Wilmington, NC 04 - Murder At Wrightsville Beach

white. No place to hide in all this damned whiteness, he was probably thinking. I decided to keep an eye on him.
    Mickey leaned a hip against the table and idly watched the cat go. "You should have given Devin a tumble while you had the chance. He would have been good for you, smoothed off your prickly edges. Women get bitchy when they've gone without sex for too long. Devin didn't mean no disrespect. Like I say, he was a good guy. All that talk was just an act. A front."
    I put my empty glass into the dishwasher and headed for the stairs to my private suite where I'd lock the door and have a nice long shower, wash off the dirt from the site and from my encounter with Mickey Ballantine. "A front for what?" I asked over my shoulder.
    But Mickey just threw down the cue stick and strode across the greatroom to the master suite. "Wouldn't you like to know," he said, getting in the last word before he slammed the door.

21

    On Saturday morning Melanie and I had breakfast on the top deck. From the next house, the piano player was practicing scales. Melanie had her feet up on a chair, painting her toenails a deep coppery brown. On the other side of the sliding glass doors, Spunky watched us, meowing pitifully.
    Kelly had spent the night with a girlfriend in town and Mickey was sleeping in.
    "I heard Mickey come in early this morning," I said. "Where does he go at night?"
    "His kind of business takes place at night, Ashley," Melanie explained as if that was something everyone should know and understand. "He's going through a rough time as you can imagine. It helps him to keep busy."
    Yes, I thought, but busy at what? "What does Mickey do, exactly?"
    Melanie looked up at me, her eyes wide in astonishment. "Why, he runs a very successful nightclub. You know that. What's ailing you this morning?"
    She set the bottle of nail polish on the table and got up to pad across to the closed sliding glass door. Pulling the door open a foot, she said, "Spunky, come on out. It's okay. Just stay on the deck."
    Spunky placed a tentative white paw on the decking, then froze. Melanie bent down and picked him up. "Come on, silly cat. You can sit in my lap." Carrying the cat back to her chair, she sat down and placed Spunky in her lap. He settled his body on her legs but held his head high, ears twitching, alert to the gulls' shrill cries, to high-pitched children's voices coming from the beach, to the piano in the next house.
    "Mickey doesn't like him," I said. "I'd keep an eye on Spunky when Mickey is around if I were you."
    "Oh, shug , Mickey likes Spunky. That's just his way."
    "Don't say I didn't warn you. Look, we've got to talk. Saturday is a work day for me so I'll be leaving soon. This driving back and forth, downtown and back again is getting inconvenient, Mel. I'm moving back to my house tomorrow. And I think you would be wise to ask Mickey to leave. People are starting to talk."
    I had rehearsed this speech in the mirror while I'd done my hair and makeup. I detested Mickey and I refused to stay in the same house with him. I'd been so angry last night I scarcely slept. The nerve of that guy. My sex life was none of his business. And his indifference to Devin's death was more than I could comprehend. How does Melanie stand him? I wondered.
    Melanie looked alarmed. "Oh no, shug , I've had this summer planned since spring. You, me, Kelly. If it's Mickey that's bothering you, he'll be gone in a few days." She shrugged bare shoulders. "And you know I don't give a hoot about what people say."
    "Well you should. You've got a professional reputation to maintain. And his sleazy reputation is rubbing off on yours and mine. So while we may be rid of him for a few days, like a bad penny he'll turn up again."
    "How can you be so callous?" she asked. "Mickey's in mourning."
    Without warning Spunky leapt out of Melanie's lap, crossed the decking daintily and jumped up onto the railing. "Don't sit up there, you silly cat," Melanie called. "You'll fall."
    "Cats don't fall," I said. "Look he's enjoying the view."
    "You're wrong, cats do fall. But I'll let him sit there for a while. As soon as I finish my toenails, I'm going back inside and taking him with me." She pouted. "You never like any of my boyfriends."
    "I liked Cam. All the rest have been scuzzballs . You deserve better, Melanie. Why you dropped dear Cam Jordan is more than I can understand."
    Cameron Jordan was the executive producer of a successful television show and the president of Gem