Moon Island

 

"You've got that look in your eye,"



said Allison.



"What look?"



"That don't- mess-with-me-or-I'm- gonna-rip-out-your-throat look." As she spoke, she slowly reached over and gently pried my fingers from my iPhone. The bottom corner of the phone's screen was already cracked from my last conversation with Danny.



"Remember," she said. "He's a total pig."



"And that," I said, getting up, "is why I keep you around."



"You keep me around?" said Allison, grabbing her plate of unfinished eggs and hurrying after me. "Maybe it's the other way around. Maybe I keep you around."



"Sure," I said, and picked up my pace.



"Hey, where are we going?"



I opened the French door that led from the balcony into the magnificent kitchen. I looked back at her. "We're looking for a killer, remember?"



"Well, I think we found him."



"Maybe," I said. "Maybe not."



"So, where are we going?"



"I've got some investigator stuff to do."



"And what am I supposed to do?"



I motioned to the others who were still sitting outside on the deck, enjoying what was, I suspected, rare sunshine. Indeed, storm clouds were already gathering on the far horizon. And if I wasn't mistaken, they looked even nastier than the ones from yesterday.



"Do what you do best," I said. "Talk."



"Gee, thanks."



"Mingle. Get me the lowdown. Let me know who sets off your own inner alarm system."



She opened her mouth to say something else, but I shooed her back outside. She pouted a moment or two, then stuck out her tongue and headed back out onto the deck.



I paused in the kitchen, closed my eyes, and mentally searched the home again. I saw everyone, even Edwin asleep on his cot in the basement. One person was still noticeably absent: Tara. Perhaps she was out of my range.



So, I zeroed in on the one person I was looking for, and headed off.



Deeper into the massive home.