Huckleberry Finished by Livia J. Washburn Read Free Book Online Page A

so?”
    I nodded and said, “I do.”
    â€œYou’re not just saying that?”
    â€œNope. You had all these folks eatin’ right out of the palm of your hand. I think everybody in here enjoyed it. I know I did.”
    â€œWell, it’s kind of you to say so.” Mark took a handkerchief from the breast pocket of the white suit coat he wore and patted his forehead with it. A little make-up came off on the handkerchief.
    I linked my arm with his and said, “Come on over to the bar. It’s not every day I can ask Mark Twain to have a drink with me.”
    The same bartender brought us champagne. Mark had some trouble drinking his through the drooping fake mustache, but he managed. “Next time I’ll get rid of this soup strainer first,” he complained.
    â€œNo, no, you have to leave it on,” I told him. “It makes you look distinguished.”
    â€œYou really think it went all right?”
    â€œI know it did.”
    Mark relaxed after that, and we chatted about his performance and the passengers’ reactions. Some of them still came up to him to shake his hand and thank him for an entertaining evening. He seemed to enjoy talking to them, and after a while I leaned over to him and said, “I think you may have a future in this business.”
    â€œWhat, riverboat acting?”
    â€œIt’s a start. Today, the riverboat. Tomorrow, Hollywood or Broadway!”
    â€œLet’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he cautioned, but I could tell he was pleased by what I’d said.
    I started thinking about what a pleasant evening it had turned out to be after all, despite the strains and worries of the afternoon. The Kramers could work out their problems between themselves. Wherever Ben Webster had gone, at least I was confident he wasn’t still on the riverboat. The rest of the overnight cruise was bound to go smoothly.
    I know, I know. I’m dumb that way sometimes.
    I was nursing another glass of champagne when the cell phone in my purse rang. Thinking that it might be Melissa or Luke, I said, “Excuse me a minute,” to Mark and stepped away from the bar while I took the phone from my purse.
    The number on the display wasn’t a familiar one, though. I didn’t even recognize the area code. I opened the phone and said, “Delilah Dickinson.”
    â€œMs. Dickinson.” It was a man’s voice, calm and powerful, and one that I’d never heard before, as far as I could recall. I didn’t have to wonder whom it belonged to, though, because he went on immediately, “This is Captain Williams.”
    â€œCaptain Williams?” I repeated.
    â€œCaptain of the Southern Belle, ” he explained. “Where are you right now?”
    The blunt question took me by surprise. “Why, I’m in the salon—” I began.
    â€œStay right there if you would, please. Mr. Rafferty will come and get you.”
    â€œCome and…get me?” Whatever this was, if Rafferty was involved it couldn’t be good.
    â€œThat’s right. There’s something…or rather, someone…you need to see.”
    No, sir, I thought. Not good at all.

C HAPTER 6
    M ark must have seen the worried look on my face as I closed my cell phone and slipped it back into my purse. “Problem?” he asked. “Something about your tour?”
    â€œI don’t know.” I picked up my glass and threw back the rest of the champagne. Luckily there wasn’t much of it left, or I might have choked on it. “That was Captain Williams. You know him?”
    â€œI’ve met him a couple of times. I’m new at the job of playing Mark Twain, remember? I don’t know any of the crew all that well yet.”
    â€œWhen you talked to him, did the captain strike you as the sort of fella who’d get worked up over something if it wasn’t important?”
    â€œNot at all,” Mark said, not hesitating a bit.