Death of a Pirate King - lanyon Josh - Страница 29

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That wasn’t particularly noteworthy; what caught my attention was the manner of his death. He’d fallen off his yacht and drowned off Catalina Island. Hawthorne and a handful of close friends had been drinking heavily that evening -- which was apparently not unusual -- and the Los Angeles Coroner’s Office had ruled the death an accident.

Even more intriguing was the lineup of guests on that fateful night. In addition to Al January and Paul Kane, Porter Jones and the first Mrs. Jones had been present -- as had Nina. This would have been after Nina’s affair with Porter had ended. Or, more exactly, after her father had insisted Porter break it off with her. To my way of thinking, at best that would have been one very awkward get-together.

I considered it for a bit, then I phoned Lisa.

After we got past the pleasantries and unpleasantries -- Darling, I didn’t realize it was still a secret -- I said, “Lisa, at lunch the other day, you said something about hiring a caterer for this SPCA banquet. Have you already done that?”

“You mean at the lunch we didn’t have the other day?”

“That’s the one. Have you already hired a caterer?”

“We’re moving the venue to the Bonaventure.”

I said, “Would you do me a favor and see if you can set up an interview with Nina Hawthorne? She owns Truly Scrumptious Catering.”

“But we don’t need a caterer, Adrien. The hotel will take care of all that.”

“I know, but could you pretend that you’re holding it wherever you talked about before?”

“I suppose so. Why?” She sounded mildly suspicious.

“I’d like to sit in on the interview.”

Silence.

“Why?” she said, and it was her no-fooling voice.

“I’d like to see what she’s like.”

She said tentatively, “Are you thinking of hiring her for some event?”

Oh God. Did she think Guy and I were about to tie the knot?

I said, “Sort of. I’d just like to get a feel for her and her company.”

“All right, darling,” Lisa said, highly amused. “I’ll set something up, and you can tell me what it’s all about later.”

I hung up, and Natalie tapped on my office door.

“Paul Kane called while you were on the phone.”

I sighed. “Thanks.”

I called Kane back and got his PA. After a brief wait, she put me through to Kane.

He greeted me in that mellifluous voice, “I was beginning to wonder if you were ducking my calls.”

I remembered that he had called the previous afternoon, and I’d never got back to him. Granted, I’d been a little preoccupied with the detonation of my personal life, but it did seem a little blase now that I thought about it -- especially when I believed it possible he was the intended victim of last weekend’s poisoning. Was I unconsciously hoping someone would take Paul out?

“Sorry,” I said. “I’ve been a little busy. In fact, there’s something I wanted to discuss with you.”

Amused, he said, “This sounds ominous.”

I said, “Has it crossed your mind that you might have been the target last Sunday?”

It was so abruptly quiet, I wondered if we had lost the connection. He burst out laughing, and I had to hold the handset away from my ear.

“Bloody brilliant! You truly had me for half a mo.”

“Yeah, but I’m not kidding,” I persisted. “I’ve been doing some digging, and I couldn’t help but notice Nina Hawthorne catered your party.”

“Lose a lot of clients to poison, does she?” He was finding it all terribly humorous, pip-pip.

“I don’t suppose all her clients share the history with her you do,” I said.

He stopped laughing. In fact, he was silent for a few seconds. He said, “I gather from your tone you’re aware that Nina and I have had a somewhat tumultuous past.”

“I know you had a child together, and that --”

“Yes,” he broke in crisply. “Quite. Well, you are thorough. I give you credit for that.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m not trying to open old wounds, but it occurred to me that the drink you handed me for Porter might easily have been mistaken for your own.”

After a moment he said, “She wasn’t there. At least --”

“At least what?”

“No. It’s ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous?”

“Nothing. I appreciate your concern. Truly. But…not necessary, I assure you.” Before I could respond, he went on, “Look, the reason I’m giving you a tinkle is I’m having a little get-together at the marina tomorrow. Valarie will be there, and it would give you a chance to speak with her.”

“Sundays are awkward,” I said. “I’m supposed to occasionally give my assistant a day off.”

But Paul persisted -- charming and intractable as ever -- and I finally agreed just to shut him up.

“Marvelous!” he exclaimed after giving me the details. “We’ll see you then.”

“All right,” I said without enthusiasm.

He chuckled at my tone, then said with unexpected seriousness, “Adrien…thank you. I appreciate your concern. I do. But the loss of our child actually brought Nina and me together. Allowed us to be friends again.”

“Of course,” I said. “I didn’t realize.”

“How could you?” he said easily. “But I am genuinely grateful for your friendship.”

“No problem,” I said.

With friends like me, who needed enemies?

Chapter Fourteen

The faded marina sign was missing an uppercase O. But Watch for    Posing Drivers! seemed pretty good advice given the number of Mercedes driven by guys in yacht caps.

I parked and walked past the clubhouse and Olympic-sized swimming pool. Gaily colored pennants whipped overhead. Gulls mewed, swooping and diving over the bobbing pier. The smell of ocean and diesel permeated the air; sunlight glittered blindingly on the blue water.

It looked like a good day to be out on the high seas. Or the low seas. The harbor was already full of boats heading out toward the breakwater -- and even the vessels moored at the dock seemed to be crowded with mateys intent on enjoying the sunshine, salt air, and -- in more than a few cases -- the hair of the dog.

I found the slip number Kane had given me without trouble. His luxury yacht, Pirate’s Gambit, was a sleek seventy-eight-footer with a black hull. A pirate flag flapped briskly on the bow.

“Avast ye!”

I looked up and Kane was leaning over the railing, a bottle of champagne -- very expensive champagne at that -- in one hand. He was smiling down at me. Not for the first time I was struck by how really attractive he was. He had it all, really -- well, all that Hollywood cared about: looks, charm, personal magnetism.

And he wasn’t a bad actor, either. I wondered if his bold and unapologetic sexuality had anything to do with the fact that he wasn’t a bigger star.

I walked up the boarding ramp and Kane came agilely down the ladder from the upper deck to greet me.

“Perfect timing,” he said, lightly squeezing my shoulder as he moved past me. “Everyone’s topside. Go say hello.”

I climbed the ladder to the smaller open deck. “Everyone” turned out to be Valarie Rose and Al January comfortably ensconced in lounge chairs. They were drinking champagne and arguing amiably. Valarie wore an emerald green swimsuit, and January wore orange shorts and some kind of Aztec print sports shirt.

“Welcome aboard,” Valarie called. “I hope you brought your swimsuit. I feel a little underdressed.”

I sat down in a blue and white striped deck chair. “Sorry,” I said. The breeze off the water was chilly, but the sun felt good. Not so good that I was tempted to take my clothes off, but pleasant.

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