Death on Demand 15 - Murder Walks the Plank by Carolyn Hart

Author:Carolyn Hart [Hart, Carolyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-02-02T05:00:00+00:00

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Carolyn Hart

Pudge looked at her in surprise. Max fished in his bowl for whiting, his expression skeptical.

Annie focused her attention on Pudge. Max could continue in his stubborn male fashion to think Pamela’s fall was an accident. She knew better. “You see”—her voice was earnest, and this was true so it sounded well—“Cole was on the upper deck where Pamela went overboard.” Her enthusiasm grew. She would do her best at some point in the conversation to urge Cole to give Pudge a chance, but what a heaven-sent opportunity to talk to the person who had been nearest Pamela when she went overboard. “I want to find out as much as I can about the circumstances. I feel I owe it to Pamela’s family. I’ll get in touch with Cole later today.”

Pudge’s rounded face re-formed from sadness to gratitude, his gray eyes glowing, his lips curving in a smile.

Annie tried not to look as stricken as she felt. It was terribly unlikely that she could make a difference in Pudge’s effort to forge a relationship with Cole. Always prone to impulsive actions, she clapped her hands together. “And we’ll invite Sylvia and Cole over to dinner Friday night. Max can grill hamburgers.”

“Oh, that’s great, Annie.” Pudge looked upbeat, excited. “I’ll tell Sylvia and Cole to bring their swimsuits.” Some of the eagerness seeped from his face.

“Yeah. If he comes home. But you’ll make it happen, I know you will. Annie, you’re the best.” He was up and out of his chair, flinging his napkin on the table. He pulled out his wallet, dropped two twenties on the table. “That’ll take care of lunch. And have some pineapple upside-down cake for dessert.” Pudge knew Murder Walks the Plank

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what Annie loved. “I’ve got to let Sylvia know.” Pudge grabbed Annie’s hands for a quick squeeze. “She’ll be so happy.” He bent, kissed the top of Annie’s head, whispered, “Thank you, honey.” He strode away from the table, almost breaking into a run, ducking around waiting customers and out the door.

Annie avoided looking at Max. She picked up her sandwich, took a bite. It was as delicious as usual, but she needed more than succulent flounder to revive her spirits. There was a lengthy pause. Max spooned. She bit and chewed.

Max poured the last of his beer. “I suppose”—his tone was conversational—“that you have a plan. Some way to change Cole’s attitude, bring him home, convince him that Pudge is a great guy?”

Annie determinedly ate.

“No? Problem is, I don’t think the earth is going to open up and swallow either one of us.” He sighed. “So between now and Friday night, we’ve got to come up with a miracle.”

Sweat trickled down Annie’s face. Her blouse stuck to her. All the car windows were down and the sea breeze swept over her, but that wasn’t much comfort on an August afternoon. Usually she got out and leaned against the railing as the ferry chugged steadily across the Sound toward the mainland, watching the laughing

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