Wilmington, NC 05 - Murder On The ICW

it our way. Joey Fielding was into things that should have aroused their suspicions. And with a word from me into the right ear at the D.A.'s office, they are looking into that now. I fully expect the charges to be dropped soon. Very soon."
    Melanie fairly did a tap dance, and would have except that dancing might have set off a headache. "Oh, Walt, what good news? Did you hear that, sweetheart?" she called to Cam who let out a cheer and pumped the air with his fist.
    Walt looked grim. "I won't rest until they drop the charges and Melanie's good name is restored to her."
    "My clients are sticking by me," Melanie told everyone. "They are loyal and supportive and I love ' em to death." She brushed a sentimental tear from her eyelash.
    Melanie? Sentimental? She had turned over a new leaf. I gave her a hug.
    "Well, why was she always hanging around Joey all summer, every time I called?" sulky Brie wanted to know, talking about Melanie like she wasn't there.
    Melanie's eyes narrowed into dangerous slits and I was afraid she might tell moody Brie where to do and what to do when she got there -- new leaf or no new leaf -- but she must have instantly considered that the listing of a multi-million dollar waterfront property was at stake.
    She smiled. And Melanie's megawatt smile could light up a dark cave. "Brie, sugar," she said sweetly, leaning forward to place a hand on Brie's bare knee, "I told you. I was helping Joey acquire that property for his restaurant. And helping him find the best people to renovate it. Just doin ' my job, sugah , same as I'll do a bang-up job for your folks." She included Bunny and Clay in her dazzling smile.
    Clay cleaned his throat with a harrumph. "Guess I was a mite hasty there, Melanie, jumped to conclusions. The wrong conclusions." He stretched out his hand. "Friends?"
    Melanie took his hand and shook it. "Friends!" she said warmly.
    "You've got the listing back. We'll take care of the paperwork tomorrow. Okay?"
    "Perfect," Melanie responded. She leaned into Bunny and gave her a little hug. "Let's do lunch, sweetie. On me. We'll go downtown. Try something new. Let me look at my schedule and I'll give you a buzz. Okay?"
    "Sure," Bunny said. "I always thought the world of your mama and daddy. You, too, Melanie."
    Walt stood up and slapped David on the back, the two of them just about the same size, tall, burly. "Well, you done it, you old scalawag. We ought to dominate you for a Nobel Peace Prize. You're as smooth as old Jimmy Carter any day."
    Walt grinned at David, then he went to the wet bar and fixed himself another drink.
    And where was our hostess, Crystal Lynne, while all these warm and fuzzies were taking place? Out on the bridge deck in shorts and a halter, soaking up the sun and chatting up Ali Shariff .
    I went out on the pretext of greeting my hostess but really to satisfy my curiosity, remembering how I had seen them together just last night. They'd been lost in each other.
    They were stretched out side by side on two lounges, speaking in undertones. Was David blind? Didn't he care? Or would she pay later?
    Ali had on shorts and had removed his shirt. He had a lot of dark hair on his chest and legs and I could only think that you'd have to change the sheets every morning or else use a velcro brush to mop the hair out of the bed. But some women like that sort of overt masculinity.
    I flashed back to Jon's long, lean body next to mine last night. Some blonde hair sure, but not this grizzly bear's pelt.
    I said "hey," flashed them a smile that was fueled by my memories of my night with Jon and not by the sight of them, and returned to the fly bridge. A sumptuous feast was spread on a large pedestal table that was mounted to the deck. I scooped up a shrimp with my fingers, dipped it in red cocktail sauce and popped it into my mouth.
    We had already passed Whiskey Creek and were heading for Carolina Beach.
    David, who had been engaged in a quiet conversation with Walt, noted our location, and headed for the helm. "Let me take over here," he said to Cam. Jon gave up the helm chair but remained standing nearby, eyes riveted on the water ahead.
    Walt brushed by me and made for the stairs.
    David said, "We're about to sail into Snow's Cut and the current there can be tricky. It's swift so you've got to know what you're doing."
    We passed through the cut, the water a bit rough, then sailed out into the mighty Cape Fear which was rushing headlong to the ocean.
    I reached for another shrimp,