- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per week
- Online Availability
- I have a shifting work schedule, so My online times will be random.
- Writing Levels
- Adept
- Advanced
- Prestige
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- No Preferences
- Genres
- Fantasy, scifi, futuristic modern, fantasy modern, Action/adventure, Mystery, Fan-based,
[bg=#202020]1:00 a.m.[/bg]
The Fairview city chief of police sighed and ran both hands through his thinning hair. He felt like hitting his head against a wall, repeatedly. His jail was full tonight, and not with the usual thugs and Friday evening drunks. No, the patrons who currently occupied the cell block were none other than the costumed party guests of the woman commonly known around town as the mysterious owner of the house on Monarch drive. No one had ever even seen the woman; all business was done with the live in cook and housekeeper, Widow Jennings.
"Is Mrs. Jennings all right?" the chief sighed trying desperately to keep his temper.
"Shaken up, but physically unharmed." A reedy detective answered in a rush. "She was hysterical when we finally got to the house, and she insisted on not staying there alone, which quite frankly I don't blame her."
"Has she been able to provide any informa—"
"Well, no," the detective interrupted, "but we've got all the others. I reckon if we interrogate them each separately so they can't keep talking over each other like they have been doing—"
"Bring Mrs. Jennings in here." The chief grunted. "I need to hear how things started. And bring her a cup of coffee or tea or something . . . poor woman."
[bg=#202020]5:00 p.m. - The night before.[/bg]
The afternoon was cold and foggy as the elderly woman known as Sarah Jennings waddled about the dining area, putting the last touches on the various trays of finger food that would stand in place of dinner. Each tray had its own place in the buffet line set up in the dinning room and there would be more than enough food for all the guests to eat their fill. Mrs. Jennings prided herself on her hospitality. Someone had to be hospitable, the other woman in the house was somewhat on the antisocial side.
Still, the poor widow gladly performed the job she had to do that night. It wasn't often she got entertainment such as this. A moment later the house other human occupant bustled into the room draped in chocolate and ocher satin, a little top hat pinned jauntily on top the false, brunette curls of her wig. A fitting costume, Irene Adler, on so many levels.
"Mrs. Jennings," The woman paused eyes an empty spot among the desserts on the table, "What happened to the double layered chocolate fudge cake? That was on the menu was it not?"
"Oh don't worry, Madam." Widow Jennings tittered back, "There was just a bit of a brewha with one of the new bakery boys. They should be finished any moment now, and when I'm done with these garnishes I'll just pop down to Fairview and get it. I'll be back before any of the guests even decide they want dessert."
"All right, all right. I suppose I can handle them on my own for a bit."
"Of course you can dearie," Widow Jennings carefully placed the last bit of parsley, wiped her hands on her apron and preceded the other woman into the kitchen. The old woman's eyes didn't miss the way the younger one's hand clenched in her skirt for a moment. "I'll be back as quickly as possible. You just do what you need to do, Madam."
"Mrs. Jennings, it is Lady Beryl tonight."
"Of course it is." The elderly woman was gone a minute later, cell phone, oversized bag, and keys in hand. As the little white Subaru puttered down the drive the first drops of rain began to fall.
[bg=#202020]5:15 p.m.[/bg]
The doorbell rang, heralding the arrival of the first guest.
Gathering her skirts in hand, Lady Beryl swung the door wide, a broad smile plastered across her freckled face.
"Welcome, welcome, do come in!"