Wilmington, NC 05 - Murder On The ICW

minute."
    "Just can't get enough of me, can you?" he said, lifting me off my feet and carrying me down a hallway to the bedroom. Candles twinkled softly and a bottle of champagne was set in an ice bucket. There were many pillows on the bed, and a plump comforter already turned down.
    "But we won't be able to dance in here," Jon teased. "Bed takes up too much floor space."
    I nuzzled his warm neck. He smelled of aftershave and his natural smell, and uncannily of sunshine. "We could dance lying down," I murmured. "I've heard that's fun too."

26

    David Boleyn met us at the gangway and welcomed us into the salon. He was in an expansive mood, cheerful and hearty. Playing to his captive audience, no doubt.
    "Let me show you around," he said, after kissing both me and Melanie on the cheek.
    I caught Melanie's eye over his shoulder. Her face wore the same puzzled expression mine must have. What gives? we were thinking.
    With a friendly hand on Jon's shoulder, David pointed out the upper deck arrangement. "Wet bar over there. Help yourself to anything you want, although Crystal's got a spread fit for royalty up on the fly bridge.
    "Over there on the port side is the galley. Beyond that is the day head." He turned to Melanie and me. "Otherwise known to you girls as the 'powder room'. Up in the bow is the pilothouse but we'll be piloting from the fly bridge today."
    To Cam and Jon he said, "The fly bridge has an upper navigation station, electronics suite, touch screen PC monitoring system -- the whole shebang."
    In David's world, women would not be expected to know about such things as a Northstar GPS/plotter. David had a lot to learn about women.
    "And behind you there is the aft deck," he indicated.
    I looked through curved sliding glass doors to the aft deck where two flags -- the American flag and the Confederate flag -- fluttered in the breeze off Motts Channel.
    I turned my attention to the interior decor. Lush. Tasteful. The compartments and the paneling were made of African mahogany laminates. There were a sofa and club chairs, an oval dining table that seated six with a mirrored headliner centered above.
    We moved past the galley and up a few steps into the pilothouse, made a sharp left and took the stairway to the fly bridge where the other guests were having drinks. Here, in the open fly bridge, we would party under a sunny and cloudless sky, while the black and silent waters of the Intracoastal Waterway ferried us south.
    With David and Cam at the helm talking mariner's talk, we cruised out of Wrightsville Marina, south past Bradley Creek, and into the waterway.
    You could have knocked me over with a feather when I saw who the other guests were. But I worked the room, or worked the fly bridge to be correct, shook hands and said hello nicely. You have to give Mama credit for teaching her girls good manners -- under the most trying of circumstances.
    Of course I was pleased if not a bit surprised to see Walt Brice there. "I didn't know you knew David," I said.
    "Oh, Dave and I go way back," he replied, giving me a light hug. Walt was a bachelor; no female companion accompanied him.
    Brie Bitterman sat huddled between her parents in the corner of an elevated white vinyl L-shaped settee, looking like she'd rather be in a dentist's chair. How had David managed to drag her on board? On the stage she exuded presence, but in social situations she was as sulky and withdrawn as any resentful teenager.
    I said hello to her and to Clay and Bunny Bitterman . They weren't exactly pleased to see me or Melanie.
    David got up and left Cam at the helm to pilot the ship and Cam seemed overjoyed to be piloting this top-of-the-line watercraft. Jon slipped into the empty helm chair and chatted with him as we navigated past Hewletts Creek on the starboard side.
    With one arm around my shoulder and the other arm around Melanie's, David turned us to face the Bittermans . "Now, I love all you guys. And I want my friends to be friends with each other. So as a personal favor to me, kiss and make-up, folks."
    Melanie squirmed out from under his beefy arm. Don't manhandle me, her attitude clearly said. David did not take offense.
    Speaking directly to Clay, David said, "Melanie Wilkes is the best darn realtor this town has ever seen and I want you to give back the listing on your house that you took away from her. She no more killed Joey Fielding than I did. Am I right, Walt?"
    "You are right, David, and the police are coming around to seeing