I followed Ms. White as closely as I could. She was moving pretty quickly, and I was having trouble pulling my panties back into place.
The scream had come from the other side of the house, and it had stopped as quickly as it had started. I wasn't sure what to expect when Ms. White flung open the doors to the billiard room.
Ms. Scarlet was bound on the pool table, a cue sticking out of her ass and the eight ball in her mouth. Her eyes were closed and it looked like she was anxiously anticipating Mr. Green sinking his cock into her last free pocket. He was standing behind her, shocked at our sudden intrusion, his short fat prick inches away from performing some English on Ms. Scarlet's g-spot. I wasn't sure whether to be outraged or turned on.
"Freeze!" I shouted.
"Freeze?" Mr. Green asked, confused at the interruption. "You don't have a gun."
"Pretend I do," I snapped. "Get off that table. Get that pool cue out of her ass."
Pissed, Mr. Green hopped off the felt, his hard on wiggling wildly as he did so. He removed the cue with a sour look on his face.
I held my hand in front of Ms. Scarlet's mouth. "You can spit it out, now," I said reassuringly.
She did. The eight ball landed in my hand, damp with spit.
"Christ," she hissed, rolling over into an Indian crouch. "Every time I'm about to get fucked somebody either gets killed or arrested."
"You mean you wanted the pool cue in your ass?" I asked.
"Of course I did," she said angrily. "Didn't you see how small his cock was?"
Mr. Green blushed.
I held up the eight ball. "How the hell did you fit this in your mouth?" I asked with amazement.
"Practice," she shrugged nonchalantly.
"You're sick," I said with disgust. I eyed her full, naked breasts and felt myself getting warm all over. "I like that about you," I admitted.
"Well, Ms. McCoy," a voice laughed behind me. "It appears you've made quite a mess of things."
I turned and found myself face to face with Mr. Boddy, very much alive, and, unfortunately, very clothed.
"You're not dead," I said with surprise, stating the obvious.
"No, not yet," Mr. Boddy grinned. "But because of your meddling, I may be a lot poorer. Mr. Green and I had a deal, and your investigation may have cost me thousands of dollars."
"Deal?" I asked. "What deal?"
"I get to fuck Ms. Scarlet," Mr. Green chimed in, "and Boddy gets to consider that payment in full for a business loan I granted a few years back."
Colonel Mustard and Mrs. Peacock had arrived, staring in wonder at the newly risen murder victim. Professor Plum was close behind, adjusting his glasses on his nose to be sure Mr. Boddy wasn't a trick of the light. "Why'd you have to fake your death?" I asked Boddy, trying to keep my eyes on his face and not his zipper, which is where I wanted to look.
"I had to allow Mr. Green some time to comfort Ms. Scarlet in her time of mourning," Mr. Boddy said. "Which he was doing quite well before you barged in."
"With Ms. Scarlet's permission," Mr. Green said, "We could continue as if nothing happened."
Ms. Scarlet shrugged. "What the hell," she said, assuming her previous position. "I started the evening as a slut, I might as well end it as a high-priced whore."
"That's the spirit!" Mr. Boddy said cheerfully.
Mr. Green clambered back on the pool table, and slid his modest cock into Ms. Scarlet. The look on his face changed from anticipation to sheer joy, and he began to pump his hips back and forth with bunny rabbit enthusiasm.