Read Online A Dangerous Harbor by R.P. Dahlke - Free Book Online
Authors: R.P. Dahlke
Tags: Romantic Mystery
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also wasn't one of the men who'd bounded up to help her tie up her boat. There was plenty of dock help with Wally and Booth, so why did his boorish behavior chafe? Add boor to bad magician and she had enough reason to want him for the culprit. He was obviously guilty of something.
Now the magician was all jokes and smiles while he flipped cards and delighted the boozy crowd with his sleight of hand. His colorful assistant, a slim whirl of red shimmering sequins on four-inch heels, was fun to watch. She reminded Katy of a wood sprite with her magenta hair cut pixie style, mostly absent light brows and heavily lined big brown eyes. She did her job well, dazzling the drunks and deflecting attention away from the sloppy work of the magician. Most of the crowd was too drunk to notice when he palmed and layered a card so that it appeared on the top of the deck.
Her dad used to do card tricks in chambers to diffuse angry confrontations. "Material witnesses popping up in the middle of a trial?" he'd ask, clucking his tongue and leaning over the desk to draw a card from behind a lawyerly ear. "Disclosure is the law. That way we can all see the tricks each of you has hiding behind your ears, right?"
With a lurch of her heart, she could only wish her dad were here to critique the magician's work. Anyone who wasn't falling down drunk could tell this guy had just slipped that birdcage out from under the stand.
On his worst day, and towards the end of the cancer, her dad was way better than this guy. Despite a howling air conditioner, Katy yawned at the close warmth of too many bodies and too little sleep. Booth, Myne and the Howards, she noticed, had already disappeared so she might as well call it a night.
She stepped out of the overcrowded salon and into the sweeter night air. Feeling better, she headed for the stern exit, but at the last moment decided to do a little reconnaissance, walk off the liquor she never touched and skirt the perimeter for an unlocked door. With no one to say she couldn't, she took the steps to the lower level. This level would be the bedrooms. Maybe she could find where Chief Inspector Vignaroli and his police found Spencer Bobbitt stretched out and unconscious with blood on his hands.
She ambled along the deck, glancing into each dark window until a porthole illuminated the night like an attractive spotlight. Naturally she leaned forward to peer inside.
The room was mostly unfurnished, lit with overhead fluorescents; lockers sprouted along one wall and diving equipment hung off another. A semi-circle of men, most of them sleekly well-fed and middle-aged, lounged in arm chairs with drinks and cigars filling their hands. The group had the look of pigeons about to be given the ubiquitous condo sales pitch as they puffed and drank and waited the plucking. A drumbeat pulsed against the glass of the porthole and a short blonde, her back to the window, slid into the room wearing white heels and a childish ruffled pink gingham dress. The dress may have been childish, but there was no mistaking her curtsy. To their roar of delight the dress came off her shoulders in one pull and was kicked out of range and she turned around to wriggle her bare ass at the men. Without the red dress, Myne was a rounded, pink confection right out of a Donatello masterpiece.
Seeing enough to know what came next, Katy backed away and bumped into something solid, and from the boozy breath on her neck, a drunk. Heavy hands landed on her shoulders and then a voice said, "You mush be the new girl."
Katy froze. She didn't recognize the voice but she wasn't looking forward to fighting off a drunk when she might have to face him in the next couple of days.
The hands slid around to grope at her breasts as his mouth slobbered wet kisses down her neck. " Whad'ya shay we take it to my cabin?"
Without turning around she jammed her elbows down to break his hold. Then redistributing her weight, lifted a heel and came down hard on his instep.
Now the magician was all jokes and smiles while he flipped cards and delighted the boozy crowd with his sleight of hand. His colorful assistant, a slim whirl of red shimmering sequins on four-inch heels, was fun to watch. She reminded Katy of a wood sprite with her magenta hair cut pixie style, mostly absent light brows and heavily lined big brown eyes. She did her job well, dazzling the drunks and deflecting attention away from the sloppy work of the magician. Most of the crowd was too drunk to notice when he palmed and layered a card so that it appeared on the top of the deck.
Her dad used to do card tricks in chambers to diffuse angry confrontations. "Material witnesses popping up in the middle of a trial?" he'd ask, clucking his tongue and leaning over the desk to draw a card from behind a lawyerly ear. "Disclosure is the law. That way we can all see the tricks each of you has hiding behind your ears, right?"
With a lurch of her heart, she could only wish her dad were here to critique the magician's work. Anyone who wasn't falling down drunk could tell this guy had just slipped that birdcage out from under the stand.
On his worst day, and towards the end of the cancer, her dad was way better than this guy. Despite a howling air conditioner, Katy yawned at the close warmth of too many bodies and too little sleep. Booth, Myne and the Howards, she noticed, had already disappeared so she might as well call it a night.
She stepped out of the overcrowded salon and into the sweeter night air. Feeling better, she headed for the stern exit, but at the last moment decided to do a little reconnaissance, walk off the liquor she never touched and skirt the perimeter for an unlocked door. With no one to say she couldn't, she took the steps to the lower level. This level would be the bedrooms. Maybe she could find where Chief Inspector Vignaroli and his police found Spencer Bobbitt stretched out and unconscious with blood on his hands.
She ambled along the deck, glancing into each dark window until a porthole illuminated the night like an attractive spotlight. Naturally she leaned forward to peer inside.
The room was mostly unfurnished, lit with overhead fluorescents; lockers sprouted along one wall and diving equipment hung off another. A semi-circle of men, most of them sleekly well-fed and middle-aged, lounged in arm chairs with drinks and cigars filling their hands. The group had the look of pigeons about to be given the ubiquitous condo sales pitch as they puffed and drank and waited the plucking. A drumbeat pulsed against the glass of the porthole and a short blonde, her back to the window, slid into the room wearing white heels and a childish ruffled pink gingham dress. The dress may have been childish, but there was no mistaking her curtsy. To their roar of delight the dress came off her shoulders in one pull and was kicked out of range and she turned around to wriggle her bare ass at the men. Without the red dress, Myne was a rounded, pink confection right out of a Donatello masterpiece.
Seeing enough to know what came next, Katy backed away and bumped into something solid, and from the boozy breath on her neck, a drunk. Heavy hands landed on her shoulders and then a voice said, "You mush be the new girl."
Katy froze. She didn't recognize the voice but she wasn't looking forward to fighting off a drunk when she might have to face him in the next couple of days.
The hands slid around to grope at her breasts as his mouth slobbered wet kisses down her neck. " Whad'ya shay we take it to my cabin?"
Without turning around she jammed her elbows down to break his hold. Then redistributing her weight, lifted a heel and came down hard on his instep.
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