Dead By Dusk Read Online Free Page A

Sorrento?” He shrugged. “It will take a bit. But you mustn’t worry. This is Italy. All will be well.”
    Stephanie had already learned that the last two sentences Arturo had offered were his catchall comments, and part of his eternal optimism. This is Italy. All will be well.
    She sure as hell hoped so. At the moment, she couldn’t begin to see how, or why.
    Her luggage was still strewn by the chair where she sat with Arturo in the club room where her troop would be performing. Nice room. The stage was ample, but intimate. Tables were arranged throughout, with a bar at the far rear of the room and chairs along either side, so that a good number of people could be accommodated. The basic skit for the troupe revolved around the fact that they were a group of world scientists who gathered together at The International Club to converse, share information—and brag. The comedy was built around the fact that none of them ever really had anything to brag about, and therefore, they most frequently had to make up their stories. Audience participation was an integral part of the fun. It was the kind of show that Stephanie loved, and despite the strange circumstances—doing a show in English in a small town in southern Italy that was just beginning to draw tourists—she had at once been enthused about the project.
    But getting together a group of unknown variables—actors—in the time given was a bit daunting.
    â€œWould you like to see your room?” Arturo asked brightly. “You must be very tired, traveling all night—and then all day.”
    â€œYes, of course, thank you,” Stephanie said, rising. She started to gather up her various bags, but he shook his head. “No, no, we have help! Leave your things, and Giovanni will come for them.”
    She smiled, but took her backpack anyway. She never left her passport lying around. But she touched nothing else, determined that she wouldn’t let these people think that she might even begin to imagine that something could come up missing.
    â€œYou are outside, in one of the beach houses—cottages, bungalows, whatever you’d like to call them. You have the best one, naturally, but since there are twenty-two of them and we’re not at anything near capacity, we’ve got your cast in them as well.” He winked. “Honestly, though. I chose them. Yours is the best! And closest to the back, or theater side entry to the club. Reggie thought you would like that,” Arturo informed her.
    â€œWhatever Reggie says,” she murmured.
    He grimaced ruefully. “Come this way. There is a door that leads to the beach, and your little cottage. It is delightful. And you can slip back into the theater area without having to go around or come through the rest of the club. You will love it.”
    He was so delighted with the arrangement that she nodded and forced a smile. “Sounds wonderful.”
    She followed him up the few steps to the stage and then into the backstage area. There was a loading dock, and a regular doorway. Arturo opened it and moved on out. A small, paved area gave way to the beach and, not fifty yards away, a scattering of small cottages that sat right on the water. The sea scent was strong on the air, but pleasant. The breeze was light, wafting, and felt magnificent against her cheeks.
    A short walk brought them to the door where Arturo handed her a key. She accepted it, opened the door, and stepped into her little cottage.
    Reggie had done well. It was delightful. There was a living room with a light Berber carpet and modern furnishings to match. The draperies were beige with soft blue sea patterns—mermaids, starfish, and other delicately drawn little creatures. Steps led to the loft—the bedroom, she assumed—while the living room went straight into a dining area, and back past that, a kitchen with doors that opened directly to the beach. She could faintly hear the fall of