Twanged by Carol Higgins Clark Read Free Book Online Page A

to Luke and Nora. “I’m going to have to research that. I’ve put the information from all my datebooks for the past twenty-five years on my laptop computer. My life is in there. Names, places, parties, numbers.”
    “Half the people in it are dead,” Herbert remarked.
    “Lambie, not half!” Louisa said, grabbing his bony knee and giving it a good jiggle. “Nora, I’m the Queen of the Internet. It’s where I do all my research. I’ll teach you all about it this week.”
    Week, Nora thought. She didn’t dare look at Luke. She had told him they were staying for three days at the most. In reply she managed to croak, “That would be very interesting.”
    “Tonight should be interesting,” Louisa pronounced. “I love to get a feel for other people’s homes.”
    You don’t say, Nora thought. “Well, you won’t be disappointed in this place,” she said politely. “Not only did Chappy Tinka build himself a castle, but he’s also going to renovate the servants’ quarters and build a small theatre for his personal use.”
    Luke sipped his wine. “Like the Mouseketeers.”
    Louisa laughed. “Summer stock! How glorious!” she said, gesturing grandly with her free hand. “For my article on the Hamptons I’ll have to include a little section on Chappy Tinka and his wife. Here is someone building a theatre in his own backyard! That’s a long way from the days when people came out here and found nothing but a quiet farming place where people fished for excitement. I’ll write about how the reasons people come out here have changed. Some people like the Hollywood feel out here, others don’t.” She paused slightly, emitting an exceptionally charged hnnnnn. “Tonight provides me with a wonderful opportunity to do some background research for my article, doesn’t it, Lambie?”
    “Wonderful.”
    Luke looked at his watch and turned to Nora. “Honey, it’s four-thirty. I want to unpack the rest of the car and take a quick shower. If we’re going to this party, we should leave here soon. The traffic gets pretty bad at this time of day.”
    “Oh, does it ever!” Louisa agreed heartily. “I’ll have to put that in the article, too. ‘From tractors to Mercedes-Benzes’ . . .”
    Nora smiled. “Why don’t you two relax while we unload the rest of our things from the car and get ready?”
    Louisa smoothed out the folds in her caftan. “Lambie and I will sit here and enjoy this nice view. Oh, I can’t wait to see Regan. She’s such a darling. I’m so sorry she won’t be staying here with us.”
    “Duty calls,” Nora said. “I think she’ll have some fun on this job, though.”
    “Oh yes! God bless the young people! I’ll certainly want to chat at length with Brigid O’Neill and get a good look at that fiddle I’ve been hearing so much about!”
    “She seems like a lovely girl,” Nora said, escaping through the front door and out to where Luke was leaning against the car and massaging his temples.
    “Do you think they’d notice if we never went back inside?” he asked.
    “She’s always a little wound-up when she first arrives. She’ll calm down. I hope.” Nora leaned against her husband, enjoying the scent of his skin and his clothes, as he put his arms around her. The street was calm and quiet except for an occasional bird wanting to make its presence known with a chirp or a caw.
    “Maybe she’ll want to stay at the Chappy Compound to do her research,” Luke said hopefully.
    “Regan would kill us.” Nora chuckled. “I just wonder who she’ll latch on to at the party tonight.”
    “She’s bound to rile some poor soul.”
    Little did he know just how riled.

8
    T his place is something, huh, guys?” Brigid called from her perch at the guest house’s kitchen table as her band members came ambling down the stairs in their bathing suits. Before they could answer, the phone began to ring. “That’s got to be my manager, Roy,” she said as she ran to pick up the cordless phone