Charmed

Sloane answered with foul-mouthed muttering as he stalked away and disappeared into the crowd of rough men pouring into the saloon, ready for some strong drink and loud talk.

Brad silently swore. Whitkins would undoubtedly confirm that Sloane had been out with him since early morning the day of Lorrie’s assault. He wished he had better news for Ashley. He braced himself to tell her they were still on square one with no leads as to who had wanted to kill her sister.

AFTER A SHOWER and a change of clothes, Ashley made her way down to the family parlor just before dinner time. She chose a navy daytime dress of woven Georgette and added her knit jacket for warmth. Now that she knew she was going to be staying on the island for at least a couple of weeks, she’d need to do some shopping in Portland for some weatherwise clothes.

She made several false choices in the maze of corridors before she found the right stairway down to the first floor and the family sitting room. Ellen was there, chatting away with a young man who sat on the sofa beside her, a drink in his hand.

At Ashley’s appearance, he quickly set down his drink and rose to his feet as his gaze traveled over her.

“This must be Ashley Davis,” he said before Ellen had a chance to introduce them.

“And this is my nephew, Kent,” Ellen said quickly, smiling broadly. “He pops in now and again to say hello.”

“Nice to meet you, Kent,” Ashley responded politely, trying to ignore a sudden dislike for the smiling, deeply tanned Kent. She judged him to be in his late twenties. Tightly stretched knit pants and a shirt hugged his muscular forearms and thighs, and he had an indolent air about him. “Do you live on the island, Kent?”

“Nope. Just passing by.”

“A friend of Kent’s has a yacht he brings up from Long Island,” Ellen explained. “They have a great time with young people partying on the different islands. Sometimes he spends a few days with me.” She added wistfully, “When he and Pamela were growing up, he was here a lot.”

Ashley eased down into a chair opposite the sofa. “I just learned about Pamela’s tragedy. I understand I have her room.”

“I guess Mrs. Mertz thought you’d want to be close to the workroom, like your sister,” Ellen offered.

“Hey, that’s good news that they found her,” Kent said, resuming his seat. “Do they know what happened?”

“Not yet,” Ashley answered evenly. “Had you met Lorrie, Kent?”

Ellen answered before he could. “Oh, yes, they had a couple of nice chats. Kent was telling her about some of the good times he and Pamela had growing up together. She was only a baby when my sister, Samantha, was killed in an automobile accident. Jonathan needed help raising her, so I came to live with the family.” Her voice faltered. “Pamela was like my very own.”

Ashley was ashamed of herself for wanting more details, but the weird way she’d been drawn into the tragedy made it seem very real to her. “An accidental death, was it?”

“Hell, yes,” Kent swore. “Pam wouldn’t take her own life. She was in a snit over the blowup she and Timothy had and got careless. Timothy stomped off and left her. He was with us on the yacht all night. Didn’t hear about her overdose until morning.” He stood up. “I need another drink.”

Ellen glanced at her watch. “There isn’t time, Kent. You can have wine with dinner. We’ll be eating in the family dining room. I understand that Paul Fontaine is going to join us.”

Kent groaned. “Deliver me! I’ll grab something from the kitchen to eat on my way out.”

Ellen looked disappointed but didn’t argue. He stood there waiting as she reached into her sweater pocket, took out an envelope and handed it to him.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.