Mona Lisa Eyes (Danny Logan Mystery #4) by M.D. Grayson Read Free Book Online Page A

not all that comfortable at this type of event and, in my experience, it’s easier to duck out when you sit in the back. Granted, about a month ago Toni had taken me to Nordstrom’s and forced me to buy a decent suit, but I hadn ’t counted on having to actually use it so soon . Now, here I was, all decked out in a dark charcoal Armani Collezioni pinstripe suit with a white shirt and a red striped tie. Toni said I looked amazing, but honestly it wasn’t a getup that I was all that comfortable in: generally speaking, I’m more of a shorts-and-Hawaiian-shirt in the summer, giving way to a blue-jeans-and-flannel kind of guy in the fall and winter. Not to mention that I was still feeling a little “tingly” from this morning’s hard training run. Everything else being equal, I’d have rather been home on a Saturday night with my feet up.
    Toni , on the other hand—damn! She really did look amazing . This was a “business dress” kind of deal, so she wore a dark green wrap over a sleeveless, pleated, cream -colored dress that fell to just above her knees. The colors of her full-sleeve tattoo on her left arm were on full display, but rather than scream for attention , they blended right in with the wrap as if she ’d designed it that way. Her gleaming black hair was pulled back tightly and worn up. This somehow emphasized her dark red lipstick and her deep blue eyes. As always , she was stunning.
    I know the other people at our table appreciated Toni—most of the women and all of the men. They could hardly keep from staring. I’ve learned to live with this over time, and it doesn ’t bother me; in fact, I find it kind of flattering, and I take it in stride. I was a little surprised that the ladies seemed interested in me, though —must have been the suit.
    “Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?” the woman to my left asked. I guessed she was mid-forties. A little heavy on the makeup , but still pretty. “In films? Maybe on television?”
    I smiled . “Oh, I don’t think so.”
    “Yes,” the woman across from me said. “I know! You’re Danny Logan, right ? The detective who saved those police officers a couple of months ago?”
    “Well, I . . .” I started to say. Aw, shucks .
    “Why, he certainly is,” Toni said, jumping right in, complete with a Southern drawl. “He’s a hero, that’s for sure.”
    I glanced at her just long enough to see a sly, mischievous smile on her face.
    “You should have seen him,” she said. “He stood there like a rock—bullets were flying all around. Why, it was terrifying .” I half-expected her to swoon.
    I gave her a little stink-eye, trying to say “Enough!” Not that I thought it would actually work with her if she was on a roll and really having fun watching me squirm , which it looked like she was. Fortunately, though, the waiters chose that moment to show up with our salads, followed by a surprisingly good crab-stuffed salmon. The topic changed , and I was off the hook. I looked over at her and she winked at me, I suppose to let me know that I’d been saved by the bell .
     

     
    After lunch was served and the ceremony concluded, we were standing outside in the Spanish Foyer when I noticed Ron Bergstrom walking toward us. Accompanying him was a trim Asian man in a medium-colored gray suit with salt-and -pepper hair.
    Ron smiled as he approached. “’Pon my soul , it’s Danny Logan.” He extended his hand.
    We shook hands. “Ron Bergstrom,” I said. “It’s good to see you again. Thanks for meeting with us.” I turned and put my hand on Toni’s arm. “You remember my partner, Toni Blair, don’t you?”
    He smiled. “I may not be the sharpest chisel in the carving chest, Mr . Logan, but there are some people even I don’t forget.” He shook Toni’s hand. “Ms. Blair, charmed.”
    “It ’s very nice to see you again, Ron. But please —call me Toni, okay?”
    Ron nodded. “Toni it is, then .” I think Ron was probably fifty years old.