Plagued: a companion to Whodunnit

The Second Day

Everyone was in a hysterical frenzy. Tears and tremors, screams and panic attacks, and the unbearable silence could be heard that first hour.

"We need the police, detectives, homicide, forensics," Penny hollered.

"We need one hell of a therapist," Arnold said solemnly. They all looked at him but said nothing.

At this time they were sitting in the foyer adjacent to the lobby. They were staring at the doors to exit. A few guests suggested leaving.

Cameron countered: "The entrance is blocked off, there's about two-three feet of snow. Even the awning broke under the weight of the white. We could probably make it to our cars but we can't drive in this. Even if we could, there's no where to know where we are going and which way leads to town."

And after a moment of thinking, he announced the final reason: a killer would be at large and no one would be able to know who it was.

Eleanor was the most sympathetic of them all. She would cater to the suffering. Specifically Esther and Liena were in a miserable state of melancholy. They were delicate women.

Arnold was pretty sensible, but he was the most accusatory. Vinyl, he had said, was the type to witness murder-maybe even done a few himself-being from the streets and such. He even pointed out that Cameron had the capability being the strongest in appearance of the men.

This made Arnold disliked. He was okay with it. The risk at befriending a murderer was present, and he would not have at that.

Eleanor knew somewhat about detective work; she loved true crime shows like dateline. It was like a study of crime to watch. She saw each murder, each though-process and decision, each mistake made. She could probably point out what things they should have done instead to not get caught.

"First thing's first. The murder weapon. We're looking for something big like a machete or a fire axe," Eleanor stated.

"I saw, or thought I saw," Aubrey said, "A small hatchet by the block of wood. It looked like it was decent and sizable enough to carry it out."

Aubrey led them to the wood but no axe was present.

"If you were to dispose of a murder weapon," Eleanor began, "Where would you hide it?"

Cameron knew, "Well, you'd be frantic and rash. Maybe out a window or in a trashcan. A more methodic killer might place it in their room or in a closet behind towel or something."

They searched and Liena suggested the trashcan in the bathroom. Eleanor decided to go in with Arnold. They pulled out the grey can and stashed under a few paper towels was a bloody hatchet.

They were delighted.

Contemplation on why she was killed surrounded the kitchen. Everyone was preparing lunch, moving around, and a bust was knocked over which caused some commotion. Everyone was focused on picking up the shards. Everyone spoke about their suspicions over sandwiches.

"Didn't she mention she was a journalist earlier that night?" Aubrey asked.

This was true.

"Could this be revenge," Esther supposed.

This was not known. It was plausible and everyone agreed that it was probably the case. It was known that most of the attendants were connected to political figures and that was a concern. Maybe a secret scandal was at the verge of exposure. Or maybe a seditious article prodded the people to go against a governor or a law. It was all speculation and pretty tall to believe.

Later that evening Aubrey was concerned. She had remembered something that caused her great fear.

She was more than just a sniper. She was a mechanic. She was paid $400 to sabotage Mr. Walker's brakes. She was responsible for his death.

That night, everyone ate dinner together. They rode the elevator up together. But they were all alone in their rooms.

In the morning, Aubrey woke up early and went down to get some coffee. Hours later, everyone woke up to find the coffee pot was still on and full.

Penny knew something was wrong. Cameron had found her this time when he checked outside to see the road conditions. She was crushed, pinned between a brick wall and a Beemer.

"My car! Who stole my car?" Liena yelled.

A letter was sitting on the hood of the crushed BMW.

"Frogger."