To 2016-2017
A not-so-classic game of clue


  1. Untitled
    By Maya Joseph
Cassandra stood, overlooking the balcony, as she swirled a glass of bubbly champagne around in its flute. Her lips were painted a dark red to match her gown. She turned her attention away from the seeping sunset and back to the man slouched in her outdoor furniture.

“Are you sure I can’t offer you anything stronger, Mr. Bailey?” She inquired.
The man chuckled lightly and declined her offer with a raise of his mug filled with black coffee.

“You know, Cassie, I truly never thought I’d see you again,” he admitted.

Upon the fond nickname, her stature turned rigid and her knuckles turn a pale white as she grips her glass tighter.

“I go by Cassandra, now. Perhaps you'd like to call me Mrs. Griffin?”

He chuckled,
“No, Cass. I'm not so sure that I will”

Cassandra, emitting a short huff, straightened a picture frame on the wall.

“Haven't you got a murder to investigate, Ben?” She quipped.

With the clang of a coffee cup, Officer Griffin cleared his throat and slinks to exit the master bedroom.

“Well, that's a phrase I never thought I'd hear from your lips, Cass,” he winked.
Once Ben shut the heavy french doors behind him, Cassandra was left standing alone with only her designer decor and Dom Perignon champagne.

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“Well, Mr. Griffin. I’m terribly sorry for your loss. My team and I will do our best to track down the murderer,” he said.

With a handshake, Ben was gone.

[[]] [[]] [[]]

“Cassandra,” a maid entered the room.

The blonde turned her head to the doors. Cassie was no longer carting around champagne flutes and she was wearing a far more casual dress than she had been when the police arrived at her mansion gates.

“You have a visitor,” she said.

Once Ben entered the room and shut the door behind him, Cass's plasticky smile was replaced by a genuine smirk.

“Well, hey,” she lifted herself up from her armchair.

“You know, I gotta say, I’m not surprised you murdered that kid,” he chuckled.

Cassie rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, well, he knew too much,” she said simply.

As Cassandra and Benjamin locked eyes, they caught up on years of lost time.
 “You know, when I saw you standing on a balcony holding a glass of champagne, I almost thought I was hallucinating,” Ben joked.

“So, what? I married rich, made a positive name for myself. We couldn't all become sheriffs after what happened, Benji,” she smiled.

He stared into her eyes for a moment, and saw a teenaged girl wearing a torn sweatshirt and littered with dirt and fresh wounds; it'd been far too long.

Cassandra had aged far more gracefully than Benjamin had: the scraggly-haired teenager with a beat-up Ford pickup and lightning-fast reflexes had transformed into an adult with scars lining his arms and green eyes sunken with regret. Cass, on the other hand, had gone from an underweight, blonde girl with a knack for finding danger and the ability to charm the pants off of anyone, to a socialite with a wealthy husband and more possessions than she could care for.

The last time they’d spoken was clouded by years’ worth of unspoken words and cherished memories.

“You know, I was hoping I’d see you again,” she whispered.

“Guess you got lucky, Cass,” he added.

“So, who did murder that poor little pool boy?” She whipped over to face Ben, her blonde hair swinging with the movement.

“We can't exactly talk about that here, can we?” He inquired.

She nodded,
“Let's go somewhere else, then”

“‘Meet me on the bridge at midnight. Alone,” he whispered.

Their meeting was solidified with a glance. Benjamin left the estate with a smile still dancing on his lips.

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When Cassie arrived on the bridge, wearing an old hoodie and leggings, Benjamin couldn't help but smile at the nostalgic feeling that came with her.

“You're late,” he said.

“By two minutes,” she cocked an eyebrow.

“Besides, two minutes isn't bad. We're having a conversation,” she added.

Ben cracked her a smile.

“I guess that hoodie threw me off a bit. Almost thought we were gonna go spray paint another bridge or steal some candy to watch the sunrise,” he laughed.

She smiled at him.

Cassandra had worked very hard to forget all about Benjamin Griffin and everything she felt for him, but the simple sight of him leaning against an abandoned bridge melted away all those years apart; they were suddenly teenagers again.

“I’ve missed this more than anything,” she whispered.

Ben didn't respond, but Cassie knew he had, too, only from the simple twinge in his smile.

“So, Ben, who's getting arrested? Is it the cook? The butler? The neighbor-”

Ben let out a stoic laugh that stopped her rampage.

“Jealous girlfriend, actually,” he said.

Cassie, who'd crossed her arms over her chest, let out a soft snigger.

“Brilliant, B. So,” she trailed off.

“So why did you do it?”

Cassandra was taken aback by his sudden question.

“I had to kill that boy; he recognized me-”

“From the incident in Seattle? Cassie, that wasn't your fault-”

“It was. They didn't have to die. If I hadn't left them there, they'd still be alive!”

“You didn't commit any-”

“Where do you think their bodies went?!”

Ben cupped his faces in his hands, unsure of the proper response.

“It was a fight or flight thing, then”

“Besides, It doesn't matter,” she paused. “That couple’s still dead and I didn't do a damn thing to help them”

“What's he got to do with it?”

“He was their son.”

“Okay,” he paused. “And?”

“He knew, Ben. He knew. He was yes to take it up with the police and-”

“And? I’m the sheriff, in case you’d forgotten”

“It's too late, now”

Ben had intended on comforting her with a reminder that she hadn't done anything wrong to that couple- Cassie was attacked and they'd stepped in to help. She didn't put those bullets into their heads, but she felt as if she could have.

Ben told her the only thing he could think of:

“Well, if you're so tired of having cover up your tracks here in the States, how opposed would you be to running off- like we used to talk about?” He blurted.

Cassie’s cheeks swelled up with a genuine smile,
“Only if it’s London, this time!”

Cass plucked the car keys from Ben’s waiting grasp and skipped off to claim her spot in the driver's seat.

Benjamin grinned at Cassie for a moment, unsure if this was just another dream or reality.

One thing was for damn sure: Cassandra had never been one to repeat herself. And if this was really happening, he’d rather make a fool out of himself than miss another second with the love of his life.

Benjamin couldn't quite decipher reality from dreams when it came to Cassandra; he was willing to take a chance on either.