Dan Sharp Mysteries 4-Book Bundle. Jeffrey Round

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      Sebastiano called out in Portuguese and she responded with a laugh. She put the book down and stood, her graceful hands smoothing out a black knit dress. She was tall and willowy, with a gymnast’s breasts. She came toward them and offered her hand. “Hello,” she said. “I am Daniella — Sebastiano’s sister.”

      Dan took the hand and held it. “I’m Dan. It’s very nice to meet you, Daniella. Your brother’s a charming fellow.”

      She smiled graciously, shook hands with Bill in turn, and then threw her arms around Sebastiano, pulling him close and breathing in his scent.

      “My baby sister, you come back to me!” Sebastiano exclaimed over her shoulder to the others.

      “I always come back to you.” Daniella released him and opened her arms to Thom. “And beautiful, sexy Thomas,” she said with a giggle.

      “What were you reading just now, Daniella?” Thom said.

      She shrugged. “It’s nothing — just a Brazilian novel. A stupid thing.” Her boyish, animated features reminded Dan of Kendra.

      “Who’s for a drink?” Thom exclaimed, despite the fact they’d just returned from the Black Swan. Bill and Sebastiano accepted. Dan and Daniella declined. “Not a drinker, Danny?” Thom’s eyebrows rose mockingly. “Bill said you could knock back your share of rye with no problem.”

      Bill smirked. “He’s a drinker, all right. He just prefers it after dark. Along with other things.”

      Dan ignored him. “I try not to drink during the day — even on vacation.”

      “Sensible,” Thom said. “Pop? Juice? Anything?”

      “I’m fine, thanks.”

      “Daniella?”

      Her hair bobbed a response. “No, Thomas. Obrigado.”

      Thom went to a sideboard and splashed drinks into glasses. He handed them around then sat with a satisfied sigh, arms raised on the back of the sofa. “So-o-o,” he said, smiling. “Here we are.” He looked over at Sebastiano. “My darling husband-to-be.” He turned to Bill and Daniella. “And our two lovely best men!”

      Daniella smiled and curled into the chair like a cat. “I am your ‘best man,’ Sebastiano,” she cooed at her brother.

      “You are my best everything,” he replied and then shot a look at Thom. “And you too, my beautiful Thomas.”

      Thom turned to Dan. “Did Bill tell you we’ve got two best men?”

      “No, he didn’t.”

      “Well, we do — Bill and Daniella. I figured there was no need for a bridesmaid, since neither of us is a blushing bride.” He nodded at Sebastiano. “Him least of all, but I don’t think I’d feel right wearing a dress.” He turned to Daniella. “And Daniella’s offered to dress up in a tuxedo for us, haven’t you, sweetie?”

      “Of course,” she said. “For my beautiful best men!”

      Dan stood and went to the window, pushing aside his irritation at how everything seemed to be a great joke. The day was still bright, but the shadows had crept over the hills on the far shore. He turned to the room. “I think I’ll take a walk,” he said.

      No one spoke. The others were so absorbed in their little charades, they seemed to have forgotten about him.

      Ten

      Knox and Calvin

      The Killingworth grounds were extensive, reaching from the road down to the water, and stretching for more than an acre in either direction. Along with the main house, they included a six-car garage, a boathouse and launch, as well as a small barn and stables beside a disused garden showing the remnants of winter-hardy herbs and self-seeding perennials. Dan noticed more of the azure blue flower he’d seen outside the window of the main house. He thought he recognized it as something he’d once been warned against picking, but couldn’t put a name to it. The outer gardens clearly hadn’t felt a gardener’s touch in a long time. The boathouse held a sixteen-foot racing cat and two canoes strapped against the upper beams alongside a collection of lifejackets flung haphazardly overhead. Like the garden, the stables too were abandoned. There were stalls for six horses, and the barn held the remnants of hay bales. A rusted can of rat poison perched on an unpainted window ledge, its ancient emblem warning against improper usage barely visible. The drafty interior had become home for field mice and jittery swallows zooming about in the shadows and through the shafts of light penetrating the beams.

      Dan crossed a deep carpet of pine needles and set off along the shore. Algae-covered rocks and logs extended under the waves, spectral ladders reaching down into another world. He stayed away long enough to dispel the irritation and gloominess that had dogged him since arriving. It was Bill’s weekend, after all; he wouldn’t spoil it.

      By the time he returned, the company had broken up in the living room. Charged by the hour, the room reflected an expectant stillness as light settled over the carpets and caught on the backs of the sofa and chairs.

      Dan went upstairs to look for Bill; the room was empty. Further along the hallway hung a realist portrait, an anomaly in the house. The artist’s name meant nothing to Dan. A tag labelled its subject as N.M. The man’s eyes carried a foreboding look while his placid features masked a dark spirit. Dan felt he wouldn’t have wanted to be alone with him, whoever he was.

      He turned and almost collided with someone coming along the hall.

      “Sorry,” Dan said, surprised by the man’s sudden appearance.

      For a moment he thought it was Thom. He had the same northern good looks — wavy hair, tidy sideburns, smooth skin — but with rounder features and none of the razzle-dazzle.

      “Hello there,” said the stranger in a voice that suggested competence, sincerity. “Another guest shanghaied in service of the wedding party?”

      Dan laughed. “Just a casual hanger-on, I’m afraid,” he said. He held out a hand. “Dan Sharp. I’m with Bill McFarland.”

      “Ah! Thom’s old school chum.” A brilliant smile geared down to something gentler. They shook. “Trevor James. Thom’s disreputable cousin from the west coast. I’ve just arrived.”

      “You don’t look so disreputable to me,” Dan said. “Though I know appearances can deceive.”

      “In this family, disreputable means ‘not rich enough.’ They introduce me with caution.”

      “Then I guess I’m disreputable too,” Dan said, feeling the gratification of an instant liking.

      “We should form a club. I was just about to head downstairs to find cousin Thom. What about you?”

      “Same,” Dan said. “I’ve been out wandering. I should let them know I’m back.”

      “Let’s search together.”

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