A KILLER? RIGHT here, in this room? JJ caught his mom turning the color of a tomato, and Jackie wasn’t one to fluster easily. She was usually the one telling other people to troubleshoot stuff.

“Wow,” Penny muttered as a grin spread across her face. “We’re in a real-life murder mystery!”

Mr. Clark paced around the room with his hands clasped behind his back and continued, “A little-known fact about Mr. Barclay is that before he built the family fortune in real estate holdings, he invented a little board game called Catch a Criminal.”

He paused for dramatic effect.

But before he could continue, JJ blurted out, “Oh, like Clue!”

“No, not at all like Clue,” Mr. Clark snapped.

Clearly, this was a touchy subject.

“The game never became the hit he expected, but the original now lives in the library, if anyone is interested in playing.”

Mr. Clark looked as if he expected at least one of the guests to jump at the chance to play this game . . . but no one seemed very interested. And how could you blame them? They had just been told that they were suspects in a murder. The premise hit a little too close to home at the moment.

Fiona cleared her throat and raised her hand, like she was in school. “Excuse me?”

“Ms. Fleming, you have a question.” Mr. Clark even sounded like a teacher, all calm and patient.

Fiona paused, and glanced around the room to make sure everyone was paying attention to her. “Are we supposed to solve this mystery? Why aren’t the police involved?”

“That’s what I want to know,” Buck Jones added.

“Please give me a chance to explain Mr. Barclay’s intentions for this game,” Mr. Clark said, slightly irritated. This conversation was getting away from him. “The police did a preliminary investigation and Mr. Barclay’s physician attended as well. Both concluded that Mr. Barclay’s death was caused by a heart attack. But I know it was really death by poison!”

There was a dramatic gasp, coming from the actress in residence, Ms. Fleming. “Murder. Poisoning means murder,” she added, stating the obvious.

“Who said he was poisoned?” the detective countered.

“I requested that the police revisit this matter, so the medical examiner did an autopsy,” Mr. Clark said. His face was sad. “It was indeed poison that killed Mr. Barclay.”

“That’s murder all right,” Penny whispered, so only JJ could hear.

“Crime scene investigators have already been here at the hotel. Detectives will be coming on Monday to gather evidence and question witnesses,” said Mr. Clark. “However, Mr. Barclay was sure you—the four suspects and one detective—could solve the murder this weekend.”

Ms. Chelsea asked, “How did Mr. Barclay even set all this up? I mean, he is dead.”

Mr. Clark said, “Mr. Barclay knew he had enemies, and feared one of you might kill him. With his love for games, he decided to orchestrate one last game—from the grave, if you will. Upon his murder, he arranged for the invitations to go out and for me, his right-hand man, to ensure the game would move forward.”

The room had gone eerily silent now. Murder was serious business.

Mr. Clark added, “Of course Mr. Barclay hoped he was wrong—no one wants to be murdered. But he had some serious quarrels with four of you invited guests.”

JJ had hoped to talk to Mr. Barclay about the mansion’s hauntings. Now that the man was dead, the whole weekend felt like it had a big fat dark cloud over it.

“Well, I am no killer,” Ms. Chelsea said. “How do I clear my name?”

“That’s what all suspects say,” Ms. Fleming said, rolling her eyes with a snooty look on her face.

Mr. Clark ignored the actress and turned his attention back to Ms. Chelsea. “Play the game,” he said with a mischievous expression. “There will be five players: Detective Frank Walker, Ms. Fiona Fleming, Mr. Buck Jones, Ms. Chelsea Griffin, and Mrs. Jackie Jacobson.”

Next, Mr. Clark pointed to a table in the back, where leather-bound notebooks and pens were spread out. Five of each—one for each of the invited guests. “To clear your name, each of you must investigate the murder of Mr. Barclay. By the end of this weekend, I want to know who the real killer is.”

All the guests stared at one another, a little dumbstruck. No one said a word.

Mr. Clark said, “Of course, one of you will not want the criminal to be caught.”

“Because one of them is the murderer,” Penny whispered to JJ.

That was clear to everyone.

Mr. Clark might as well have had ultrasonic hearing, and shot Penny some dagger eyes from across the room for stealing his thunder. He cleared his throat again. “Ladies and gentlemen, go catch a criminal.”