The Westing Game Novels & Stories

Men like this only think with one part of their body. I cover my mouth and giggle, fluttering my eyelids at the intimidating blonde man."I'm just a girl taking a swim in the pool. Who are you?" The man's face morphs into a terrifying glare, his arms shooting out and grabbing my body out of the pool. "Don't play with me, girl! Do you know who's estate this is or who I am? I'm Evander Weston, son of Noe Weston-the boss of the Weston Syndicate! In case you haven't gathered, you are trespassing on Weston Territory!" My heart flutters at his revelation. Fuck! Of all the syndicate henchman to run across, I had to cross Weston's son? Before I can think of a reply, Evander grabs a gun from one of th

After the taxi left, Wilson kept thinking about the driver’s words. It was 8 p.m. when West returned from training. After he showered and ate dinner, he was playing on his PlayStation when Wilson knocked on the door. “Yo, come in,” West said, his eyes fixed on the screen as his fingers worked the controller. The door creaked open. West glanced toward it, then looked back at the TV. “What’s up, bro?” Wilson replied seriously, “Can you pause the game? We need to talk.” “Oh.” West sounded surprised by his brother’s stern tone. He set the controller down and turned to him. “You seem serious. Nobody died, right?”

A bowling alley. “This whole thing rubs me the wrong way. You see that they’re opening up on Halloween? It’s right on their posters, like they’re celebrating twenty years to the day.” I finished the sandwich and looked down to find my spoon so I could scrape up all the meat that was left in the wax paper. I scooped a bite into my mouth, and looked up to see James West walking across the street. He moved with purpose up the block, and ducked around the corner and into a storefront with no windows.

His jaw was clenched in anger as the referee separated them. I had not replied to a single one of his messages since Bloodpine Ridge. Not the soft check ins. Not the nervous, rambling updates. Not the one he had sent last night that only said: Are you coming to the game? I had even ignored the driver who had shown up outside Silverwood dorm tonight to take Maya and me to West Oak for the game. I had watched the car from the dorm window until it disappeared down the road. The game started fast. West Oak played aggressively, their defense pressing tight, forcing Ravencrest into quick decisions. The camera kept swinging between the two sides.

But there was so much more behind it potentially. “Breaking news: Cadence Mattison has to admit, she was wrong. That maybe, the Goddess knows what she’s doing. Stay tuned to find out if she’s too late.” Weston: Hey beautiful, sorry we were gone this morning, pack business so we had to go. Do you want to ride together tonight or were you going with Valerie? We’ll have to come back here after the game to get dressed. I can’t wait to see you dolled up.

Westin's eyes flicked up to the stage, directly at me. I swallowed. That wasn't possible. I was completely blacked out, no way could he see me. The man said something else again and Westin made a face that I could've sworn looked like he'd murder the next person to walk past him before he gave an almost imperceptible nod to his colleague. The man straightened, looked up to the stage and held up a green paddle labeled 78. "122! We've got 122, do I see anyone for 125? Going once. Going twice. Last chance, this young, impressionable little werewolf cub for only $125,000! Sold! To patron 78 for $122,000.