Professor Plum Clue Movie Novels & Stories

She struggled not to look deflated and dejected as the judging continued. **** The middle aged private investigator, Tommy Mills, had just arrived at Whitney’s penthouse. Ava had arrived a few minutes before him, anxious to know what he had found out so far. “As you know, Mrs. Bartholomew, I’ve only been on the case for a month, but I have found out enough to know that Clarice Cameron is a fraud.” “Fraud?” Ava repeated as she leaned forward.

A hint of amusement laced his voice. "She was talking about some thesis, but I guess it was an excuse," Professor McClone teased. Sebastian's mind racing, he smiled. "Don't think too much, John. We were working on the Ashwood Heritage research. She wasn't lying," Sebastian clarified. Professor McClonechuckled. "I didn't ask for an explanation, Seb. Just meet her when you come back," Professor McClone said. With a final smile, Professor McClone hung up the call.

or how far Isa would let him go. Isa made her way to the seat in front of Theodore's desk, immediately crossing her legs and adjusting her jacket to display some professionalism. Theodore was too busy flipping through the pages of Isa's assignment to notice, periodically underlining and making a note in the margins. Isa took the time to look around the professor's place. The overall architecture relied heavily on dark, mahogany wood emphasized by the desk and bookcase behind it. Isa spotted a few authors amongst the otherwise academic books, from Albert Camus to Gabriel García Márquez. Opposite the door were large, paned windows that overlooked other lit-up collegiate buildings. Lastly, ther

Jason had some sort of look in his eyes when she caught his gaze. "You mean the blonde with highlights?" He raised an eyebrow questioningly. Maya nodded but replied when she saw he wasn't looking, "He's the one." The professor looked up from his paperwork again. His glasses were perched at the tip of his nose. "He didn't look the least bit suspicious." Maya scoffed, then uncrossed her legs and stood, "Did I mention that you look absolutely horrible?" She sauntered to his table, letting her hips sway seductively.

—he chuckled—“…being called baby.” Selly felt her knees weaken. The world spun. Her lips parted, but no words came out. Alex set the phone down, opened the gallery again, and flipped through several videos before holding the screen toward her. Footage. Blurry hotel hallway surveillance. Renata’s voice: “Professor!” followed by a breathy moan and the sound of furniture shifting. Below it—another clip. Renata stepping out of the bathroom that morning, wrapped in a towel, Alex kissing her neck from behind.

You are welcome. I pull up my email. There is a video file. Time-stamped three months ago. David on camera, talking to someone off screen: “If I can’t have Elena, I will destroy her and I will destroy anyone she tries to move on with. Starting with that professor she can’t stop staring at in class.” My hands shake as I show Mateo. “He planned this.” Mateo’s voice is hollow. “All of it. From the beginning.” The nurses are wheeling David out on a gurney. Security is clearing the room.

It hasn’t been lived in in so long. “Are you sure you’re only charging fifty?” The woman, who was called Lee, asked from the doorway. He was referred by his friend Marlon to this woman, a co-worker from the restaurant. Apparently, she has amnesia and money was an issue to her since she woke up from the hospital.

Bronze. Like I’m in some twisted game of Clue. Guess it’s Quinn, with the candlestick, in the sitting room. The plan is simple: Knock Pablo out. Steal his wallet, phone, and keys. Stomp on his balls. Get the fuck out of here. I move through the shadows, silent on bare feet. I raise the candlestick—ready to swing— And somehow… he sees me. Maybe it was the reflection in the window, maybe a flicker of movement. But our eyes lock at the same time I swing—

My pulse quickened at the image. The thought of her hands holding that slip of paper, eyes flicking up to catch mine from across the room… it made my chest tighten in ways that were entirely unprofessional.I felt like a teenager again. This was stupid. And yet, I couldn’t resist it. Couldn’t resist her. Marc clapped me on the back. “Alright, professor, you’ve got your plan. Now it's time to have fun, and don’t let your own desire make this messy.” I grinned, drained the rest of my drink, and pushed myself up from the booth. “Subtle, safe… and just a little bit inevitable,” I muttered under my breath.