Bermuda Heat Read Online Free Page A

heAt 17
    know if he had hit the right one. Instead, he Googled the history of the place. All he knew of Bermuda were pink sands and expensive living. It turned out there was a lot more.
    First discovered in the early sixteenth century it proved the bane of sailors for centuries. More than five hundred ships lay wrecked on reefs guarding the island’s shores more effectively than most navies managed. A fleet of ships on their way to the Virginia colonies were separated in a storm and the Sea Venture foundered on the reef. All 150 on board survived. Eventually, two replacement ships were built and the castaways finished their voyage to Virginia.
    People kept returning to the islands and a British colony was set up. It was still a part of the British Empire; all efforts to have true independence had been defeated to date.
    All very interesting, but it didn’t get him or David any closer to understanding what had happened forty-one years ago. He shut down his laptop and reached for his BlackBerry again.
    He had one more call to make, to Desmond Hayward, his best friend. He needed someone to look after the cat and dog while they were gone and Des was one of his few friends who tolerated animals. Des wasn’t as impressed as Becky had been.
    “I’ve heard about that place. They are not nice to our kind of people.”
    “Our kind of people? You mean Democrats? Library card holders? Spelunkers?”
    “You—” Des stopped, momentarily silenced, “You’ve never been spelunking in your life.”
    “Okay, forget spelunking, stamp collectors then—and before you say anything, I did collect stamps,” Chris said with a barely suppressed laugh which quickly became a jaw splitting yawn. He blinked, but the tiredness wouldn’t go away. “When I was a kid, knee-high to a grasshopper.”
    Des snorted. “Well, you know what I mean,” he sniffed.
    “It’s a holiday, Des. Let’s not make it into something more.

    18 P.A. Brown
    Can you watch the animals for us?”
    “Yes, I’ll watch them. Trev loves the mangy mutt so he’ll be happy to take him out for a run. You have to promise you’ll be careful. You know what you’re like; you just can’t stay out of trouble. And don’t forget how sick you were just last week.”
    “Like anyone will let me forget.”
    “Hey, we all love your stubborn, self-destructive, pretty little tush. Just don’t do anything too strenuous. Really, how hard is that? Miss Trouble.”
    “I am not—never mind, I can’t win with you guys.” Chris yawned again. “I’ll take care, really I will, hon. I’ll send you a postcard.”
    “Forget that. Bring me a juicy twenty-something beach boy.
    That would be yummy.”
    “Trevor ought to love that.”
    “Sure he would. You don’t know bad boy Trevor. You tell Fido not to shed all over my Hugo Boss.”
    Chris laughed and hung up, after promising to talk to Des before they left. He went upstairs, set the alarm for four-thirty so David wouldn’t catch him in bed, and crawled between the covers. A sympathetic Sergeant leaped up beside him.
    David was supposed to be off work at five. Today, he actually made it home by five-thirty, giving Chris enough time for a wake-up shower, a change into clean clothes and the table set. When he heard the car door slam shut, he slid two seasoned filets onto the grill beside the foil-wrapped baked potatoes already cooking.
    David came into the kitchen and bussed Chris on the cheek, his five o’clock shadow rasping Chris’s freshly shaved face.
    “Something smells good.”
    “You have time for a shower,” Chris said. He pointedly rubbed his own face. “And a shave.”
    David kissed him again and plodded toward the stairs. He returned twenty minutes later, looking almost human. This time the kiss he gave Chris was a serious one.

    BeRMudA heAt 19
    “Come on.” Chris pulled away, albeit reluctantly. “Let’s get some chow in us first.”
    “Dessert then.”
    “Promise.”
    Sunday, 12:00pm, Carlyle Street,