Sailing to Capri by Elizabeth Adler Read Free Book Online Page B

good.”
    “Mrs. Wainwright’s an excellent cook.” Things were suddenly a little awkward between the stranger and myself. A definitecoolness had set in. I thought wearily this might be a long night.
    I went over to look at Rats who was lying on his belly in front of the fire. I put my drink and the bowl of cheese straws on the coffee table and plopped down into the squishy old sofa. “Come here, boy,” I said. He gave me a long mournful look, then got to his feet, walked slowly over and climbed onto my knee.
    He gave my chin a lavish lick and I wiped my face with the back of my hand. “Jack Russells think they’re little lapdogs,” I informed Montana who had taken a seat opposite.
    “At least it’s a sign of life,” he said.
    He sipped his drink silently, and I sipped mine. “So you live in Dallas, Mr. Montana?” I asked finally.
    “Among other places.”
    He certainly wasn’t giving anything away. “But not on your dad’s ranch?” I prodded.
    “The ranch went into bankruptcy just before Dad died. I was twelve then. I’ve not been back since.”
    “I’m sorry.” I was flustered by his sudden frankness. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
    “I have no secrets,” he said calmly. “After Dad died I was placed in a foster home. They were decent enough people, there was just no love to go around.” He grinned at me. “Maybe that’s why I’ve been looking for love ever since.”
    “And have you found it yet?”
    “Several times.” His narrow dark eyes held mine again, and I felt myself get hot in the place where my heavy hair fell onto the nape of my neck. I noticed his eyes were the deep gray of Yorkshire stone.
    “Did any of them stick?” I would have killed him had he asked me such a personal question but he didn’t seem fazed.
    “Not a one. You’re probably looking at the only straight, unmarried forty-four-year-old man left in Texas.”
    I laughed. “At least we got that out of the way,” I said.
    I was flirting again. What was wrong with me? I didn’t think I even liked him. Not really, anyhow, though he was kind of tough-attractive. I sighed. He was certainly different from the other men I’d had designs on over the past few years. As always, I’d been looking for love in all the wrong places. Kind of my pattern, Bob had said. “Another bourbon, Mr. Montana?” I was doing my best imitation of an English lady.
    “Don’t you think it could be Harry now? After all, we’re stuck here for the night in a snowstorm.”
    “Another drink, Harry?”
    “No thank you, Miss Keane.”
    “Okay, okay, so it’s Daisy.”
    We stared silently at each other. Then he said, “What’s your story, anyway, Daisy Keane? Where do you come from and how did you end up here?”
    “You’re the investigator, I thought you’d already know.” He gave me a level look that said I was being ridiculous. I shrugged. “Chicago originally. I ended up in a suburb in Illinois with an unfaithful husband who sold the house out from under me and took off with a twenty-year-old blonde. A familiar story in your line of business, I’m sure.”
    “I don’t do that kind of investigating.”
    “Then exactly what kind do you do?” There was frost in my voice, and I didn’t know why. I just knew that all of a sudden Iwas weary. Weary from the long dreadful mournful day, weary from trying to keep my emotions in check, weary from weeping in front of this stranger. I just wanted to be in my bed with the lights out, the blankets up to my neck and Rats fast asleep on my feet. Alone with my memories.
    “I’m a crime investigator.”
    I glanced at him, astonished. What was a crime investigator doing with Bob?
    “I investigate theft, fraud, extortion.” He paused. “And murder.”
    I jolted upright and Rats slid protesting from my lap onto the sofa. Montana’s dark eyes stared meaningfully into mine. “Wait a minute, are you saying you think Bob was
murdered?’”
    “Maybe.” I felt my heart flutter and jump and then