I thought I was supposed to do that between murders two and three, but it was actually one and two. I missed my optional cue to drunkenly blurt out to the detective that I had killed her parents in a plane crash. The “billionaire” speakeasy owner was the first to be murdered, and the “detective” began to investigate. We all roamed the room trying to find out the other characters’ secrets. One of my secrets was having an affair with “Vixen,” a notorious con artist. We all had a list of character qualities (or lack thereof) and secrets we didn’t want the others to discover. Lynne was a socialite, Shirley was a journalist, Roger was a bookie (he won the award for “most in character”), and I was pilot Bo Hancock, ruggedly handsome and a little dense (I kept telling everyone the “ruggedly handsome” line). The theme was a speakeasy in the early 1920s, and all 18 participants were given scripted roles to play. ![]() On Friday night, we made our way to the lakeside pavilion. I don’t think we gave much thought to the line that said, “Where everyone is a suspect!” Lynne, Roger, Shirley, and I all love a good mystery, so we decided to book it through the concierge desk. Our family had just arrived at our vacation condominium, and we were taking our bags up on the cart. ![]() “Murder Mystery on Friday Evening.” I turned toward Lynne as the elevator began to ascend to the third floor.
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