The Name of the Game Was Murder (3 page)

She smiled. “Impulsive is the word.”

I smiled back because I really liked Aunt Thea. As I flopped into a chair I stretched out my legs and sighed. “Impulsiveness says it all. I guess that’s something I’m going to have to watch out for in my writing. There’s so much to learn.”

Aunt Thea reached over and patted my knee. “Be patient with yourself. Becoming a published writer takes years and years of practice and experience. Do you think that Augustus had immediate success?”

Her question caught me by surprise. “Why, yes,” I said. “He did, didn’t he? His first book won that big literary award and boom!—instant fame.”

“His
fourth
book,” she said. “The first three were rejected many times over.”

“They were?” I mumbled, and tried to absorb what she’d said, but Thea changed the subject.

“I’m sorry, too, that Augustus moved you to the tower room. I know it’s small and unhandy, but since he’d assigned the other rooms to his guests—”

“Please don’t apologize,” I interrupted. “The tower room is a really—uh—interesting room. I—uh—like it.”

Thea paused a moment, accepting what we both knew was a polite fib, then picked up a teacup in one hand and a silver teapot in the other and asked, “Would you like a cup of tea, Samantha?”

“Oh … yes, thank you,” I answered. I’d rather have had a soft drink, but I supposed tea was okay if it had a lot of sugar and lemon in it. Thea handed me a cup and saucer, and even though I was still bemused by what she had said about Augustus’s rejections, I noticed there was
another cup and saucer on the tray. “Is uh—Mr.—I mean, is your husband going to join us?”

“Why don’t you just relax and call him Augustus?” she suggested.

“I—I don’t think I could do that.”

Aunt Thea took a sip of tea and nodded. “You’ll soon begin to feel comfortable with him.”

I seriously doubted that, but I didn’t have to say so, because Thea went on to explain, “The extra cup is for Laura Reed. She arrived this morning, and she’ll be down to join us at any minute.”

“Laura Reed!” I nearly dropped my cup. “You don’t mean Laura Reed the movie star, do you?”

“The very same,” Thea answered. “She’s one of Augustus’s guests for the weekend party he planned.”

“He didn’t tell you about the party before I got here,” I said, but Thea just shrugged.

“Augustus has always been able to bring home unannounced guests and know they’ll be well cared for.”

I put down my cup and leaned forward. “Aunt Thea,” I said, “I didn’t mean to crash his party. I’m sorry if I caused any trouble.”

She smiled as she reached out and squeezed my hand. “Don’t look so worried, Samantha. You’re not the cause of any trouble. Augustus tends to be hotheaded when things aren’t going the way he’s planned, and during the last few years the painful bouts he’s had with arthritis and gout haven’t helped his disposition. But I’m sure you’ll find that he’ll be perfectly charming while you’re here. He can be a very gracious host when he wants to be.”

Easy for her to say. She hadn’t had him throw a temper tantrum right in her face.

Or had she? I got the uncomfortable feeling that she wasn’t telling me the truth.

“Hello, Thea.”

I rose to my feet as Laura Reed—the famous movie star Laura Reed—glided into the room. Maybe I expected flashing lights and little twinkle stars and a mink coat and a sparkly sequined dress. I didn’t expect what I saw: a pretty but quiet woman who wore no makeup. Her blond hair—just a shade lighter than mine—hung straight and heavy around her face, and she was dressed in a simple white blouse and navy blue jeans.

They had to be designer jeans, I told myself as Aunt Thea introduced us. And the blouse—she probably bought it on Rodeo Drive. After all, Laura Reed was a movie star, so she must have a ton of money, in spite of the fact that her last two movies had bombed.

She took both my hands and looked into my eyes as she smiled shyly. Shyly? A movie star? She reminded me more of a mouse. “I’m so very pleased to meet you,” she murmured in a voice all sleepily whispery and throaty.

“Thank you,” I answered. “I’m pleased to meet you, too.”

I was excited at meeting Laura Reed, and one part of my mind was already thinking about what I’d tell Darlene:
Laura? Oh, she was nice. Very friendly. And it’s true, her eyes really are a kind of greenish-gold.

But another part of my mind was registering the fact that there was an odd expression in those eyes. What did they remind me of? She was looking at me, talking to me, and yet she wasn’t. I mean, I could see that her mind was somewhere else, and it must not have been a very happy place, because she was nervous. I wondered if Augustus
Trevor’s weird house was having an effect on her. Burial urns, tower rooms with bars on the windows—if I opened a closet door and discovered a mummy, I wouldn’t be in the least surprised.

Laura had seated herself, so I quickly sat down too, picked up my cup, and tried to sip as nonchalantly as Laura and Thea.

They chatted for a few minutes, mostly about old friends and old parties. I didn’t know most of the people they were talking about, and I was a little disappointed that things weren’t turning out to be as exciting as I hoped they’d be. My attention began drifting away, but it quickly returned when Laura put down her cup and asked, “Thea, you must tell me. Why am I here?”

Aunt Thea’s eyes widened. “Why are you here? I don’t understand, Laura. You were invited to Augustus’s weekend party, and you came.”

Laura shook her head impatiently. “Party? I’d hardly call it a party.”

“But Augustus said …”

Laura Reed sighed and leaned back against the plumply cushioned sofa. “Obviously,
you
don’t know either.”

“Know what?” Now it was Thea’s turn for impatience. “Laura, please explain what you mean.”

“Very well,” Laura said. “Augustus wrote, asking me to be here. No. He didn’t ask. He
told
me to come. He said there would be a game in which I’d be one of the chief players. His exact words were, ‘If you don’t take part, you’ll soon regret it.’ ” Laura leaned forward, her golden eyes trained on Thea like piercing spotlights. “I came because I was afraid to ignore his threat.”

Thea paled. “You must be mistaken, Laura,” she said. “Surely, Augustus would never threaten his friends.”

“Friends?” Laura whispered. “I’d hardly say we were friends.”

I thought about what Laura had told us, and I had to agree with her and not with Aunt Thea. What Augustus Trevor had written to Laura Reed sounded like a threat to me.

T
he tea party was uncomfortable, with Thea trying to be a gracious hostess, in spite of what Laura had told her, and Laura trying to be a charming guest, even though it was obvious she’d rather be anywhere else. To ease the situation they both turned to me.

“You’re lucky to lead a normal life,” Laura said, and patted my hand. This time her smile was wistful, and her words dragged, plopping themselves down like reluctant feet. “You’ll never know what it’s like to …”

“To be rich and famous?” I offered helpfully.

“To be used,” she corrected. “To want to be really loved—not as a star, but as a child, hungry for affection.”

I wasn’t sure how to answer her, but I needn’t have worried because she rambled on about the traumatic people who had affected her adult life, from parents to hairdressers. Thea and I just listened. I stopped being embarrassed by Laura’s revelations and began thinking that I’d have a lot of really interesting stuff to tell Darlene.

Even though it was midafternoon, the room gradually became darker, and finally a maid in uniform came in, turned on some lights, and began picking up the empty cups. She had a round, cheerful face, and looked as if she might be only a few years older than me.

Thea went to the window. “It looks as though it’s going to pour,” she said. “Such odd weather for August.”

The maid stopped, tray in hand, and said, “Mrs. Trevor, the radio news said there’s going to be a storm. It’s part of a hurricane moving north from Mexico.”

As she spoke she looked at Aunt Thea with a kind of pity and tenderness. It was obvious that she was fond of Aunt Thea, but I didn’t understand why she should pity her.

“Thank you, Lucy,” Thea said. “I didn’t listen to the radio today. I wasn’t aware of a possible storm.”

Radio? What about television? It dawned on me that I hadn’t seen a single TV set in this house. Two weeks without television? It was hard to imagine.

Thea sat down again and announced, “The launch just pulled up to the dock, which means the other guests have arrived. We’ll all be snug and cozy before the storm breaks.”

Snug and cozy in this creepy old castle? I didn’t believe it.

Laura sat up stiffly and asked in her kind of choking, breathy way, “Who are the other guests?”

“Augustus told me that Buck Thompson is one of them,” Thea said.

I eagerly volunteered, “You know who Buck Thompson is, don’t you? He used to be a pro quarterback, only now he’s a sportscaster on one of the networks.” I realized that
I shouldn’t have interrupted, so I quickly said, “Sorry, Aunt Thea.”

Thea just smiled at me and continued. “And Julia Bryant will be here.”

“Julia Bryant!” I blurted out.

Thea raised one eyebrow and said, “I take it that you’re familiar with Julia’s books, Samantha, although I’m a little surprised that you’d like that type of novel.”

“I really don’t,” I answered, and blushed as hotly as one of Julia’s female characters. “I mean, this girl at school was talking about one of them, and she read a couple of scenes to us, and they were kind of wild, but I read some of the rest of the book, and it was boring.”

Laura nodded vigorously. “You’re right. Julia’s novels are sleaze. They’re drivel. And the last one on television was badly cast. I was up for the part, but then someone got the idea of casting this twenty-two-year-old with absolutely no talent …”

“More tea?” Thea asked, and held the teapot toward Laura as she said, “I’m sure you know that when Julia’s novels began making the best-seller list she set up a foundation to help support budding novelists—all in the name of an old friend.”

“What a neat idea,” I said, and could just see myself doing something like that in Darlene’s name. Or maybe I’d put both our names on it. “I bet that made her friend happy.”

“Thea should have said
in memory of
her friend,” Laura told me. “Julia’s friend wanted to be a writer and, as I heard it, wrote dozens of manuscripts, but never had enough courage to send them to a publisher.”

“What happened to her friend?”

Laura sighed. “Apparently, she destroyed all her manuscripts, then jumped out of a twelfth-floor window.”

“How awful!” I said.

“There’s no point in going into any of the arts unless you have a dedication and determination to achieve,” Laura began, then suddenly changed direction as a thought struck her. “Will Julia’s husband be here too? You know Jake, don’t you? The poor boy never was able to make it as an actor, even though he’s a
very
attractive man.”

“Augustus didn’t invite him,” Thea said, and looked embarrassed as she tried to explain. “He didn’t invite Senator Maggio’s wife either. That’s United States Senator Arthur Maggio of Nevada.”

“Has anyone else been invited?” Laura asked.

“One more guest,” Thea answered. “Alex Chambers.”

I’d heard the senator’s name often enough, since we lived in the same state, but I was a lot more interested in the dress designer, Alex Chambers. His clothes were high-class expensive, in tons of magazine ads, and it was a good chance that if Laura Reed was wearing designer jeans,
Alex Chambers
was the name on the label.

There was silence for a moment, until Laura murmured, “I wonder if each of your other guests received the same kind of threat I did.”

“Oh, Laura, now really,” Thea began, but Laura turned the full wattage of her green-gold eyes on Thea and said, “We’re supposed to be players in a game. I just wonder what the game is going to be.”

Aunt Thea informed me that we would dress for dinner, so I went up to my room and put on a dress and a long
string of Venetian glass beads that Darlene had given me for my birthday. I wondered why anyone who chose to live on an island would want to dress up and live in a castle with maids and butlers, when it made a lot more sense to wear shorts and go barefoot and live in an open, comfortable house where you could clean up by just sweeping the sand out the front door every morning.

I decided that if I became a famous writer, I’d do exactly that. Of course, at the moment I didn’t know if I should try to become a writer or not. I was depending upon Augustus to tell me.

We were all supposed to gather downstairs for cocktails at seven, and I wasn’t about to go down early all by myself, so I stood by the window and watched a swarm of dark clouds battle the sun, which struck out with shards of red and gold before it was smothered and dragged toward the sea.

The gloom was so intense that I turned on the bedside lamp. I sat on the edge of the bed, where I could keep one eye on the clock, and pulled my journal and a pen from the top drawer of the chest. The writers’ magazines I read suggested that writers and would-be writers keep journals and write something in them every day. I had no problem with that because I like to write.

I wrote what I had thought about the sun, but that didn’t lead anywhere, so I decided to write a description of the room I was in. Only I went even further and added some cobwebs and dust and the sound of something creeping up the stairs.

At the loud knock on my bedroom door I screeched, threw my journal into the air, and jumped to my feet.

“Are you all right, Miss Burns?” a muffled voice asked.

I staggered to the door, turned the key and opened it. “I’m fine, thank you,” I told Walter. There was no way I was going to explain. He’d think I was pretty weird.

Walter looked at me as though he thought I was pretty weird anyway and said, “The guests have gathered in the front parlor, Miss Burns. Your aunt would be pleased to have you join them.”

I had been so interested in what I’d been writing that I’d forgotten to watch the clock. “Okay,” I said. “Thanks.” I watched Walter descend the stairs before I locked the door. I hefted the big brass key in my hand, trying to decide what to do with it. My dress didn’t have a handy pocket to hold it.