Birds of Prey : Previously Copub Sequel to the Hour of the Hunter (9780061739101) Read Online Free

particularly happy about it.
    The tipsy looks Margaret beamed in Marc’s direction were about as subtle as a fully loaded Mack truck. And about that enticing. Reynaldo and his assistant waiter, an attentive Portuguese named Joaô, were delivering the crème brûleé when Naomi Pepper, the woman sitting next to me, leaned over and whispered, “If Marc hadn’t shown up, my money would have been on Joaô to get lucky tonight. As things stand, I’m betting Marc is it.”
    Startled and struck momentarily dumb by her comment, I glanced furtively in Naomi’s direction, only to have her wink at me. That little bit of byplay was enough to draw Margaret Featherman’s sharp-eyed attention. “Wait a minute, you two,” she said. “What’s going on over there? No secrets allowed.”
    According to my scorecard, Margaret was well on her way to being snockered. I was grateful the only kind of driving she’d be doing at the end of the evening would be in the elevator going back to whichever deck her cabin was on.
    â€œDon’t work yourself into a lather, Margaret,” Naomi said. “I was just asking Mr. Beaumont here if this was his first cruise.”
    This was, in fact, a bald-faced lie, but I figured my best tactic was to follow Naomi’s lead. “First one ever,” I responded brightly. “If this is how they feed us at every meal, no one is likely to starve.”
    Margaret was looking straight at me when I started to answer, but then her eyes wavered and her glance slid away. The back-and-forth movement of her irises told me she was watching someone make his or her way across the room. From the tightening of her bare shoulders and the down-turned stiffening of her lips, I could tell that this new arrival was someone Margaret wasn’t thrilled to see.
    â€œMother!”
    â€œWhy, Chloe,” Margaret Featherman responded enthusiastically. As she spoke, she rearranged the separate features of her face into what passed for a welcoming smile. “How wonderful to see you.”
    I looked up and saw at once that Chloe could be none other than Margaret Featherman’s daughter. She was a blonde, unreconstituted, and younger, early-thirties version of her mother, but the resemblance between the two women was striking. In terms of prickly personality, she was evidently a carbon copy.
    â€œWhat the hell are you doing here?” Chloe Featherman demanded.
    â€œI’m taking a cruise,” Margaret returned. “And don’t be so rude. Say hello to my friends. You know this is the time of year when we always get together. We usually spend the week in Reno. This time we decided to come cruising on the Starfire Breeze instead.”
    Chloe Featherman glanced perfunctorily around the table and nodded briefly to each of the women seated there. When her eyes reached Marc Alley, who was fumbling to his feet, napkin in hand, her jaw dropped.
    â€œMarc!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing here? You were supposed to sit at the same table with Dad and me and some of the others. We’re upstairs—in the other dining room.”
    â€œI’m so sorry,” he stammered uncomfortably. “There must have been some kind of misunderstanding. When I got to my cabin, there was a message waiting for me about a change in the dining arrangements. The note said I would be at table sixty-three in the Crystal Dining Room rather than upstairs in the Regal.”
    With her face a study in barely controlled fury, Chloe Featherman swung back to face her mother. “I doubt there’s been any misunderstanding,” she said pointedly. “And I’m sure I know who it is who left you that message. Stay out of Dad’s business, Mother,” Chloe warned. “You have no idea what’s at stake here.”
    â€œOh, I know what’s at stake, all right,” Margaret Featherman replied. Her voice dripped ice and so did her