No Grater Danger by Victoria Hamilton

Author:Victoria Hamilton [Hamilton, Victoria]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Mystery, Mysteries & Thrillers
Amazon: B07DJQ4516
Goodreads: 40395974
Publisher: Beyond the Page
Published: 2018-06-19T00:00:00+00:00

• • •

After dumping her tea and using the washroom, with Hoppy staring at her in an unnerving manner, she headed out, carrying her little dog through the foyer and past the café. She looked in as she was passing and stopped dead. Fergus Baird—dressed in his usual eye-catching pastels, mauve and yellow this time, with white leather tasseled loafers—was sitting having lunch with a woman. Well, he wasn’t married, so far as she knew, and a man could have lunch with any woman he wanted to without anything sinister going on, unlike what some folks thought.

However, she did want to talk to him. No time like the present. She asked Edith, Mrs. Stubbs’s significant-other-in-law, as she called it—her son’s live-in girlfriend and co-manager of the inn—to look after Hoppy, and the woman agreed with alacrity. As Jaymie strode away, Edith was coochy-cooing her little dog as if he was a baby.

Baird was still there, and the lunch had taken a more intimate look, with the woman touching his hand, his silvery hair glinting in the soft light as he leaned across the table, speaking to her in hushed tones. Awkward to barge in, but when had that ever stopped her in the past? She was known as nosy and had decided not to fight the reputation.

She approached the table. “Mr. Baird?” she said as the woman snatched her hand away from his. He admitted his identity. Jaymie glanced at his luncheon companion, trying to place her. She looked familiar, an attractive plump woman in her fifties, wearing a wrap top in fall florals and figure-hugging dark gold leggings, with high heels on dainty feet. Or one dainty foot anyway; the other was encapsulated in the kind of boot used when one breaks a leg. Jaymie smiled at her and nodded.

“Can I help you with something?” Baird asked.

“Yes, I . . .” But distracted from her mission, she glanced at the woman again. Something about her was naggingly familiar. She looked again, trying not to stare, but the blonde hair, piled high, with fetching curls dangling, her round cherubic face, right now holding an annoyed expression . . .

“And you are . . . ? I’m sorry, I don’t think we know each other,” Baird said impatiently, though the chilly look in his eyes warned that he did remember her from Wolverhampton.

“We have a couple of mutual friends,” she said, her attention back on Baird. “We met out at the heritage house when you were speaking with Haskell Lockland. And you know Morgan Perry Wallace. You’re . . . friends with her, correct?”

Baird, his tanned, oddly smooth face devoid of emotion, answered, “Yes, we know each other. We both belong to the Wolverhampton Country Club, as does Haskell.”

“And Morgan’s aunt owns the dockside buildings: the feed shop and . . . oh!” She turned to the woman. “The bait shop! You’re Beverly Hastings, right?” Mrs. Hastings was so differently dressed from the last time she had seen her it was no wonder Jaymie hadn’t recognized her.

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