Everyone turned. Even Juniper, who was being coaxed by Ruby out of her chair, turned to see what Gavin had found on the floor of the kitchen. A doll. It was one of those jiggling, wiggling baby dolls that children loved to cradle, and there was a tray in front of it, with a card that read Electronics.
Gavin hesitated. There was something about the doll’s coloring that gave him pause. That tuft of ebony hair, and those piercing blue eyes . . . they reminded him of someone. He thought Ruby might freak out if she saw it, so he scooted the doll to the left, out of the entryway. Juniper was already on edge because of the pool. He didn’t want some small thing to set off Ruby as well.
He delivered his phone to the tray. Brett delivered his next, along with Parker’s, because Parker couldn’t be bothered to leave the table and do it himself. The girls ambled over last, and as Juniper drew near, Gavin saw that she was clutching her phone like a raft.
“It’s just a stupid rule,” he told her, holding out a hand. “The Ringmaster probably thinks we’ll use our phones to cheat.”
“How?” Juniper glanced from him to Ruby.
“Murder mystery dinners tend to follow a certain formula,” Ruby said, handing Gavin her phone. “There might be clues about our characters online. Obviously, we wouldn’t play that way, but not everyone here is so ethical.”
Ruby wiggled her eyebrows, not even deigning to look at Parker, and Juniper relinquished her phone.
Gavin delivered their cell phones to the little tray, nudging it, and the baby doll, farther away. Into the lighted kitchen with the white marble island. A wooden knife block sat in the middle of the island, but all the slots were empty. At least we won’t be stabbing each other in the back, he thought with a laugh. Then he glanced at the doll and his pulse quickened.
Hurrying back to the table, Gavin took his seat as the intercom screeched to life. “Welcome to the fifth annual Burning Embers Foundation murder mystery dinner! Please make yourselves at home, have a drink, and introduce your characters.”
Gavin lifted his card from the table. On the outside, it simply said Gavin Moon, but inside, there was information. A character name, a love interest, a weapon, and a secret. He closed his card as quickly as he’d opened it.
All around him, he saw more of the same: people opening, scanning, and then closing their cards. Brett was blushing. Ruby was scowling. Parker stuffed his card into his pocket. Only Juniper seemed to be taking in the information before reacting, but her gaze kept flicking to the patio. Gavin wished he could pull heavy curtains over the back doors, hiding the pool from her sight. But that was the thing about demons: they could follow you through curtains, follow you through glass. Gavin’s demons were listed inside his card:
1. My name is THE INVISIBLE MAN.
2. I am secretly in love with THE UNDERWATER ACROBAT.
3. My weapon is a CAMERA because I WILL EXPOSE EACH ONE OF YOU.
4. My greatest secret is I WOULD KILL TO BE POPULAR.
Gavin snorted, shaking his head. He wouldn’t kill to be popular. Popularity could kiss his ass. Still, there was a grain of truth to each piece of information, and he had the strangest feeling the character was an exaggerated version of himself. At least, he hoped it was an exaggerated version. Yes, he’d brought a camera, as he’d been instructed to do, but he wasn’t planning on “exposing” anyone tonight.
Well, maybe Parker, if the guy wouldn’t shut up.
“Wait.” Gavin pushed out of his seat, hurrying around the table. He wanted to get to the sixth card before Parker could snatch it up. Unlike the other cards, which had been folded to stand on their own, this one had fallen flat on the table. That was why no one had reached for it yet. Well, that and the fact that we’re total narcissists, Gavin thought, myself included. Everyone wanted to study their own characters before thinking about anyone else.
He lifted the card, goose bumps rippling over his skin. One of these things is not like the others, he thought. For one thing, the card didn’t have a full name on the outside. Just scattered letters:
a n e r i k
And on the inside, the list was different too. Gavin read it aloud to the group:
“1. My name is DOLL FACE.
3. My weapon is THE ELEMENT OF SURPRISE because NO ONE WILL SEE IT COMING.
4. My greatest secret is I AM ALREADY HERE.”
“There’s no number two,” Ruby said, coming up beside Gavin. Parker snorted, no doubt amused by her wording.
I hope he dies first, Gavin thought, then swallowed, unsure of where the thought had come from. Sure, they were at a murder mystery dinner, but they weren’t going to be the victims. He’d been certain of that, going in.
Hadn’t he?
Parker snatched the card from Gavin’s hand, ripping him out of his thoughts. “Maybe Doll Face doesn’t love anyone,” Parker suggested, giving away more than he’d intended. Before now, Gavin hadn’t been certain everyone’s card was like his own. Now he was confident in assuming each card listed the same set of information, except this one.
Ruby tilted her head. “But why leave the number out? Why not number them one, two, and three?”
“Because the absence is significant,” Parker answered, glancing at the candelabra. He eyed the burning candles the way Juniper had eyed the swimming pool. All of them had a weakness.
“Oh,” Gavin said, realizing the answer. “Doll Face has no weakness.”
“You think love is a weakness?” Juniper frowned at him, and he flushed, looking away.
“Love is definitely a weakness.” Ruby glanced at Parker in his crisp green suit. “But then, some people think they’re in love, when they’re really just insecure.”
Brett rounded on her. “Why don’t you keep your insults to your—”
“Whoa, whoa,” Gavin said, stepping in. If people were going to tear each other apart, they could do it after they’d solved this mystery. “I’m not saying love is a weakness. I’m saying people can use it against you.”
Juniper nodded. “Like the way superheroes always try to stay single, because they know the villain will go after the person they love.”
“Okay, show of hands,” Ruby said, lifting her own. She was wearing scarlet elbow-length gloves, the exact same color as her hair. “Whose card lists a love interest?”
Everyone raised their hand except for Brett. Juniper scooted closer to him. “It’s just a game,” she said. “Characters. Come on, Brett.”
Gavin was surprised at how softly she was speaking to him, like he was a puppy who needed love, and not the henchman to a monster. But Juniper had known Brett before he got twisted up in Parker’s web, and she must’ve been thinking of that sweet-faced little boy. Gavin didn’t have the luxury of remembering Brett fondly.
He just wanted to forget.
After all, the two used to be friends. It seemed impossible now, but back in grade school, Brett and Gavin had been inseparable. They used to meet in the forest behind their houses and go on adventures. They’d pluck branches from the ground and brandish them like swords. They’d search for treasure. Once, they’d found a bird’s nest that had fallen from a tree, and six-year-old Brett had burst into tears, worried the babies wouldn’t make it.
Now it looked like he might cry again. Gavin felt the strangest urge to reach out to him. But he knew exactly how that would end, knew how it always ended, since Parker had come into the picture.
Slowly Brett lifted his hand, saying, “My character has a love interest.”
“So everyone has a weakness,” Gavin said, “except for Doll Face. What about these letters?” He gestured to the front of the card.
“Maybe it’s an anagram?” Parker suggested.
“With six letters? Everyone else has their full name on their card. Wait . . .” Gavin studied the card again, fingers tracing the letters. “Everyone’s initials are capitalized. Right?” He held up his card, so they could see the name Gavin Moon printed across the front in calligraphy.
Everyone nodded, even B
rett.
“Okay, well, these letters are all lowercase,” he said, pointing to Doll Face’s card. “So maybe instead of an anagram, some letters are missing and we have to fill them in. We can assume two of the missing letters are this person’s initials.”
The intercom scratched to life, and Gavin half expected the voice to award him points for his discovery. Instead it said, “Please make yourselves at home, have a drink, and introduce your characters.”
Juniper shivered, and Gavin slid off his jacket, laying it over her shoulders. “Thank you,” she said, clutching the edges. “You still think it’s a timed recording?”
“I’m less confident than I was a minute ago. But hey, I’ll go first.” In a booming voice, Gavin announced, “I am the Invisible Man.”
“The Human Torch,” Parker said, not to be upstaged. “Which makes no sense, by the way, because I’m wearing green.”
Everyone eyed his forest-green suit. It was Ruby who made the connection. “Oh! You’re the hottest part of the flame,” she surmised, at which Parker grinned.
“I’m the Underwater Acrobat,” Juniper murmured.
“The Iron Stomach.” That was Brett, and Gavin hadn’t heard him speak so softly in years. He wondered if Brett was actually shaken. In the light of the chandelier, his deep purple suit made him look like a bruise.
“And I’m the Disappearing Act,” Ruby said with flair. Gavin waited for her to curtsy, but she didn’t.
After a minute, the intercom spoke again: “Please make yourselves at home, have a drink, and introduce your characters.”
“We just did!” Parker barked, engaging with the intercom the way he engaged with the drive-through window. Gavin knew this for a fact. Once, when he was a sophomore, Brett had thrown him into Parker’s trunk, and together, the boys had taken a joyride around the town, getting food, then shoulder-tapping at the local market, and finally hitting on girls outside some sleazy club.
“Please make yourselves at home, have a drink, and introduce your characters. Please make yourselves at home, have a drink, and introduce your characters. Please—”
“We introduced ourselves! We had a drink! We—” Parker froze, his gaze settling on Gavin. “It’s you.”
“What? I introduced myself first.”
“Look at your wineglass.” Parker snorted, glancing at Brett. Both of the boys had polished off their drinks already. Ruby’s glass was only half-full. Even Juniper had taken a sip or two.
That left Gavin and Gavin alone, and Parker would never let him forget it. “This infant is afraid of apple cider.”
“I’m not afraid,” Gavin snarled. He hated how easy it was for Parker to get under his skin. “I’m just not drinking anything you poured. You probably spiked—”
Parker cut him off with a laugh. “Feel free to check it. Not that you’d know what whiskey smells like—”
“Oh, for God’s sake.” Gavin snatched up his glass, inhaling deeply. When the smell hit his nostrils, he jerked back, eyes swimming with tears. There was something off about the cider. He wanted to check the others’ glasses to see if their drinks smelled the same, but he didn’t know how to do it without incurring Parker’s wrath.
Gavin inhaled again, but his coordination was off. His vision blurred and his nasal passages felt like they were on fire. Something pungent had been dumped into his glass. Something you’d smell in a chemistry lab, or . . .
“Gavin?” Juniper’s voice sounded faint, like she was calling to him from a tunnel.
“I . . .” He set the wineglass on the table, leaning away from it, but his movements were jerkier than he’d expected. As he jolted backward, the chair jolted with him. Together, they tipped. Together, they toppled. Gavin threw out his arms to protect his head. The last thing he saw was Parker staring down at him, green eyes glittering like emeralds in the light of the chandelier.
Then his eyelids fluttered closed, and he saw nothing.
6.
PUNCH DRUNK
When Gavin hit the ground, Brett leapt out of his chair. His heart was hammering. Had someone spiked Gavin’s drink? Or was this all part of the game? It was funny, how easy it was to forget you were at a murder mystery dinner when a classmate passed out on the hardwood, but Brett wasn’t the only one who was confused.
Everyone was hurrying to Gavin’s side.
Parker got there first. He held a hand to Gavin’s mouth, to make sure he was breathing, while Juniper checked for a pulse. Brett couldn’t remember a time when Juniper wasn’t playing doctor (and not the fun kind). Meanwhile, Ruby hovered over the body, looking particularly pale. Then again, it was hard to tell with Ruby; she was so ghostly pale to begin with. In fact, she’d always struck Brett as someone who would fade out of existence if she didn’t feed off the energy of boys like Parker Addison. Everyone she touched ended up broken or dead.
“His vitals are okay,” Juniper said from her place on the ground. “But I think we should call an ambulance, in case—”
“Too bad, so sad,” the intercom broke in. “The Invisible Man knew too much. But who in this group wanted to silence him?”
Brett’s breathing quickened. He was afraid to say what he was thinking: that he knew exactly who wanted to silence Gavin. His gaze flicked involuntarily to the left, to the guy who was reaching for Gavin’s wineglass.
“It’s all part of the game,” Parker said, swirling the contents of the glass. But there must’ve been cider on the outside, because the glass slid out of his fingertips.
Onto the ground.
“Shit!” He leapt back, as the glass shattered. “That wasn’t my fault,” he said quickly.
Juniper fixed him with a glare. Together, the two huddled around the fallen wineglass, searching for signs of contamination. There was nothing. Nothing on the glass, and nothing in the amber liquid spreading across the floor. Still, some things didn’t leave a residue, and Parker must’ve known it, because he lifted a shard to his nose.
“Don’t,” Brett ordered. “You’ll cut yourself.”
Damn it. He shouldn’t have said that. He had been good, so good this past year. He’d distanced himself from Parker. He’d stopped pulverizing people, in and out of the ring. And even though keeping out of trouble could never be mistaken for atonement, he kept hoping he’d eventually get to a point where his past would slip away from him, and he would be clean.
Then Parker walked into the periphery and everything went to hell.
Luckily, he was walking out of the periphery now, to wash his hands in the kitchen. Juniper exhaled, saying, “That was a good call, Brett. If he’d sliced his hand, any drugs would’ve gone right into his bloodstream.”
“Juniper, it’s a game.” Ruby rolled her eyes. “See how Gavin’s arm is draped over his face? That’s so he can hide his smile. He didn’t even take a drink!”
“I know,” Juniper said, visibly shaken. “But I want to be cert—”
“Look.” Ruby knelt down, tickling Gavin in the ribs. He sighed, twitching a little, as if he wanted to curl into himself. “See? He’s trying not to laugh. He’s really good—”
“Uh, guys,” Parker said, returning from the kitchen. “I think we’re supposed to be playing along.”
“Oh, my stars,” Ruby gushed in the most ridiculous southern accent. “Our dear friend Gavin has departed . . . Let’s read his card,” she added, flashing a mischievous grin.
As quickly as she’d fallen into character, she’d fallen out of it. Of course, it would’ve been easier to play along if there were hired actors here. You couldn’t throw five classmates into a room together and expect them to stay in character every second. Especially since they’d just been given their character details. But even that was suspect, Brett thought, as Juniper lifted Gavin’s card from the ground. If Gavin was the murder victim, he must’ve known about his part before he got here. And if the intercom’s story was to be believed, one of the people here was the killer. Brett certainly hadn’t been given any indication of his character�
��s guilt when he’d received his invitation, but he wanted to be prepared for the possibility.
He wanted to win.
By now, Juniper had unfolded Gavin’s card and was reading aloud to the group: “My name is the Invisible Man. I am secretly in love with the Underwater Acrobat. My weapon is a camera because I will expose each one of you. My greatest secret is I would kill to be popular.”
“Kill to be popular. Cute.” Ruby snorted, and Brett couldn’t help but wonder if she was trying to distract the group from Juniper’s reaction. At the mention of “the Underwater Acrobat,” her face had gone beet red. Gavin’s card was a little too accurate. Quietly Brett scanned the group, imagining what each card would say if it told the truth.
His name is the Human Torch, he thought, glancing at Parker, and he’s in love with the Disappearing Act.
That one was easy. Juniper, too, was simple enough to assess. She was the Underwater Acrobat, and if rumors at school were to be believed, she was in love with the girl sitting next to her. Still, Brett had never really gotten the impression that Juniper wanted to push Ruby up against a wall and kiss her. Juniper was obsessed with Ruby in the way that little girls are obsessed with each other before they even know boys exist, as if she’d honestly believed the two would grow up, get married, have children, and still love each other more than anyone.
Unfortunately, things hadn’t played out the way Juniper wanted. Ruby had ruined it all by falling too deeply in love. First with Parker and then . . . Well, Brett still didn’t know the truth about Ruby and Shane.
Even after seeing the video.
“First things first,” he said, looking down at the boy on the floor. Gavin’s shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and his vest was askew. “Why is Gavin the Invisible Man? He’s dressed like a reporter.”
“He’s the observer,” Juniper said instantly. “He watches everyone. No one watches him.”
This Lie Will Kill You Page 4
