Lanyon, Josh - Adrien English 04 - Death of a Pirate King by Death of a Pirate King

Author:Death of a Pirate King [King, Death of a Pirate]
Language: deu
Format: epub
Published: 2011-04-04T16:52:23+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

The faded marina sign was missing an uppercase O. But Watch for Posing Drivers! seemed pretty good advice given the number of Mercedes driven by guys in yacht caps.

I parked and walked past the clubhouse and Olympic-sized swimming pool. Gaily colored pennants whipped overhead. Gulls mewed, swooping and diving over the bobbing pier. The smell of ocean and diesel permeated the air; sunlight glittered blindingly on the blue water.

It looked like a good day to be out on the high seas. Or the low seas. The harbor was already full of boats heading out toward the breakwater -- and even the vessels moored at the dock seemed to be crowded with mateys intent on enjoying the sunshine, salt air, and -- in more than a few cases -- the hair of the dog.

I found the slip number Kane had given me without trouble. His luxury yacht, Pirate’s Gambit, was a sleek seventy-eight-footer with a black hull. A pirate flag flapped briskly on the bow.

“Avast ye!”

I looked up and Kane was leaning over the railing, a bottle of champagne -- very expensive champagne at that -- in one hand. He was smiling down at me. Not for the first time I was struck by how really attractive he was. He had it all, really -- well, all that Hollywood cared about: looks, charm, personal magnetism.

And he wasn’t a bad actor, either. I wondered if his bold and unapologetic sexuality had anything to do with the fact that he wasn’t a bigger star.

I walked up the boarding ramp and Kane came agilely down the ladder from the upper deck to greet me.

“Perfect timing,” he said, lightly squeezing my shoulder as he moved past me. “Everyone’s topside. Go say hello.”

I climbed the ladder to the smaller open deck. “Everyone” turned out to be Valarie Rose and Al January comfortably ensconced in lounge chairs. They were drinking champagne and arguing amiably. Valarie wore an emerald green swimsuit, and January wore orange shorts and some kind of Aztec print sports shirt.

“Welcome aboard,” Valarie called. “I hope you brought your swimsuit. I feel a little underdressed.”

I sat down in a blue and white striped deck chair. “Sorry,” I said. The breeze off the water was chilly, but the sun felt good. Not so good that I was tempted to take my clothes off, but pleasant.

“How’s the investigation going?” January asked, pouring a glass of champagne and handing it to me.

I murmured thanks, took a sip, and set the glass next to the railing. “I don’t think the police are ready to make an arrest,” I said. “But it’s not like they’re keeping me up to date.”

Although my Friday night meet with Jake had been surprisingly close to it.

“I can’t imagine what the holdup is,” Valarie said. She was attractive in a no-nonsense way: good figure, good bones, good teeth, good skin. “We all know who did it.”

January gave her a tolerant look. “Then I guess the holdup is, the police don’t have enough evidence to make their case yet.

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