Free Murder at Longbourn by Tracy Kiely Page B

walnuts, followed by the beef filets with Gorgonzola sauce.
    Aunt Winnie had seated at least one of the actors at each table. Susie and Steven sat with Joan, Henry, Daniel, and Polly. Tom andKaren sat with Aunt Winnie, Randy, and Peter. I was seated at a table with Lauren and Gerald, Linnet, Jackie, and Eric.
    The purpose of this arrangement, of course, was for the guests to find out more about the murder. Unfortunately, Henry seemed to have missed this and monopolized the conversation at his table with rapturous tales of Mrs. Kristell Dubois’s latest addition to her estate—an enormous outdoor fireplace. I heard Daniel politely ask if Mrs. Dubois was fond of s’mores. Beside him, Joan’s face was awash with embarrassment and her none-too-subtle hints that he drop the matter went unheeded.
    At our table, Eric talked freely and loudly about his friendship with Steven, dropping hints and making innuendos about fitting justice for infidelity in a marriage. Peering out at him from underneath her hat, Jackie peppered Eric with questions. As for Linnet, she occasionally added to the conversation, but it was hard to get an edge in with Jackie. Gerald paid more attention to his food than to us, and Lauren was so quiet she could pass for a mute. I tried several different conversation openers with her, but without much success. Books didn’t interest her. She hadn’t seen any of the movies I had seen. Even my question about politics was answered by Gerald, who flatly told me, “She votes Republican, like me.”
    Finally I said to her, “I really love your dress.”
    Bingo! She lit up. “Why, thank you!” she said. “When I saw it, I just fell in love with it. And you know what they say. Pink is the new black.” There was a short pause during which she realized that I was wearing a black dress. “Well, I mean, black is very nice, too.” I decided that perhaps it wasn’t necessary for me to engage Lauren in conversation after all.
    Soon everyone had finished dinner; coffee and dessert were served. In the interest of saving time, we had agreed that this coursewould not be served seated. Instead, we set up the coffee, cake, and plates on a side table for those who were interested.
    Aunt Winnie increased the volume of the music, which she had lowered for dinner, and lost no time in grabbing Randy and heading for the dance floor. The two of them now dipped and twirled in perfect time with each other. Daniel and Polly were also dancing. Loudly announcing that he had no intention of dancing, Gerald watched them with a grim expression from our table. No doubt he considered the activity to be a damned tedious waste of an evening.
    It wasn’t only the volume of the music that had increased; the tension among the actors was now palpable. Karen appeared quite drunk. Steven was so upset he had developed a stutter. Tom was pretending that everything was fine, but whenever anyone spoke to him, he had trouble making eye contact. Eric stood very quietly by the bar, watching Steven. Only Susie seemed untouched by the tension. She laughed freely and flirted with all the men. But one thing was clear—something was about to happen.
    And then it did. Without warning the room was pitched into inky blackness. An excited gasp went up from the guests. The “murder” was about to happen. Around me, several voices began talking at once. “Oh, it’s starting!” “Ow, that’s my foot!” “I can’t see a thing.” “This is asinine.” (This last comment was uttered by Gerald, of course.) I listened for any subtle “clues,” but there was nothing subtle about what happened next. I saw a flash of green and heard a pop. It was followed by a piercing scream. Someone fell heavily, sending dishes and glasses smashing to the ground in the process. I was just thinking that Aunt Winnie was going to be upset if her good china was broken all for the sake of the show, when I was roughly pushed aside and I heard a voice yell out, “For God’s