Killer Summer by Lynda Curnyn (knowledgeable books to read TXT) 📕

lot of good that’ll do us. They’re still working on the Who Killed Chad mystery. They don’t even realize this is bigger than Chad. Besides, Donnie Havens doesn’t have a gun.“

“There’s no way you could know that, Zoe.”

“He’s a coward, Myles. I’ll put money on it that if we put a little pressure on him, he’ll crack.”

“Zoe, let’s just call the police—”

“For what? So they can tell me I’m imagining things? We can’t let this guy get away with—”

“And I can’t let you risk our lives just because you feel a need to play the hero.”

Now I was angry. This had nothing to do with heroics and everything to do with justice. Two innocent people were dead. I looked him in the eye. “Fine. If you won’t come with me, I’m going it alone.” Picking up my bag, I strode off ahead of him.

I made it to the Kismet sign before he caught up with me. “I’m not letting you go alone, Zoe!‘

I fought to keep from collapsing under the weight of the relief I felt. The last thing I wanted to do was face Donnie Havens alone. I started walking again.

“Wait,” Myles said.

I turned to look at him.

“Are you planning on clubbing him with this bag, or can we drop it off somewhere?”

“Oh, right.” I thought about this a moment. We could drop it off at the house, but I didn’t really want to get involved with Tom or Nick or anyone else who might be there. Besides, Donnie might go out for the evening, and I didn’t want to miss him.

I turned to look at The Inn, which was already starting to fill up with early evening diners coming to watch the sunset. “Follow me,” I said, marching off to the bar.

“Hey, Danny,” I greeted the bartender as I approached. Leaning over the bar, I gave him a smile. “Do you think you could do me a favor?”

“Anything for you, gorgeous.”

I liked Danny. “Do you think you could stash this bag behind the bar? I’ll come back for it later.”

“Sure thing,” he said.

I turned to Myles, who handed the bag over the top of the bar, practically glaring at Danny while he did.

Oh, wow. Was he jealous, or what?

“Thanks, Danny,” I said. Then I headed out of the bar, Myles at my heels.

“You were flirting with that guy,” Myles said once we were outside again.

“Was I?” I asked, genuinely curious. Maybe I did know how to flirt after all.

“Yeah, you were, all right.”

I glanced at him as we passed the market. He was jealous!

Okay, so I felt a little glad about that.

As we passed the dock, I spotted Donnie’s boat. “Well, he’s on the island. Let’s just hope he’s home,” I said, my eye roaming down the line of boats and falling on the Sweet Sophia, which was parked in the second to last slip, near the hotel.

I thought of Vince’s daughter, Sophia, and wondered if this might be his boat. Then I realized it couldn’t be. This was a private ship, and I hadn’t seen Vince’s name on the list of private shipowners. Well, whatever. I could only assume Sage’s ship had come in tonight. And if she was enjoying her evening with Vince, I was glad. Not only because I wanted Sage to be happy—and it was clear she thought Vince would make her happy—but it might keep her out of my hair while I sorted this whole thing out.

“Let’s boogie,” I said, picking up speed as we headed down West Lighthouse Walk.

“Nice spread,” Myles said as we approached Donnie’s house.

“Yeah. I guess this is what blood money buys you,” I replied. “Wait till you see the inside. Tacky as hell.”

“Zoe,” he said, grabbing my arm before I could make my way up the wooden walkway. “We’re not going inside.”

“Okay, okay,” I said, yanking my arm out of his grip and raising it to knock on the outside door.

And knock. And knock. No one answered, despite the fact that the front door was wide open. Before Myles could stop me, I swung the door open, stepping inside, leaving him to do nothing but follow me, muttering something about my stupidity.

Music wafted in from the back deck. Damn, what if he wasn’t alone? I’ll make him come to the front of the house with me, I decided, heading for the sliding glass door.

I stepped through the door, Myles at my back, and discovered that Donnie wasn’t alone. Far from it. He was in the hot tub with a brunette who looked vaguely familiar.

And I knew it wasn’t Donnie’s wife.

Dolores Vecchio, I realized, finally placing her. The broker who sold Tom and Maggie their house. I’d seen her at Tom’s Fourth of July party.

“Who let you in here?” Donnie said, standing up in the tub.

I was relieved to discover he at least had a bathing suit on. “Door was wide open, Donnie. You’d think you’d be a little more discreet.” My gaze flicked to Dolores. “Under the circumstances.”

“You get outta here before I call the police.”

“You probably don’t want to do that, Mr. Havens,” Myles said.

Mr. Havens. That was Myles. Always so polite.“Look, Donnie, we need to talk. I’d prefer not to do it in front of your mistress. I, at least, still have some respect for your wife.”

Dolores narrowed her eyes.

But Donnie hopped out of the tub, toweling himself off as he stepped past us through the sliding glass doors.

I followed, and though I knew Myles wasn’t happy about it, he did, too.

“Now what’s this about?” he barked once we stood in his living room.

“It’s about Maggie Landon.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What about her?”

“I want to know exactly where you were the night she died.”

He rolled his eyes.“I told you already. I was playing poker with my buddies.”

“We have a witness who saw you at the Kismet dock the night she died,” I said, hoping he would take the bait. “And it wasn’t Chad.”

“Chad? Who the fuck is Chad?”

“The dock boy who died last week.”

His eyes widened.