Read Online Black Moonlight by Amy Patricia Meade - Free Book Online

in; he said he wanted to speak with me.”
    “I’m not surprised. He was on a real tear last night,” Creighton frowned. “So was I, come to think of it.”
    “He made you angry, Creighton, that’s all,” she excused. “I half-expected to get into an argument with him myself. I thought he’d accuse me of being a fraud or phony, like he’d done to everyone else. Only he didn’t. Instead, he asked me for my professional opinion.”
    “Opinion? Regarding what?”
    “He believed someone wanted to kill him.”
    “I’d say he called that one right,” Creighton cracked. “Did you tell him that if he were nicer to people he wouldn’t have had that problem?”
    Marjorie pulled a face and folded her arms across her chest.
    “No? No,” Creighton deduced. “Did he give any hint as to who might want to kill him or why?”
    Marjorie shook her head. “Not exactly. The day before yesterday, he had found a rather menacing note on his desk. The note had been typed and bore no signature. However, it had to have been put on his desk by someone in this house. In addition, a brief inspection of the ribbon on the typewriter in your father’s office proved that the note had been typed on that very machine.”
    “Father never locked that office door. All of his confidential documents were stored in the safe or hidden away.” Creighton sighed. “Which means that anyone could have gone in and typed that note.”
    “Precisely.”
    “Did he notify the police? They might have been able to dust the typewriter for prints.”
    “No, he didn’t want the police involved, nor did he put much faith in their abilities. Instead, he went to a solicitor yesterday morning, and had him draw up a new will.”
    “You mean he was serious about that?” Creighton asked in disbelief.
    “I didn’t see the new will myself, but I believe he was telling the truth,” Marjorie averred. “He assumed that the writer of the note was after his money; he thought he’d remove the money and with it, remove the threat. Your father believed that he had created an ‘insurance policy’ safeguarding against the note writer taking any further action.”
    “Apart from qualifying himself as the greatest prophet since Custer predicted he was going to surround all those Indians, did he tell you anything else?”
    “That his new will names you as his sole heir,” Marjorie stated.
    “Me? You’re joking. Why would he—?”
    “He had to name someone. You weren’t on the island, so you couldn’t possibly have left the note,” she explained.
    “And you? What did he expect you to do?”
    “Despite all his machinations regarding the will, your father was still frightened. He must have sensed that the writer of the note was motivated by more than mere money. I think he consulted me because he wanted someone to confirm his fears, and because he needed someone to know the truth in case …”
    “Swell. You know the truth and can pass it along to the police. Problem solved. No need for you to get involved in the investigation. No need to get your hands dirty.” He punctuated the statement by wiping his hands together.
    “You don’t understand. Your father was murdered the same day he named you as the sole inheritor of his estate. On the precise day that you and I arrived in Bermuda. Creighton, the police are going to consider you the primary suspect.”
    His jaw dropped. “But the note,” he argued.
    “There’s only your father’s word that he received it when he did.” Marjorie threw her hands up in the air. “What am I saying? We don’t even have that anymore. It’s my word only and I have something of a vested interest in seeing that you stay out of prison.”
    Creighton reached into the kitchen cupboards and pulled out a large serving platter. He took a well-formed scone from the cooling rack, placed it on the platter and handed it to Marjorie with a broad grin.
    “Just in case,” he explained. “Not that I think we’ll need it. You’re