Read Online The Dark of Day by Barbara Parker - Free Book Online Page A

malaria, dengue fever, and impotence, I expect.” He squinted at the label. “What does this say?”
    She read, “Bitter orange from Tanzania, African marigold, Sicilian lemons, pure cane sugar.”
    â€œI was going to do a taste-test tonight. Want to join in?”
    â€œNo, thanks.”
    Black brows rose. “This gin cost me a hundred and twenty dollars a bottle.”
    â€œI’ll try the tonic.”
    â€œSuit yourself.” He brought her an ice-filled glass with a lime wedge, then opened the tonic and poured.
    She tasted it. “Nice.”
    He set out two shot glasses and filled the first with the Dutch gin. “It’s not for you. Just taste mine. One drop won’t hurt. Don’t be a pussy. I need your opinion.”
    â€œOne sip.” She lifted the tiny glass, sniffed, then wet her lips. “This is the Van Wees? Smooth. But worth that price? I don’t think so.”
    He finished it off, then breathed in. “Oh, yes. Good stuff.” He filled the next with the gin from London. “Now. Let us try the Martin Miller’s.”
    C.J. turned her head. The longing had come on her so fast she felt dizzy. “Billy, I’d rather not.”
    â€œYou don’t go to meetings anymore. I haven’t seen you take a drink in a year. What are you trying to prove?”
    â€œThis is bad for me, what you’re doing.”
    â€œSorry.” He picked up the other shot glass. He sipped, rolling the gin around in his mouth. She could see it wasn’t fun for him, drinking alone. He said, “I vote for the Van Wees. Since you’re being a Girl Scout, what can I get for you?”
    â€œI’ll have a Diet Coke or something.”
    â€œOn the rocks?”

    â€œHa-ha.” She cut a few slices of cheddar. “Why do you think Shelby wants me to take this case? Milo says he has no financial interest in The Aquarius. Is that true?”
    â€œAs far as I know,” Billy said as he brought back her cola.
    â€œYou think he’s trying to ingratiate himself with the environmentalists?”
    â€œI’m sure that’s part of it, but he believes this project will be good for Miami, good for development statewide.”
    â€œSince when did you trust a politician?”
    â€œSince never. So what?”
    â€œTell me about Donald Finch,” she said.
    â€œDon produced a little comedy set on South Beach a few years back. It wasn’t bad, got into the Miami Film Festival. I see him around occasionally, when he can sneak away from the ball and chain.” Billy eyeballed his glass and poured in a practiced ounce-and-a-half measure of gin, then filled the glass with tonic. He squeezed the lime wedge and let it drop.
    â€œIs he rich?”
    â€œHe used to be. The Finches were prominent in New York City, but Don left town after a dispute with his father, who is now dead. Jesus, this is good. Nearly perfect. I give it a ninety-seven out of a hundred. I don’t suppose you want to—”
    â€œNo,” she said. “Back to Donald Finch. Noreen told me he studied film in L.A.”
    â€œThat he did. Donald took his inheritance and went to Hollywood. He lived large for a while but didn’t accomplish much. That was before you went west. He slunk back to New York, I believe, bounced around on various low-budget productions, and finally wound up in Miami doing PR for the tourist board. Then he met Noreen Shelby. She’s older. She’s ancient, in fact, but he had what she wanted, a pedigree. He’d like to do more independent films, but Noreen controls the funding. She wants him to do a project on Paul Shelby’s rise to fame and glory. So far, it’s pretty short.”
    C.J. asked, “Where did Noreen get her money? Her family raised saddle horses in Wyoming.”
    â€œHer first husband, Paul Shelby’s father, was big in commercial real estate. He left a very rich widow.”

    â€œAs