Girl on the Prowl by G. G. Fickling

Author:G. G. Fickling
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: PageTurner Editions LLC

Chapter ten

THE NEWPORT BAY CLUB stretches along a narrow channel of water forty miles south of Los Angeles. Across from it, on a piece of flat sand that once was the litter ground for paper plates and empty beer bottles, is fabulous Lido Isle, land of two hundred thousand dollar homes, minks, yachts and fancy-label booze.

As I drove down from Newport Heights, I could see the lights of Lido and the four-mile-long bay winking feverishly in the warm night. Along the waterfront were the sleek masts of tomorrow's racing fleet, rising from the dark water like glistening candy sticks, swaying slightly from the bay's stir, mainsail bulbs winking brightly.

Kirq Tempest was waiting outside the club's main entrance. He took my suitcase and grinned.

"Hey, this is heavy," he said. "Didn't I tell you only fun clothes and swim suits."

I shrugged, winking. "Brought along a few bricks just in case a certain party gets the idea this voyage is for fun only."

He checked my suitcase at the desk and led me into the bar. People were jammed elbow to elbow, some laughing, some shouting, all clutching a glass, or an arm, or a mink. Male apparel ran the gamut from tuxedos to white duck English-style sailor suits. Elegant cocktail dresses and glittering jewels for the female set, or lavish cashmere sweaters and expensive tailored skirts. There wasn't a gold mask or Egyptian helmet in sight.

"Where's Jewel?" I asked.

Kirq's thick brows lifted contemptuously. "She's here, don't worry. Sister and I were having a toe-to-toe chat just a minute ago. She found out about Sheriff's deputies searching the house and she's fit to be tied."

"I'll bet," I said, bumping against a handsome man with thick shoulders and silver-streaked black hair. He was even taller than Kirq and his face bore the sallow whiteness of too much after-shave talc. "Excuse me!"

He scanned the front of my blue linen sheath with obvious admiration, then looked into my eyes. "The pleasure's all mine, Ma'm. Where I come from they call this a fortuitous acquaintanceship. Allow me to introduce myself. The name is Greg—"

"Not now, friend," Kirq interrupted. "Can't you see we're in a hurry to join our party?"

The huge man flicked his eyes on Kirq witheringly. 'Down where I come from, sir, a gentleman don't interrupt another's conversation. Where's your manners?"

Kirq ignored the question, resuming his push on my arm. He got no more than an inch before one of the big man's thick hands had him in a vise.

"I asked you a question, sir," he said quietly through his teeth. "Now are you going to answer politely or am I going to ask you to step outside?"

Kirq whirled, face whitening as he stared up at the other man. Suddenly his hand slipped from my arm, jerking upward into the stomach opposite, a clean powerful stroke that sank knuckle-deep into the tuxedo coat and flesh underneath, a blow so short and swift that only the three of us knew that a punch had been thrown.

The big man

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