Murder most frothy by Cleo Coyle

Murder most frothy by Cleo Coyle

Author:Cleo Coyle [Cleo Coyle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Policier
ISBN: 9780425211137
Published: 2006-08-01T03:38:17+00:00


TWELVE

Mike Quinn’s words stayed with me as I closed my cell phone. I’d say your friend David is in danger. I peered through the kitchen window at the shadowy lawn, the white dunes, and the ebony expanse of ocean beyond. Anyone could be lurking out on that shoreline, I realized, lying in wait for David if he were to return home along the beach. Once again he would be an easy target.

I opened the back door and stepped outside. The outer reaches of Long Island were always cooler than Manhattan. Tonight it was almost chilly for a night in early July—temperatures in the middle-seventies, with high humidity, a wet wind off the ocean. Cool and refreshing after long, sweaty hours in the crowded restaurant.

Listening to the dull continuous roar of the incoming surf, I strode across the cedar deck, scanning the grounds for any sign of the guard who’d startled me earlier. The young man must be up front, I concluded, because there was no sign of anyone in the back of the mansion. I followed the stone path down to the shore and crossed the beach. My sneakers were filling with sand, so I kicked them off and hung them over my shoulder by the laces.

Moving along the shoreline, I noticed bright lights farther down the beach. Square paper lanterns the color of fresh blood had been strung along a huge stone patio. They trailed all the way down to the water, lending the pale white sand a reddish hue. In the scarlet glow, I saw knots of people in relaxed poses. The smell of mesquite charcoal drifted toward me on the summer breeze, only to be scattered by a strong cold gust from the ocean. I walked closer and began to hear whiffs of laughter on the air, a tinkling piano.

I turned to scan the beach in the other direction. But all was dark and quiet. This was the only party on the shoreline that I could see, and I concluded this had to be the bash that David was attending.

Yet it didn’t make a lot of sense on the face of it. Unless I was mistaken, this party was taking place on the grounds of The Sandcastle. But Edward Myers Wilson claimed David and Bom Felloes had waged an ugly war over the restaurant space. Since David had never mentioned Bom to me, I assumed things were still chilly between them.

So why was David going to a party at Bom’s home? Was Bom trying to make up with David?…Or was there something more sinister in the invitation?

I was still fairly far from the whirl of activity, and I picked up my pace to get a better view. Apparently, I was not alone in my curiosity. As I drew closer, I heard a sound that was totally out of place. A click of metal on metal, like a rifle being cocked.

I stopped dead, straining my ears.

For a long moment all I heard was the lapping waters and the party’s tinkling piano.



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