Into the Clouds by Marilyn Leach

Author:Marilyn Leach
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: christian Fiction
ISBN: 9781611164329
Publisher: Pelican Ventures Book Group
Published: 2014-05-26T16:00:00+00:00

9

Berdie snuggled into the comfortable armchair, one of several sprinkled throughout the club drawing room, opened her book, and waved Hugh and Grayson Webb on their way to the men’s changing room and a relaxing swim. “Now you must enjoy yourselves for as long as you please,” Berdie insisted.

Ten minutes in, Berdie decided it was time.

Hugh and Grayson would now be pacing their strokes through the water.

She wasn’t entirely sure just what she was looking for, but she had the sense she would know when she found it. A ripple of enthusiasm surged within and she launched into a walk about.

What first? “Outdoor terrace,” she whispered.

Lavish garden furniture held an abundance of lovelies in skimpy attire, both men and women, soaking up the sun. Many didn’t even appear to have stuck so much as a toe in the swimming pool. And it would seem a flirty air permeated the gathered bunch. But then it was late spring, after all.

Passing an especially amorous fellow who ogled her, Berdie coughed, bringing her left hand to her mouth where she hoped he could clearly see her wedding band. It didn’t seem to detract his stare. Whatever insight she was seeking, she was sure this patio did not hold it, and became suddenly aware she was quite peckish. She’d not had anything to eat since her pot of tea with Hugh at the Copper Kettle. Just a quick bite of something would do, and she could return to her task at hand. “Excuse me,” she spoke to a couple strolling past. “Is there a café here?”

The woman took her gaze off her companion just long enough to offer a brief--”Main entrance, next to the indoor pool”--and moved on.

“Sorry to have troubled,” Berdie offered. When Berdie found it, the glass door to the café, which read “Healthy spoken here” was held open for her by a gentlemen, who by his gear, was a member of the bowls team. As she made way to the bar where smoothies and other treats were being served up, she felt rather conspicuously overdressed in the trousers and blouse that had suited her morning outing.

Conversations spun from the tables of people enjoying fine fare along a glass wall that overlooked the indoor pool.

Then she spotted a familiar face.

Preston Graystone, Aidan Kirkwood’s own solicitor, sat at a table. Leaning back in his chair with legs extended, the widower and father of Cara Graystone Donovan was swathed in what looked to be a very large bath towel, but indeed, was a sort of robe. Its soft texture stood in stark contrast to Mr. Graystone’s angular fifty-something features.

With him was a woman who looked to be close to his age, gray-blond hair swept up and fastened. Her long legs were crossed beneath a short rose-colored wrap that only half covered her white bathing costume. Both she and Preston sipped what looked to be some sort of tomato juice cocktails, chatting as if seated seaside on the Costa del Sol.

Berdie’s intrigue about Mr. Graystone and friend pulled her like a giant magnet and she approached their table.

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