Saturday, July 20, 2013

From THE FASHIONISTA MURDERS: The party was over--almost!


Finally, Kate glanced at her watch and gave Cam’s sleeve a tug. It was Saturday night after a long, hectic week and she was looking forward to relaxing in the luxury of his loft.
    They thanked Winston and Regina and had their coats on—when the door to the terrace banged open and a guest in a tuxedo appeared, drink in hand and swaying slightly.
    “Good God, Winston,” he shouted, “come quick and look at something.”
    Kate and Cam eyed each other. Along with Winston and the handful of remaining guests, they followed the man in the tux into the night chill.
    He led them down the terrace steps and across the veranda to the dome that surrounded the pool. The door was open and one by one they filed inside and into air filled with steam from the heating unit. The twin underwater lights at mid-pool cast an eerie glow. The guests all leaned over the side and stared down into the darkness at the deep end of the water.
    Kate wasn’t sure—“it’s a clump of something brownish” was all she could say. Cam thought it might be one of those huge inflatable toys. It was simply too dark.
    “Jesus,” Winston said, removing his glasses and wiping the lenses with his thumb before taking another look. “I hope it’s not what I think it is.”
    He sent Regina for a flashlight and hurried to the pool shed, appearing seconds later with a long-handled rake. Regina returned and held the light.
    Winston let the rake drop down into the pool and began poking at the thing. He felt the teeth hooking into something heavy. When he started pulling, it moved, a tremendous weight, but he inched it up until whatever it was rose all the way and with a gigantic splash broke the surface of the water. 
    The first shriek of horror came roaring from deep in the throat of Miles Harding. “Oh My God in Heaven,” the director’s words thundered. “It’s my precious Toni.”  
    Miles dropped to his knees and cupped his hands around the dangling head. Winston and Cam reached down and pulled the remainder of the dripping body from the water and lowered it to the concrete.  
    By now everyone was gagging and shouting and covering their mouths to keep from throwing up.
    Bawling his eyes out, Miles wrapped his arms around the soaking lump of humanity, drawing the head closer until his eyes matched the whites of Toni’s. In the glare of the flashlight it was impossible for anyone to miss two grisly details.
    The lips on which Miles exchanged his farewell kiss were attached to a head that faced backwards. The rest of Toni Treadwell’s naked body was encased in a shroud of soaking wet burlap.
    
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