(2008) Sharp Edges by Jayne Ann Krentz

Author:Jayne Ann Krentz [Krentz, Jayne Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Suspense, General, Contemporary, Mystery & Detective, Literary, Fiction, Romance
ISBN: 9781439154472
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Published: 2008-12-22T05:00:00+00:00

The Neon Sunset was almost entirely deserted. A teenaged waitress dressed in a T-shirt and jeans lounged against the counter, flipping through a copy of a magazine that featured a malnourished model on the cover.

“Ten o’clock in the morning is not a fashionable hour for the artistic crowd.” Eugenia sat down at a small table. “They go in for late nights.”

“That means that the waitress will be bored. Bored people love to talk.”

Eugenia watched Cyrus remove the worn leather jacket he had put on over his aloha shirt and lower himself into a chair. Every action was carried out with the slow, unhurried masculine grace that never failed to intrigue her.

After all this time with him, she still had not seen him make any fidgety or restless movements. He didn’t drum his fingers or swing a foot or tap a toe the way she often did. He never fiddled with spoons or refolded paper napkins into new shapes. He simply commanded the space he inhabited. The man in the photographer’s vest seated at the next table was a lot bigger and bulkier, but it was Cyrus who dominated the room.

“How do we get the waitress onto the subject of Rhonda Price without being obvious?” Eugenia asked.

Cyrus watched the waitress approach. “Something tells me that won’t be a problem.”

Eugenia frowned. “Why not?”

“You’re an overnight celebrity.”

” ‘Morning.” The young woman came to a halt beside the table. She looked at Eugenia with keen interest and snapped her gum. “You’re the lady who jumped into the marina to save Rhonda Price last night, aren’t you?”

“Uh, yes. That’s right.” Eugenia caught Cyrus’s eye. He looked amused. She turned back to the waitress. There was a small name tag on her shirt. It read Heather. “Are you a friend of Rhonda’s?”

“Not exactly. I know her, though. Everyone does. She comes in here a lot. Likes to pretend she’s a real hotshot artist, but I’ve heard Fenella Weeks say she can’t even draw a straight line.”

“I don’t agree,” Eugenia said smoothly. “I bought one of Rhonda’s paintings. It’s very, very good.”

Heather shrugged with complete disinterest. “I’m not, like, really into art, y’know? I just work here.”

“No kidding.” Cyrus smiled at her. “I thought maybe you were an artist, yourself.”

“Nah.” She blushed. “Not hardly. My Dad says if I get mixed up with that crowd while I’m workin’ here, he’ll make me quit my job.”

“He doesn’t approve of the local bohemian community?” Eugenia asked.

“Don’t know about bohemians, but he doesn’t think much of artists. Says they’re all lazy. Won’t get real jobs. He says the only thing they want to do is get high and party. Says the island was a nicer place before Adam Daventry set up the art colony. Personally, I think it was kind of a boring place.”

“Does Rhonda like to party, too?”

“Oh, sure. She used to go up to Glass House all the time,” Heather said. “She and Mr. Daventry had a thing going for a while. Boy, was she pissed when he dropped her to take up with that artist from Seattle.

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