Murder's No Votive Confidence by Christin Brecher

Author:Christin Brecher
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2019-04-11T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

“Get out of town,” I said as a small dinghy made its way to the water’s edge.

“Surprise,” said Peter. He was wearing a tuxedo, of all things, in a dinghy. “You’re a vision. Last time I saw you, I remember leaves in your hair and a little dirt on your cheek.”

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” I said. I was happy to see that Peter had not compromised his afternoon’s fly-by-the-seat-of-his pants look. His tuxedo pants were shoved into rubber boots, and his bow tie was a red bandana.

“I heard you were working the Melville tonight,” he said, shutting off his motor. “I called your cousin Liz. My luck I should find you standing here when I pulled up.”

He smiled like he had been very, very clever and I smiled back. It was so awesome that this outfit would not go to waste after all. I’d have to thank Liz for giving Peter her card.

“Champagne?” he said, raising a bottle and jumping out of his boat. He tied the dinghy to a rock, flipped off his jacket, and laid it on my shoulders without my having to ask.

“Ha,” I said about the champagne. “I haven’t eaten since Andy and I were at The Bean at about ten this morning. One glass of champagne and I’ll faint.”

“No worries,” said Peter. He jumped back into his boat and pulled out a picnic basket.

“My hero,” I said.

“Really? Even after this afternoon’s kerfuffle?”

“Did you just say kerfuffle?”

“I did,” he said and laid a blanket on the ground.

I pulled his jacket around me as Peter laid out a platter of cheese and bread and meats that made my stomach leap for joy. I tried to join him on the ground as elegantly as possible. In the end, I did no justice to my couture. I had to hike my skirt to my thighs before I could bend my knees.

“So much for being a movie star,” I said, settling down next him. “My outfit, by the way, is compliments of Gina Ginelli.”

“Come on,” said Peter, handing me a cracker with a glob of brie on it that was to die for. I swallowed it whole.

“She’s pretty nice, actually,” I said. “My dress didn’t show up tonight. She’d stopped by the inn and heard me complaining. Then she offered me something to wear.”

“Pretty fancy dress for someone holed up here to work,” said Peter. “I wonder if there’s a big party going down this weekend that she’s planning to attend.”

“Better than the Sterling wedding or a FIGAWI bash? I doubt it,” I said. “She blamed her fancy packing job on the fact that she’s a diva.”

“She doesn’t sound like one,” he said. “That’s a nice outfit to loan out.”

“True,” I said, admiring the appliqued flowers across the bodice of my top as I shoved a piece of prosciutto into my mouth. I reached for a piece of Morbier cheese, starting to feel like myself again. Peter noticed I was going for it with his basket of goodies.

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