The Baron by Sally Goldenbaum Read Free Book Online Page B

incredible yacht,
Sea-breeze
, completely equipped with everything your heart—and that of a dozen of your closest friends—desires for pampered, sublime happiness: cook and crew, caviar, and hidden pleasures too incredible to mention!”
    Again the night air filled with a rippling of pleased chatter.
    “So now to business.” The detective’s brows drew together, and he lit a long-stemmed pipe dramatically, then continued. “We have here the deceased—Lucius A. March, wealthy entrepreneur, uncle of Janice and Melody March.” He nodded to the blonde in the black dress and her “sister,” a nervous woman who was trying to give up smoking and spent every waking minute knitting a long, narrow band, “And on his wife’s side, uncle to the Baron von Bluster.” He stretched out the last name dramatically, until all the guests were laughing. Then, one by one, the actor-detective went through the list of characters, giving each one a motive of some sort.
    Halley tried hard to concentrate, but Nick’s warm fingers, now gripping her waist, were building awhole other kind of anticipation within her. She felt as if fireflies danced beneath her breasts and tickling butterfly wings fluttered in her stomach. She bit down hard on her lower lip and shut her eyes tightly.
    “Don’t worry, my Tessa. If you did it, I’ll bail you out.” Nick’s lips were so close to her ear, she could feel the movement of his words; it was a tantalizing sensation.
    Her eyes shot open. “And you, what if
you
did it?”
    “Then you bail me out. We can’t lose each other again, my love.” His deep, husky voice filled her fully with the fantasy. “Ah, Tessa—Monsieur Detective is about to point out the murderer.” Nick dropped a kiss on the top of her head and directed her attention back to the detective.
    Halley clenched her fists and fought the rushing feelings of emotion. It’s not real, she shouted silently, and forced herself to concentrate on the small man entertaining the guests with a very good imitation of Hercule Poirot.
    “Mr. March, our victim, had an extensive art collection, as we all know.” He nodded solemnly. “You knew that, did you not, Mr. Boyles?” His gaze settled on the butler with whom Halley had had lunch and who now was standing next to her.
    ‘Of course I did,” the man answered. “I worked for the old man. I would have had to be blind not to.”
    The detective laughed merrily. “Blind. You weren’t blind. Not only that, but you recognized great art when you saw it.”
    “Only because I always heard the Baron talking about how valuable it was! He coveted the collection!”
    Nick’s brows lifted in surprise. Halley bit back a giggle and looked up at him solemnly. “Baron, you—”
    “But
I
have an alibi!” Nick smiled smugly and looked around at the guests.
    Halley frowned and wondered which lovely guest would step forward.
    “Our lovely hostess Sylvia Harrington and I were having a chat in the library until nearly two A.M.”
    The imitation Poirot nodded his head. “Absolutely true!”
    Halley tilted her head to one side and looked into Nick’s laughing eyes. “You could have fooled me—”
    “Ah, Contessa, you don’t think I’d cheat on you our first weekend together?” He kissed her soundly then, and the guests voiced delighted approval.
    “The Baron was too enchanted with finding his beloved Contessa again even to have played with the idea of murder,” the detective announced decisively.
    “But you, Ms. March—” He pointed to Janice, the blond-haired niece dressed in black. “Where were
you
at midnight last night?”
    “Me? Don’t be ridiculous!” The woman’s brows lifted arrogantly. She spun around and stared at her sister. “What about her? Melody’s the one with the knitting needles!”
    Melody dropped her band of yarn to the floor, her eyes wide. “Why, of all the—”
    “Yes, and her knitting needles have been found all over the estate. Anyone could have picked them