Deadly Ever After by Eva Gates (smart books to read TXT) 📕

Mrs. Fitzgerald, chair of our library board and enthusiastic member of the Bodie Island Lighthouse Library Classic Novel Reading Club, had made this month’s recommendation: The Hound of the Baskervilles by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

I told Butch, and Stephanie clapped her hands together. “I love that story. So spooky: the moor, the demon dog, the family curse.”

“And Sherlock Holmes,” Butch said. “You might even get Sam Watson out to talk about that one.”

The sun was dipping rapidly in the west, and people were saying their good-byes before heading for their cars. Connor came to stand beside me, and we exchanged more hugs and accepted more congratulations. Soon only my family were left on the beach as Josie’s staff began clearing up the few leftovers.

“Now that,” Dad said, “was a good party.”

“It was nice. Have you thought about a beach wedding, dear?” Mom asked.

I glanced at Connor. “Thought about, yes. We’ve thought about a lot of things. We don’t want to be too weather dependent.”

“You don’t want to go overboard,” ever-frugal Dad said.

“But you want something suitable,” never-frugal Mom said.

“Don’t worry, Mom. You’ll be involved in the preparations.”

“You can count on that,” Aunt Ellen said.

Mom sniffed but said nothing. The relationship between the sisters had always been fraught, but they tried to get on for the sake of their children.

Truth be told, Connor and I had done nothing about wedding plans. We’d tentatively decided on next August, a year from now, and that was as far as planning had gone. I’d been told, more than once, that the best facilities booked up years ahead. This party had been so perfect that right now I was thinking of a beach wedding. Although August was the beginning of hurricane season. Always something to bear in mind along the coast. Maybe a spring or early-summer date the year after next would be better?

As though he was thinking the same thing I was, Connor put his arm loosely around my shoulders. “Whatever Lucy wants is good enough for me.”

“Glad to hear it,” Mom said. “The groom has one job and one job only at a wedding. And that’s to show up. On time, suitably dressed, and reasonably sober.”

“I was sober at our wedding,” Dad said. “Wasn’t I?”

I was about to give Mom a wink, but the teasing expression died when I saw her face. The blood drained out of it, her eyes widened, and her mouth formed a shocked O. She was facing inland, and I was looking past her toward the beach and the open ocean. I whirled around to see what had caught her attention.

I suspect all the blood drained from my own face. I was certainly shocked.

“What’s the matter?” Connor turned quickly. “Do you know those people?”

A young man and an older woman were picking their way carefully down the path through the dunes, a little white dog straining at the leash the woman held. The man was dressed as though he were about to set out for a day’s sailing on his private yacht, in white trousers and polo shirt under a navy-blue blazer. The woman’s high heels and snug yellow skirt threatened to topple her over. The dog was a bichon frise, all tight white fur, bushy arching tail, round black eyes and nose, pink tongue, rhinestone-studded pink collar, and pink leash.

“I know them,” Mom said. “But I can assure you they were not invited. Not by me, at any rate. Millar, are you responsible for this?”

“I might have mentioned something about it to Rich,” my father said, referring to his law partner. “But I didn’t invite anyone.”

The new arrivals saw us watching. The woman yelled, “Yoo-hoo! Hope we’re not too late.” The young man lifted a hand in a lazy greeting. The dog broke into a chorus of barking and lunged at us.

“Who are those people?” Connor repeated.

“Richard Eric Lewiston the Third,” I said, “and his mother, the formidable Evangeline. The dog, I don’t know.”

“Not—”

“Yup. Ricky himself. The last time I saw Ricky, he was on bended knee proposing marriage to me.”

Chapter Two

That was embarrassing.

Ricky and Evangeline exchanged air kisses with Mom, Dad, and me. Ricky grunted at Connor and stared out to sea, while Evangeline oozed false charm at meeting my fiancé and her dog sniffed at everyone’s ankles. Uncle Amos, Aunt Ellen, Josie, and Jake simply looked confused.

“Sooo sorry we’re late,” Evangeline cooed. “It looks like we’ve missed all the fun. Pooh. Our plane was delayed leaving Boston. I told you, Ricky, we should have chartered a jet. I never like to fly commercial,” she said to Aunt Ellen. “So dreadfully unreliable.”

“I totally agree,” Aunt Ellen said. “Don’t I always say that, Amos?”

“What?” Uncle Amos said.

“It wouldn’t have helped, Mother,” Ricky said. “A private jet can’t fly in a thunderstorm either. Everything was grounded.”

She waved that trifle away. “And then we had to rent a car in Norfolk and drive all this way rather than conveniently land in a local airport. Such a bother. The check-in at the hotel took so long, and I had to bathe and change, of course.” She glanced up the beach to where Josie’s helpers were packing up the last of the picnic. “Is that a wine bottle I see? Do get me something, will you, Ricky? Lucy, you help him.”

I gave Connor an apologetic shrug and followed Ricky.

“Did you have to bring Fluffy?” my mother said. I assumed she was referring to the dog.

“Of course I brought Fluffy, Suzanne. She can’t be left alone at home, and you know how busy Rich is these days. Now, I hope you’re not totally full. We’ll want to go out to dinner, of course. If you’d care to join us, Eileen, you’d be welcome.”

“Okay. And it’s Ellen.”

“Perhaps not tonight,” my mom said. “We’ve just finished a huge—and marvelous—picnic, so we are, as you put it, full.”

“Congratulations, Lucy,” Ricky said to me in a low voice as we walked across the sand. “Mom told me you’re engaged. I’m