Resort to Murder by Carolyn Hart Read Free Book Online Page A

thinking idly that Steve had apparently stayed in Hamilton, that the kids weren’t back yet, that Lloyd and Connor had likely bought prints of Bermuda scenes to take home as keepsakes of their wedding journey, and most of all, that Lloyd was very much in love.
    I sank into a reverie, my mind a collage of memories: Emily’s wedding day; my first glimpse of Diana as a tiny, wispy-haired baby; Richard and I one perfect October day in Mexico City; Neal running into his grandfather’s arms. The common thread was faces full of love. I was far away in time and place.
    â€œHenrie.” Lloyd’s voice was cheerful.
    I jolted to the reality of place.
    â€œI’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” Lloyd dropped into the chair beside me. “Are you enjoying the trip?” His glance was hopeful but tentative.
    This was likely the first time in more than a decade that we’d been alone together. It had taken some courage for him to approach me. Also, of course, Lloyd was one of those persons who always want to be around people. Perhaps an ex-mother-in-law waspreferable to solitude. “Absolutely.” I spoke warmly. “I’m so glad I was able to come. It was very kind of you to invite me to accompany the children.”
    â€œMy pleasure.” His tone was expansive. And pleased.
    â€œIt’s truly lovely here.” I spread my hand to encompass the hotel and the terrace and the garden. “I hadn’t realized this was where you and Connor met.”
    Once again, happiness transformed his face. The slight puffiness under his eyes, the heaviness of his jowls, all the telltale traces of middle age disappeared in the eagerness of his gaze, the joyous curve of his lips. “Right there.” He pointed to the moongate and the steps leading down to the lower terrace. “That’s where I saw her.”
    â€œWas it love at first sight?” My tone was gently gibing.
    Serious, intense Lloyd simply nodded. “Yes. Yes, it was. That’s the way it should be, you know. One day you walk along and suddenly you see someone and you know nothing will ever be the same, that the future’s going to be different and wonderful. It happened for us.” His light green eyes glowed. “And the neat thing is, the same thing happened for Marlow and Aaron on Elbow Beach the year before. They just happened to be on the beach at the same time. Both of them came here for spring break and they’d never met on the campus even though they both were in school at Emory. It’s fate, you see.”
    I was long past belief in fate or karma, but I was glad Lloyd had a romantic illusion that pleased him. He was so open, his love there for everyone to see. There are none so vulnerable as those who love. I reached out, patted his hand.
    He turned his fingers, held mine. “That’s nice of you. You’re a very nice person. To wish me well.”
    I was not at all sure how nice I was. But I was too old to be critical. One of the surprising by-products of age is empathy for everyone—the right, the wrong, the good, the bad, the best, the worst, the kind, the cruel, never approving evil or ugliness or selfishness but recognizing the corrosive cost to those in the grip of darkness. “I hope everyone will wish you and Connor happiness.”
    His grasp slackened. He lifted his hand, brushed his fingers against his face as if smoothing away a cobweb. “Yeah.”
    The single word told me that serious, intense Lloyd was well aware of the unhappiness swirling around them.
    I saw no point in talking about the resistance Lloyd and Connor faced and I doubted he wanted to discuss that with me. I said briskly, “What prompted you to come to Bermuda last year?”
    â€œGolf.” Happily, he described his foursome and some of their previous journeys. “One of the guys had stayed here before. The hotel has privileges at some of the best courses. Even the Mid