A Susan Slutt Mystery: Susan Slutt Solves the Mystery

As they crossed the threshold, they noticed the room had two double beds.

Butch sidled up to Susan and squeezed her arm. “Look, Sue, there’s three of us and only two beds! I think you and I should share, since we’re both girls.”

“Why, yes, that makes sense,” Susan agreed.

Rodd glared at Butch, then grabbed Susan’s other arm. “Don’t do it, Sue! Butch is a dyke who wants to get in your pants. Sleep with me and I’ll protect you!”

“No, Rodd’s the one who wants to get in your pants,” Butch said, returning Rodd’s glare. “Don’t trust him, Sue! I’ll protect you!”

Susan shrugged off both their hands. “Rodd, I don’t know why you think Butch is from Holland. She was born right here in Porkerville, USA! And I can’t imagine why either of you would want to wear my pants. I doubt you could even get them past your hips. But if it means that much to you, you can each have a pair.”

So saying, Susan went to her four matching suitcases, which were stacked next to Rodd’s duffel bag and Butch’s backpack. She extracted two pairs of last season’s jeans and tossed one each to Rodd and Butch. They caught the garments, then stood there with their mouths hanging open.

“Since I’m the series heroine and you’re just my sidekicks,” continued Susan, “it’s only fitting that I have my own bed, and you two can share.”

Butch and Rodd looked at each other, identical expressions of disgust etched upon their features.

“Since my plans for tonight are shot to hell,” Butch said at last, “guess I’ll work out in the motel health club.”

“No, Butch, first we must check out our competition,” Susan said. She thrust a sheet of paper at her chums. “Here’s a page from the desk clerk’s register, which I confiscated while he was fetching our room keys. It lists all the detective teams and the rooms they’re in.”

“Room 1,” Butch read. “Fancy Few, Georgia Payne, and Nerd Knickersoff. Room 2, Ethel Easton and Jean and Weezy Dinah. Room 3, Bitsy and Bobbsey Boobsey and Bunny Hutch Morton. Room 4, Frank and Joe Baccardi and Chet Gorton. Room 5. Nutso Swift, Brick Rant, and Don Snott. Room 6, Dolores Pyne, Jennie McGarrity, and Donna Rockerford. Room 7, Penny and Christopher Dreadful and Mrs. Squeamish. Room 9, Trixie and Mort Bolton and Gingerberry the horse. Room 10, Susan Slutt, Butch Hawkins, and Rodd Turgood.”

“What happened to Room 8?” Rodd inquired.

“That’s David Fawcett-Majors’ room,” Susan explained. “How fortunate we were given the room next to his! We can gain access by knocking on the adjoining wall until we find a secret panel.”

“Or we can gain access by knocking on the door until he lets us in,” said Butch sarcastically.

Susan shook her head sadly. “Oh, Butch, that’s too obvious! A real sleuth never knocks on the front door when she can slip in through a secret panel, find an unlocked window, or disguise herself as a maid and pretend to deliver room service.”

“I don’t care!” Butch retorted stubbornly. “I’m sick of this shit. I’ll just knock on Fawcett-Majors’ door and ask him where he gets off idolizing Fancy Few and trashing the rest of us. Are you with me, Rodd?”

Rodd cast a hopeful glance at Susan. As usual, she ignored him. “Might as well,” Rodd sighed. “It’s not like I’ll get any action here.”

Susan watched them go, her emotions mixed. Although disappointed by her chums’ disloyalty, she felt she could work better without their interference. Unencumbered by her bumbling sidekicks, Susan consulted the list of teams.

“Room 4,” the young sleuth murmured to herself. “The Baccardi Boys are almost as famous as me. Perhaps they’ll help foil Fawcett-Majors’ plan.”

But when Susan reached Room 4, after first changing from her smart blue traveling frock into an equally smart blue casual frock, replacing her dark blue suede pumps with medium blue ones, and adjusting her makeup from evening to nighttime hues, she heard an ominous noise issuing from behind the closed door. Listening carefully, she could make out male voices chanting the words:

“PAR-TY! PAR-TY! PAR-TY!”

“It must be a party,” the clever sleuth deducted.