Oliver Twisted (An Ivy Meadows Mystery Book 3) by Cindy Brown Read Free Book Online Page A

“Nancy is supposed to be a mess,” he said when I looked at it doubtfully. Okay, I could be a mess.
    I grabbed a piece of toast with marmalade on the way back to my cabin, then hid my borrowed books under my pillow next to my copy of Oliver Twist . Didn’t want Ada to know I was reading up.
    Tried my phone again. No service. I was supposed to check in with Uncle Bob morning, noon, and night so we could share information and suspicions and PI stuff like that, but we had planned to text. Now how were we going to connect?
    I was due to be an ambient character from nine ’til noon, so I dressed in my one non-gin-smelling costume, affixed the wig onto my head, dashed out the door, ran up the stairs, and made it to the Pickwick Promenade just as Big Ben struck nine. As an ambient character, I could pretty much do as I pleased as long as I stayed in character. I wanted to catch Theo’s talk, but that wasn’t for another hour, and it was a bit early for drinking and dancing, Nancy’s typical activities, so I used the time to look for my uncle. I went to every dining area serving breakfast. I even went to the Solitary Oyster Bar, just in case. Didn’t see him anywhere.
    All the while I was looking for him, I had the feeling I was being watched. Never saw or heard anything concrete, just had a fleeting image of…a man’s hat? And though I couldn’t put my finger on exactly why I was nervous, my body was on alert. Uncle Bob had taught me never to ignore that feeling. “Might be some leftover warning system from when humans were prey,” he said. “If your hackles are raised, look around for the wolf.”
    I knew there were wolves about. Harley didn’t end up in her closet all by herself.

CHAPTER 10
    His Oratorical Powers and His Importance

      
    I paced the outdoor Pickwick Promenade, thinking. Who put Harley in the closet? How was she connected to the theft ring? How was I ever going to solve her murder, catch the thieves, and get that ten-thousand-dollar bonus when I couldn’t reach my best investigative tool (my uncle)? And, I thought, as I saw a black hat out of the corner of my eye, who was following me?
    I thought the hatted person had disappeared indoors, so I scurried inside to the atrium just as Big Ben struck ten. Time for Theo’s talk, but…a man in a black Victorian top hat headed toward the casino. My stalker? I hurried after him. I could catch Theo later.
    The man, who carried a brass-tipped walking stick, went past the Golden Hall Gambling Establishment and maneuvered around the throng of people streaming into the theater for Theo’s lecture. I followed him, careful to keep a tourist or two in front of me at all times. And I followed him. And followed him. He showed not the slightest nervousness or interest in me, not one nervous tic or backwards glance.
    By the time he sat down to watch a tennis match at the onboard court, I was pretty sure I had the wrong guy. Then I caught a glimpse of a different black hat behind me to the side. I whirled around, but whoever it was had disappeared into a crowd.
    Great. I’d been followed while tailing Mr. Top Hat. Uncle Bob had taught me how to shadow someone, but not what to do when I was the one being followed. I checked my phone again. Still no reception. No chance to talk to my uncle. At least I could follow up on my other clue: Theo. I headed back to the theater and slipped inside. The librarian was right. Theo Pushwright was a draw. Almost every seat in the house was full, and all heads were turned toward the handsome dark-haired man onstage.
    Timothy, dressed as Fagin, stood near the back of the theater. I slid up next to him. “Good morning…Ow!” I rubbed my arm where he’d pinched me.
    “I can’t believe you found a dead body and didn’t tell me.”
    “It was supposed to be hush-hush,” I whispered.
    “Well, it was all anyone talked about in the crew canteen this morning.”
    “Did they mention Kawasaki in the freezer?”
    “What? Another