Read Online Reading Up a Storm by Eva Gates - Free Book Online Page B

fled our approaching footsteps. Butch dug into his pocket and pulled out two granola bars. He handed one to me without a word. I accepted it, tore the wrapper off, tucked the trash away, and took a big bite. I’d have coffee and breakfast later before getting dressed for work.
    â€œSo,” Butch said, “you think Stephanie might come to book club next time?”
    â€œShe might,” I said. “She seemed to enjoy it. If you don’t chase her away.”
    â€œI’ll try to be behave myself. Although I can’t imagine a defense attorney being afraid of a little argument.”
    The path wound through the long grasses of the marsh, heading for the warm shallow waters of the sound. A small boat dock sits at the edge where people can tie up their boats before taking a walk. The marsh is a popular spot, good for bird-watching and nature hikes, but this morning we were the only people in the area.
    We were a few feet from the shoreline when I said, “Time to turn back.”
    â€œHold on a sec. I think there’s a boat at the dock.”
    â€œSo?” I said. “Plenty of people tie up here to go for a walk or do some bird-watching.”
    â€œYeah,” Butch said, “but no one’s around. Kids come out sometimes at night. Sometimes they get themselves into trouble. I want to check it out.”
    â€œBe careful,” I said. I tiptoed behind him. Butch’s broad back was so big, I couldn’t see around him, but I made no move to see better. I figured that if a ten-foot-long alligator protested the interruption of his breakfast, he’d have Butch to contend with first. I had no doubt it would be a fair fight.
    We were only a couple of feet from the water’s edge when Butch stopped so abruptly I crashed into him. The impact was sorta like my Yaris coming into contact with a speeding freight train.
    â€œWhat the . . . ?” I said.
    â€œWhoa!” Butch stretched out his arms, holding me back.
    â€œWhat is it?” I said, trying to peer around him despite my better instincts. “Is someone down there? Have they been doing something yucky?”
    â€œNot yucky, no. Go back to the lighthouse, Lucy.”
    â€œWhy?” I can be stubborn sometimes.
    â€œBecause I said so.” The tone of his voice meant he was not kidding. If I didn’t know better, I’d have said he’d gone into cop mode. Without another word to me, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and punched a button.
    â€œThis is Officer Butch Greenblatt with the Nags Head PD. I have a situation at the Bodie Island Lighthouse. I need officers, including a detective, and an ambulance.”
    He
had
gone into cop mode.
    I stepped off the path and peered over the edge. A small flat-topped open fishing boat with a two-strokeoutboard motor was tied up to the wooden pilings and bobbing gently in the calm waters of the sound. A large black crow, perched on the bow like the figurehead on a sailing ship of old, was telling me to go away.
    A man lay in the bottom of the boat, a ball cap lying across his face as though he was taking a nap. I opened my mouth to ask him if he was okay. Nothing but a squeak came out as the cloud in my head cleared and I realized that this was a forever nap. The blade of a knife pierced the center of his chest. His arms were thrown out, and his gold Rolex caught the light of the morning sun. Most of his face was covered but, as well as the watch, I recognized the square chin, and short, stocky body of William Williamson.

Chapter 6
    â€œNot again!” Bertie said as she ran through the front door of the library.
    I looked up from my mug of hot tea. Charles was curled on my lap, his comforting bulk a welcome presence. He meowed at Bertie as if to say, “Yes! Again!”
    Bertie must have come straight from her studio. She was dressed in sleek black yoga pants with a turquoise stripe down the leg and a matching sleeveless shirt. Bare