Read Online Wilmington, NC 05 - Murder On The ICW by Ellen Elizabeth Hunter - Free Book Online
Authors: Ellen Elizabeth Hunter
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know," she shouted, "why you shot my fiancé?"
" Your . . . what?" Melanie stammered.
Fiancé? And that explained something that had been puzzling me, namely, why had Joey Fielding been in the Bitterman house that day? Now I wondered if he had been there to meet Brie.
Brie was on her feet. "My fiancé," she shouted. "Joey Fielding. The man I loved. The man who loved me. The man I was going to marry and spend my life with. Have babies with. Why did you kill him?"
The restaurant deck went silent. Everyone stopped talking, listened and stared. And they recognized Brie. In a second she was going to be mobbed.
I placed my hand firmly on Melanie's thigh. As if to ground her, to hold her down. I increased the pressure of my hand, silently telling her to be careful what she said. To not make a fool of herself.
I could see the control she was exerting over her emotions. "Brie," she said in a reasonable voice, "Joey was my friend. I did not kill him."
Tears in her eyes, Brie protested, "During the summer, when I was on my Australian tour, you were there, always hanging around him. Every time I called you were there!"
"Well, of course, I was there," Melanie said soothingly. "I was his realtor. I found him that fabulous location for his restaurant." She pointed toward Joey's Place with her hand.
"And Brie, he talked about you constantly. He told me all about the engagement and your wedding plans."
I could see what those words cost Melanie, but no one else could. No one knew her the way I did.
For a second Brie seemed unsure of what to say next. "I'm getting out of here," she cried. "Come on, Ali." She turned on her stilettos and marched up the stairs.
Al Shariff stood up, his angry, piercing eyes glaring at Melanie. "She can't work. She can't sing. She's cancelled her London tour. This is costing her a bundle. And it's all your fault."
"Wait a minute," Cam yelled. "You can't talk to her like that."
"Yeah," Jon said. "What don't we all cool off. "
"Cool off! Do you have any idea what she has to pay in fines when she cancels a tour?" He stomped off after Brie.
Bunny jumped up. "Brie! Brie, honey, wait for mommy." And she was off too.
With that, Clay pushed away from the table. "Keep away from my family," he growled at Melanie, and started to go.
I stood up. "Just a minute here," I declared, "you're the one who scheduled this cozy little get-together!"
Clay lumbered off, huffing and puffing as he climbed the stairs.
Melanie buried her face in her hands. Her shoulders were shaking. But when she uncovered her face, I saw she was laughing.
"This is not my life," she blurted. "Someone has stolen my life and replaced it with this nightmare."
"Okay, baby, we're going to leave now," Cam said and got up, taking Melanie's arm.
Jon stood up too and threw some money on the table. "Cheapskate stiffed us for his drinks," he said resentfully.
"This is a nightmare," Melanie repeated. "What else can go wrong?"
Two people were approaching our table. "Oh, no, not them. Not now," I breathed.
10
"Were those the Bittermans we just missed?" David Boleyn asked. "Too bad. Clay and I go way back. Now, what's this I hear about you folks? A friend called me and gave me an earful about what's been going on here while we were out at sea," he continued. "We sailed back to shore as quickly as the boat could get us here."
The "boat" that David Boleyn referred to was an eighty foot yacht named the Crystal Lynne.
Mrs. Crystal Lynne Boleyn was at his side, a Dolly Parton look-alike with flowing platinum blonde hair and implants so big they cleared a path for her. Melanie had clued me in about the breast implants. I need clues about such matters because the truth is I don't have a clue. I just thought Mother Nature had been generous to Crystal Lynne.
Melanie and Crystal embraced and kissed the air at each other's cheeks. "Crystal used to be my dearest friend," Melanie told us, "in our pageant days. How are you, sweetie?"
Crystal said she was
" Your . . . what?" Melanie stammered.
Fiancé? And that explained something that had been puzzling me, namely, why had Joey Fielding been in the Bitterman house that day? Now I wondered if he had been there to meet Brie.
Brie was on her feet. "My fiancé," she shouted. "Joey Fielding. The man I loved. The man who loved me. The man I was going to marry and spend my life with. Have babies with. Why did you kill him?"
The restaurant deck went silent. Everyone stopped talking, listened and stared. And they recognized Brie. In a second she was going to be mobbed.
I placed my hand firmly on Melanie's thigh. As if to ground her, to hold her down. I increased the pressure of my hand, silently telling her to be careful what she said. To not make a fool of herself.
I could see the control she was exerting over her emotions. "Brie," she said in a reasonable voice, "Joey was my friend. I did not kill him."
Tears in her eyes, Brie protested, "During the summer, when I was on my Australian tour, you were there, always hanging around him. Every time I called you were there!"
"Well, of course, I was there," Melanie said soothingly. "I was his realtor. I found him that fabulous location for his restaurant." She pointed toward Joey's Place with her hand.
"And Brie, he talked about you constantly. He told me all about the engagement and your wedding plans."
I could see what those words cost Melanie, but no one else could. No one knew her the way I did.
For a second Brie seemed unsure of what to say next. "I'm getting out of here," she cried. "Come on, Ali." She turned on her stilettos and marched up the stairs.
Al Shariff stood up, his angry, piercing eyes glaring at Melanie. "She can't work. She can't sing. She's cancelled her London tour. This is costing her a bundle. And it's all your fault."
"Wait a minute," Cam yelled. "You can't talk to her like that."
"Yeah," Jon said. "What don't we all cool off. "
"Cool off! Do you have any idea what she has to pay in fines when she cancels a tour?" He stomped off after Brie.
Bunny jumped up. "Brie! Brie, honey, wait for mommy." And she was off too.
With that, Clay pushed away from the table. "Keep away from my family," he growled at Melanie, and started to go.
I stood up. "Just a minute here," I declared, "you're the one who scheduled this cozy little get-together!"
Clay lumbered off, huffing and puffing as he climbed the stairs.
Melanie buried her face in her hands. Her shoulders were shaking. But when she uncovered her face, I saw she was laughing.
"This is not my life," she blurted. "Someone has stolen my life and replaced it with this nightmare."
"Okay, baby, we're going to leave now," Cam said and got up, taking Melanie's arm.
Jon stood up too and threw some money on the table. "Cheapskate stiffed us for his drinks," he said resentfully.
"This is a nightmare," Melanie repeated. "What else can go wrong?"
Two people were approaching our table. "Oh, no, not them. Not now," I breathed.
10
"Were those the Bittermans we just missed?" David Boleyn asked. "Too bad. Clay and I go way back. Now, what's this I hear about you folks? A friend called me and gave me an earful about what's been going on here while we were out at sea," he continued. "We sailed back to shore as quickly as the boat could get us here."
The "boat" that David Boleyn referred to was an eighty foot yacht named the Crystal Lynne.
Mrs. Crystal Lynne Boleyn was at his side, a Dolly Parton look-alike with flowing platinum blonde hair and implants so big they cleared a path for her. Melanie had clued me in about the breast implants. I need clues about such matters because the truth is I don't have a clue. I just thought Mother Nature had been generous to Crystal Lynne.
Melanie and Crystal embraced and kissed the air at each other's cheeks. "Crystal used to be my dearest friend," Melanie told us, "in our pageant days. How are you, sweetie?"
Crystal said she was
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