The Name of the Game Was Murder Read Online Free

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 AugustusTrevor’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.

THREE
    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