Deadly Dye and a Soy Chai: a Danger Cove Hair Salon Mystery (Danger Cove Mysteries Book 5) by Traci Andrighetti, Elizabeth Ashby Read Free Book Online Page B

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    The little seagull hopped into my line of vision. Then it swooped down and plucked a fish from the water. I shuddered. Was that some kind of sign?
    "Are you cold?" Amy asked. "I've got an extra sweater in my satchel."
    I shook my head and tried to recoup the courage I'd gathered the night before. "You know, if there is someone out to get me, then that's even more of a reason to look into what happened to Margaret. Besides, Gia said she would help."
    She lurched forward as her elbow fell off the table. "You want your cousin to help you?"
    Amy and Gia were like oil and water, or maybe I should say like beer and Chianti. "Gia's a little over the top, but I'll give her this—she's über resourceful," I replied, using an adjective that Amy would understand. "Right now, for instance, because of all the money problems we're having, she's hunting for some cash my uncle supposedly hid. She calls it his 'lost treasure.'"
    "I didn't take you for a treasure hunter," a male voice said.
    I turned and saw Zac holding a to-go coffee.
    "I was talking about my cousin." I crossed my arms, annoyed that he'd eavesdropped on our conversation. I looked at Amy to see whether she was irritated too. Quite the contrary. Her face was flushed, and she was batting her eyelashes at the speed of a hummingbird flapping its wings.
    "Well, if she's looking for treasure, she's come to the right place." He gestured toward the water. "A British ship called Ocean's Revenge sunk out there somewhere in 1852, and the booty that the pirate Bart Coffyn looted from Sir Francis Drake in 1579 is rumored to be buried here too."
    "Well, aren't you the maritime history buff," Amy exclaimed, drawing out the word "buff" as she gawked at his biceps.
    Zac grinned. "It was my father's passion."
    "We have a large collection of books on local piracy at the library." Amy twirled a lock of mousy brown hair around her finger. "If you'd like to stop by sometime, I'd be happy to help you deepen your knowledge of the subject."
    Oh, brother . I cleared my throat. "If you don't mind, Zac, we were in the middle of a private conversation."
    The smile faded from his lips. "Sure, I need to get to work anyway. I just stopped to tell you how sorry I was to hear about what happened at your salon yesterday."
    My stomach fell like a suspended statue cut from a rope. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize you knew."
    "Margaret Appleby was an acquaintance of my grandma's."
    Now he had my undivided attention. "Did your grandmother know her well?"
    "Not really. They quilted together a few times after Margaret had to quit the Danger Cove Quilt Guild."
    Amy attempted a sexy stare over the thick black rim of her glasses. "You know about quilting too? A man after my own heart."
    I kicked her under the table. "Um, Zac," I began as I caught a glimpse of Amy pointing toward the ground and mouthing "ow," "why did Margaret have to quit the guild?"
    He swallowed a sip of coffee. "I'm not sure exactly. But this morning I stopped by my mom's house, and I heard my grandma telling her that it had something to do with a woman named Bertha Braun."
    My heart started racing, but I played it cool. I couldn't let Zac know that I was investigating Margaret's death. Word spread like wildfire in Danger Cove. "Do you think your grandmother would be willing to talk to me about Margaret?"
    He shrugged. "Honestly, I think the best person to talk to would be the woman who runs the guild."
    "Dee Madison," Amy interjected. "She and her best friend, Emma Quinn, come into the library to check out quilting books. They're quite fascinating—the books, I mean."
    Yeah, as interesting as the history of the needle and thread . "I'll do that, Zac. And thanks."
    He looked me in the eyes. "Promise you'll let me know if there's anything else I can do?"
    I looked away. Even though I'd sworn off the color blue for the rest of my life, there was something about the shade of his eyes that almost made me want to change my mind. "Definitely."
    As he