Chapter 11

Nobody Likes Melon

After the conch horn sounded through the mansion’s intercom system, signaling the end of the investigation period, the remaining ten guests were escorted by resort staff to the game room. Giles was there waiting for them.

“I know it’s late and you’re all likely quite tired by now,” he said. “But there are a few more investigative stages before you’ll be asked to provide your murder theories, to state your cases, so to speak. First, the killer wants to give you all time to share with one another what you have learned. Remember to do so strategically. If everyone wins, then you all will also lose since each round of this game must have at least one loser and one winner. You have twenty-five minutes. Use the time wisely.”

At first the guests merely mingled in the same groups in which they’d investigated the various designated areas. But then Gary finally stepped out, away from his group, realizing that he needed more information and the only way to get that was to talk to the other guests. He approached Whitney and Charlene first, offering to share what he knew in exchange for what they’d found in the morgue. This set off a flurry of activity as the guests went from one group to another, attempting to forge tentative alliances.

Not all attempts were successful. There were many who were still quite suspicious of Kyle and therefore refused to speak with him at all. And others simply ran out of time to approach everyone they’d intended to. Twenty-five minutes goes by rather quickly when your life depends on those minutes being productive.

When Giles returned, he beckoned the guests to follow him.

“This way, please,” he said. “There is one more challenge ahead of you for tonight.”

The guests warily trudged after Giles as he walked briskly toward the mansion’s huge gourmet kitchen. It had three six-burner professional-grade stoves, at least four ovens, a giant flattop grill, a meat smoker, a rotisseries pit, a wood-burning oven, and a walk-in pantry, fridge, and freezer.

Giles stood by a large basket of honeydew melons and faced the guests with a slight yet professional smile.

“For this final challenge, you are to each take a melon. You may do with it what you please, but may I suggest that you think before you act. This melon in some way holds the key to solving this crime. The killer has also asked me to read to you the following riddle, which has also been written on your melons with black Sharpies, in order to help you with this final challenge:

“ ‘So here you all are, standing there with a round fruit in your hands, wondering how it could possibly help you on this mound of sand. Here’s a tip: go to where wooden planks form a TV empire. Once you’ve found the next helpful object, just impale first, then fire.’ ”

The guests gaped at Giles as honeydew melons were handed to each of them by the resort staff. Nobody moved for several seconds.

“I do suggest you hurry; you have a limited amount of time to solve this puzzle,” Giles said.

His words snapped the guests into action. They scattered, some together, some alone. But everyone seemed to have at least some semblance of a plan.

Aaron immediately went out back onto one of the island paths. He looked down at the smooth dirt trail. It didn’t make sense with the “wooden planks” from the riddle, but he was sure that the hint at planks had something to do with the island’s paths. It had to.

He wasn’t the only one with that idea. Todd and Cathy both found their way outside as well. It was dark now, but electric and oil torches lit up the island’s many walking trails. After a short time walking up and down various paths, they both grew frustrated and decided one of them should smash open their fruit, just to see what, if anything, was inside.

Todd threw his melon down onto a large boulder just off one of the walking paths. It smashed open. He and Cathy dug through the sticky remnants together. They almost celebrated too loudly when they eventually found a small laminated piece of paper.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I think it’s a map.”

“Yeah, you’re right, I see it now. Come on, this way!”

She followed Todd back toward the mansion. They followed the map’s directions closely. It led them to a seemingly solid brick wall on the outside of the mansion near the garden.

“I don’t get it, did we read it wrong?” she asked.

“We must have,” he said. “Come on, let’s go back to the front of the mansion and try again.”

Another of the guests also smashed open the honeydew and found the map. Gary had done so almost right away. Except when he was led to the wall, he was more certain he’d followed the directions correctly. So instead of running off, he stayed there and examined the brick exterior of the mansion closely.

He found the trapdoor relatively quickly: a section of the wall that slid away by pushing in the right area. Suddenly he was peering through a small opening directly into the smoking room, right behind where Jordan had been seated, which explained why the killer had led him down this way with the gift box of hookah tobacco. To get him right near this secret panel.

But only one of the ten guests correctly interpreted the first half of the riddle. Charlene loved watching TV. She watched far too much TV, even she knew that. But when your husband is dead and your kids live hundreds of miles away with their own families, there was only so much she could do to stay busy. One of her favorite shows was an HBO original called Boardwalk Empire. Which is why the first line of the riddle had clicked right away: “where wooden planks form a TV empire.” It seemed pretty obvious that the answer was “boardwalk.”

However, the real dilemma, then, was what exactly did that mean? The island itself did not have a traditional boardwalk, unless the riddle was referring to a less literal kind of boardwalk as riddles so often do. She thought back to everything she’d seen in the mansion that day. She remembered visiting the gardens, the pool area, the library, and the game room. She’d even scanned the game selection in the cabinet. And that’s when it hit her: Monopoly. Monopoly had a boardwalk, of course. Maybe the most famous boardwalk of all.

Charlene weaved her way toward the game room as discreetly as possible. She was relieved to find it empty and rushed over to the board game cabinet. As soon as she opened it, she knew she’d been right. Inside, leaning against the stack of games that included Monopoly, was a three-foot metal rod with a four-inch-long and fairly thick needle at the end. It had not been there earlier that afternoon, she was sure of it.

The new question was: Now what?

She referred back to the second half of the riddle written on her melon in black ink.

Once you’ve found the next helpful object, just impale first, then fire.

She looked at the needle on the end of the rod and then at the fruit again. Of course. She placed the melon onto a nearby table. She stabbed the end of the rod into the fruit. There was a trigger-like button on the rod’s thick handle. She pressed it.

Whoosh!

A burst of CO2 blasted out from the needle, causing the melon to explode. Just like Jordan’s chest had done. So that’s what the hole in his back was from and why there were no shot pellets in his wound, she realized.

It was only then, in her quiet celebration, that she found the laminated map among the melon’s guts. By that point, with all the evidence she had, she didn’t even need to follow it to know what she’d find when she got there. But she did anyway, and her suspicions were confirmed when she arrived and found Gary sitting by the open trapdoor, wondering just what else there was to this crime that he was missing.

Charlene knew, of course, what it was that Gary was missing. But she wasn’t about to tell him, or anyone else, about it. If she was going to be forced to play some twisted game, then she was going to try her best to win it.