Free Mystral Murder (Julie O'Hara Mystery Series) by Lee Hanson Page B

nightmare, still frightening and vivid in her mind. Cecile had been talking about her deceased husband Robert Sinclair, who had turned the third floor of the old house into a small library. With her heavy French accent, “Robert” had sounded like “Row Bear”.
    “What time is it?” Michelle asked.
    “It’s midnight. Go to sleep, my love.”
    * * * * *
     
     
     
    T H U R S D A Y
    ~
     
    CHAPTER 24
    J ulie was outside perusing “The Mystral Bulletin - Day Six”, which Miguel slipped under their door every morning before dawn. She had just lowered the itinerary and reached for her coffee when Joe stepped out onto the balcony, razor in hand, half his chin covered with shaving cream.
    “I wasn’t there when she went overboard, Julie.”
    “What? Adrienne? Of course, you weren’t.”
    “No. I mean I know I wasn’t. I remember! We were standing at the elevator and I couldn’t get it to work. I was probably pushing the wrong damn button. I decided to take the stairs down, but Adrienne didn’t come with me. There was a door to the deck right there. She said she was ‘going for a walk’ or something. I didn’t care; I was looking for another bar! I went down to Deck 5, to the Promenade, but everything was closed. I remember seeing all those stores with their roll-up cages pulled down. Then I thought of our mini-bar and I came back here.”
    “I thought that’s what you did,” Julie said. “I threw out a lot of little bottles. There was cognac, scotch, vodka, Canadian Club and I don’t know what else. The only thing you left was a couple of beers in the refrigerator.  You had to be here awhile to drink all of that.”
    “You don’t know what a relief it is to remember, Merlin. Clyde Williams had me worried with that ‘accident’ scenario.”
    “Well, I never doubted you for a moment. Speaking of Clyde Williams, you should tell him, Joe. By the way, we’ve got the day free; my interview with Conde Nast Traveler’s been cancelled.  It was in the Bulletin.  Wonder when they were planning to tell me they had the art auction there, instead? ”
    She stood up. “I’ll pick up around here while you finish shaving.”
    “Okay. I’m starved; let’s go to the buffet first.” He looked at his watch, “It’s only seven-thirty.  We’ve got plenty of time.  We can stop by Clyde’s office before I go to AA.”
    Julie heard him singing in the bathroom and smiled.
    ***
     
    They were in Horizons, their trays loaded with fresh fruit, bagels and omelets and Julie was teasing Joe. “What? No grits?”
    Declining help from the waiter at the end of the buffet, they looked around for a table by the floor to ceiling windows. The restaurant was packed, especially the window seats where diners were watching the US Coast Guard cutter, which was still accompanying the Mystral.
    Then Julie spotted Jon Reece, eating his breakfast and simultaneously typing on his laptop. With all his gear, he’d managed to hold down a window table for four, unchallenged.
    “Hi, Jon. Mind if we join you?” Julie asked.
    Clearly, he did, but it would have been bad form to refuse. “Not at all,” he said, closing the laptop and setting it on the chair next to him. “Please, sit.”
    “I saw you cancelled our interview, Jon?”
    “Not me, Julie. The Captain. Val Gilman, the Cruise Director, caught me before I left my cabin. You probably have a message on your phone, too.”
    “My publisher will be disappointed,” Julie said. “No offense, Jon, but I’m just as happy to have the day free.”
    “None taken. I was just restructuring my piece. There’s nothing preventing me from using guest interviews.  I’m going to do a few more and write a story anyway.”
    Their conversation paused as a passing waiter poured coffee and asked if anyone wanted juice, which they all declined.
    “Will you write about the Man-Overboard?” Joe asked.
    “You bet! Conde Nast won’t want it, but I don’t care. I can sell this story anywhere.