at me with growing irritation.
“Okay, then. I’m butting out now. I’m going to hide in my hole now,” I said, slinking away.
“What has their jock straps in a bunch?” Renee stood next to me, pointing her chin in Ryan and Tom’s direction.
“A lover’s quarrel. One wanted to be homecoming queen and the other the beauty school dropout,” I said.
Renee giggled just as Sean clapped for our attention.
“I believe everyone has their character cards and had had a chance to review them. Why don’t we go around the room and say who our characters are and how they related to the murder. Bob, I believe we need to start with you.”
Bob looked at his card. “I’m Bob and I was the AV guy in high school. I went on to become a high-profile director. I’m the one being murdered.” Bob read the card without enthusiasm.
Renee and I couldn’t contain our chuckles. It was a slightly cliché that Bob was being the one murdered considering he was the oldest person in the room. Sean and Marie probably just looked at his age on the questionnaire and stereotyped him for the role.