Killer Summer by Lynda Curnyn (e book reading free .txt) 📗

I’ve finished the tribute.” Then I took off down the dock before he could say another word.

Because I realized, as I filmed Donnie standing like a peacock on his prized boat, that I didn’t need to listen to his lies anymore.

There was someone else who could likely tell me whether or not Donnie had docked that night.

And that person was none other than Sage’s abandoned paramour.

Good ol‘ Chad. The dock boy.

Fortunately, I remembered what he looked like, since Sage had pointed him out enough times that first weekend, when she’d set her sights on him. Though finding him was another matter. When I learned from one of his fellow dock boys that Chad was working the four-to-twelve shift tonight, I went back to the house to wait.

Of course, no one was there. Stepping onto the deck, I spotted Tom, Nick and Francesca lounging at the shore. But no Sage. Or Vince, for that matter. Jesus, she must have had a good time last night. Or was still having a good time, I thought, wondering if they were going to spend the whole day in bed. Still, I checked my cell phone, just to make sure she hadn’t left any messages that might indicate when she might be home. I only found one message. From Jeff. And though it was a sweet little message about what a nice time he’d had last week, I opted not to call him back. Not yet. I wasn’t sure whether it was because I no longer trusted anyone in law enforcement to help me get to the truth about what happened that night, or because I no longer believed Jeff to be more than a passing fancy, someone to bridge a small gap between Myles…and whoever came next.

Now that was a depressing thought. And since I didn’t have time to be depressed, I fixed myself an egg-salad sandwich, then killed an afternoon reviewing my footage of the Fourth of July party, finally seeing Tom’s drunken display for what I now suspected it was: the beginnings of grief. And I saw Donnie’s endless sobs on the back deck as the pathetic attempts of a man whose ass I hoped to nail to the wall in a few short hours.

I was already seated on a bench just before the dock as the four o’clock sun rose into the sky, and I spotted Chad immediately at the other end, securing a boat into one of the slips.

“Hi,” I said, approaching him as he pulled the rope tight and stood to study his handiwork.

He looked up, startled. Then a smile touched his golden-tan features as he slid his sunglasses to the top of his head. He was even cuter close up. No wonder Sage had been so put out when Chad wouldn’t put out.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

“I’m hoping you can. Name’s Zoe Keller,” I said, holding out a hand.

As he shook it, I briefly considered telling him I was a friend of Sage’s, but I wasn’t sure what kind of reaction I’d get with that, considering what had happened—or not happened—between them that night. “What can I do for you?” he asked.

“I’m thinking about getting a boat, and I’m wondering if you could tell me how the docks work here. Do I have to sign up for a slip or—”

“Oh, yeah,” he said.“Quite a little waiting list, too, if you want a private slip. We’re talking at least a year.”

“Is that right?” I replied. “So what would I do in the meantime, if I wanted to dock here for the weekend?”

“Well, we do have weekend rentals. Also nightly rentals, for customers of The Inn or The Out. That would be the slips right in front of the market there,” he said, pointing to the dock where Donnie’s boat sat. “Private slips are over on the other side of the dock. By the hotel,” he said, gesturing to the hotel at the far end of the dock.

So Big Shot didn’t have his own private slip yet. I was hoping that would work in my favor. “You wouldn’t happen to keep track of who docks there on the weekends, would you?”

“Sure do. Everyone who docks here needs to show registration to sign up for a slip.” Then he smiled. “And pay the fees, of course.”

I smiled back. “You wouldn’t be able to show me the sign-in records, would you?”

He frowned. “What would you need to see those for?”

“I’m just trying to get a sense of availability. See, if I get a boat, I want to be sure I’ll be able to dock it. I plan on spending a lot of time out here.”

“Well, I can tell you. We got one hundred slips and we tend to fill them up on Friday and Saturday nights. Especially during full season. But not always. Best to get here early.”

“What about, say, a Saturday night in June?”

He shrugged.“Probably about a sixty percent occupancy rate.”

“You wouldn’t mind if I had a look at June, would you?”

“Well, I just told you—”

“I know, I’m just nervous, you know? I’m thinking about renting a boat for the month of June next year, but I don’t want to invest if I won’t be able to dock on a regular basis.”

He glanced around. “I’m not really allowed to show the records, ma’am.”

I ignored the fact that he’d just “ma’amed” me—I wasn’t that much older than him after all—and said, “Just one little look.” Then I beamed him another smile. “I won’t tell anyone.”

His expression turned uneasy.‘I’d need to talk to my boss. And he’s not here this weekend.“

Sage had been right about Chad. Definitely a Rules boy. Then, spurred by the thought of Sage, I said,“Even if I was a good friend of someone you know?” Then I pulled out my ace. “Sage Daniels? You remember her, don’t you? Pretty girl, with streaky brown hair and green eyes.”

His eyes widened and suddenly his golden-tan features flushed bright red.

Oh, he remembered Sage all right. And clearly the memory made him