Sometimes,
your brain is too overwhelmed with thoughts of her husband adopting a psychotic
murderer and convincing you to help fake her death so she can replace your
deceased other adopted daughter that you just need a vacation.
So I spent
the weekend in the mountains. Alone. Pretending I was someone else. Living out the
fantasy of a enclosed-space murder mystery. Except this time, I wasn’t the
murderer.
It was the
strangest feeling when I was awoken with the sounds of screaming from down the
hall. All the guests of the small, remote lodge rushed to see what was wrong.
We found her husband bludgeoned to death on the bathroom floor.
I had this
out of body experience where I wondered if I had murdered him and forgotten. Or
perhaps I was sleep killing. It has never happened in my 20+ years of doing
this but I’ve learned that there is always a first time for everything.
Because it really
was like playing out an episode of Murder She Wrote, the roads were too
dangerous for the police to get through for a few hours at least so we were all
trapped in the lodge with a killer.
Two
killers. But again, unless I had become so talented that even I didn’t know I
was the killer, there was someone else.
Of the
whole group, there was only one person I wanted to kill. Not the hysterical
woman who just wouldn’t stop screaming or weeping, not the wannabe J.B.
Fletcher, not the creepy desk clerk who kept staring at the body when he thought
no one was watching. It was the Tom Selleck looking man who wouldn’t listen to
any of the women. I could have straight up told him that I killed the man and
he would have patted me on the head. It was the rough. I am actually amazed
that there weren’t two dead bodies by the time the police arrived.
Which they
did. Eventually. By the time they did make it up the mountain, the wife had
confessed to having an affair and accidentally pushing her husband into the bathtub
when he found out. Boring.
Though I
guess the wannabe J.B. did a pretty good job because I wasn’t paying attention.
All that
excitement and intrigue and trying desperately not to murder Tom Selleck did do
the job of distracting me from my home life. And that was what I needed. A
weekend away from my own murders.
It wasn’t
that I needed to get away from the situation. I understand James’ motives, I am
on board with helping Casey. It’s just been a long couple of months, you know?
Sometimes, you brain is just too full of things, you need to get away from it
all for just a moment. And that’s what this weekend was.
I was able
to come back and be completely focused on saving my murdering psychopath of an
adopted daughter. I think I’ve actually found a suitable body double for her.
Now it’s all a matter of timing.
In the
meantime, I managed to get Tom Selleck’s address while the desk clerk was doing
something inappropriate around the corpse. Who says you can’t bring your
vacation back to work with you?
As always,
dear readers,
Stay Safe
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