The Sign of Four Spirits by Vicki Delany

Author:Vicki Delany
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CROOKED LANE BOOKS

Chapter Fourteen

As long as I had my investigator’s hat on …

The police say most cases need to be solved quickly, or they’re never solved. People leave town, overlooked (but vital) evidence is disturbed, memories fade. Other matters take priority.

The Greenwoods would soon be leaving West London, if they hadn’t already. I didn’t have phone numbers for them, and I didn’t know where they were staying.

Ryan would have that information, but it fell under those pesky details about which he took confidentiality seriously.

The one thing I did know about them was that they’d docked their boat at the Cape Cod Yacht Club, which just happens to be not far at all. It was shortly after nine, not too late to try and hunt them down.

I drove north on Harbor Road, and shortly before leaving the boundaries of West London, I arrived at the entrance to the club. I’d been here before, once with Jayne to meet with the events coordinator to make arrangements for her wedding reception, and earlier in pursuit of a “case.” The most recent visit resulted in a successful meeting at which Jayne and I left confident the club was the perfect place to host her important day. At the conclusion of the earlier incident, if it had been up to Louise Estrada, I’d have been arrested for stealing a boat, kidnapping the pilot, and imitating a police officer. Fortunately, calmer heads prevailed and, considering I had successfully apprehended the guilty party, my minor indiscretions were overlooked. It was after nine o’clock, but it was July, and the place was busy. I parked among a collection of expensive vehicles, both flashy and subdued, climbed the steps, and strolled into the building as though I belonged here. I could hear a band playing in one of the banquet rooms and the sounds of people having a good time. A wedding, most likely, judging by the dresses and shoes worn by a group of women I passed on my way in, already digging in their tiny, bejeweled evening bags for cigarettes and lighters.

The lobby bar was full, as was the spacious veranda on the far side of a wall of glass looking out over the sea. I approached the young man, nicely dressed in a white shirt and a blue blazer displaying the club’s logo, standing behind the reception desk with a broad smile on his handsome face.

“Good evening.” I raised my voice an octave and increased the strength of my accent. “So sorry to bother you. I’m looking for a guest here, but…” I gave an embarrassed giggle. “I seem to have lost her phone number.”

He flashed a row of blindingly white teeth at me. “How do you think I can be of help, Madam?”

“Her name’s Larissa Greenwood. She and her husband Max have docked their boat here. I mean, that’s what she told me, anyway.” I fluttered my eyelashes and giggled once more. “They’re from Boston. Their boat’s from Boston. They’re not. I mean, they are now, but not originally.

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