A Dark and Stormy Murder (A Writer's Apprentice Mystery) Read Online Free Page B

energy and their big feet and heads. “Hello,” I said. In response, two tails pumped with great energy.
    “You guys know I’m going out alone, right?”
    Again, the happy tails.
    I sighed as I stepped off the last stair and moved past the dogs, back to Camilla’s study. She was there, at her desk, but not really doing anything. She seemed to be in deep thought.
    “Camilla? I’m sorry to bother you, but I thought I’d check out the town, and the dogs seem to think they’re going with me. Would you like me to walk them?”
    She brightened so much that for the first time I saw evidence of the beauty that I had always admired on herbook covers. “Oh, that would be fine! I used to walk them so much more, but lately I’ve been—distracted. They’ll enjoy it, and they’re fun companions. No one will bother you while you’re walking those two.”
    I was sure that was true, but I did wonder about the rain. “Do you think we’ll beat the storm?”
    She peered out the window. “I don’t think it will roll in for another hour or two.”
    “All right, then.” I put on my jacket; Camilla directed me to the wall hook where two red leashes hung, and I clipped them on to my new friends, who were suddenly so cute I couldn’t recall why I’d been afraid of them. They were cavorting like lambs as they waited for me to open the giant door so that we could take our leave.
    “Good-bye! We’ll be back in an hour or two!” I called. I barely managed to close the door behind me before the dogs tore across the wide porch and headed for the steps. I had the weird sensation that I was water-skiing on land, holding my reins with great concentration as I tried to contain the power beneath them.
    We ran through Camilla’s wide yard and back to the tree-lined, pebbly road whence I had come. For the first time I was truly able to appreciate the splendid Blue Lake scenery, and the town I saw in glimpses between the large trees, lying in wait at the bottom of the bluff. In my mind thoughts bounced around, disjointed. I wasn’t sure what emotion I was feeling; certainly there was an odd disappointment that Camilla had not immediately become my best friend and confided all her hopes and dreams in me (as possibly I had daydreamed she would). And yet I could not contain the euphoria that stemmed from the reality that I had met my idol, that I was going to live in her house,that her newest manuscript sat on a beautiful cherrywood desk in my room—my room!—awaiting my notes.
    My feet moved to the rhythm of my one coherent thought: I met Camilla Graham. I met Camilla Graham. I met Camilla Graham. I felt a very fine mist against my face, but it was exhilarating rather than off-putting. Something about fall air always speaks to my soul, and I felt alive in a new way, ready to grapple with the world and win.
    The dogs, still straining at their leashes as we marched down the slope, led me toward a wide, shady driveway that seemed to slope up toward a more modern-looking house. This, I supposed, was Camilla’s closest neighbor.
    Without warning, a man emerged from the end of the driveway, lighting a cigarette as he walked, one hand on his lighter and the other cupped around his cigarette to keep away the wind. He saw me just as I saw him; I made a startled noise, and he narrowed his eyes at me in displeasure.
    “What are you doing here?” he said.
    The dogs began to growl.

3
    He scowled at her, his dark hair hanging too low over his forehead to be respectable. He wore the disinterested expression and the easy stance of a hero or a rogue—but surely he could not be both, and she feared he was the latter.
    —from
The Salzburg Train
    I WAS MUTE for a moment, shocked by his rudeness. He was scowling in an unattractive way, and yet despite that I could tell he was good-looking, in the way of a rugged journalist or an Indiana Jones sort of adventurer. In fact, he wore a Jones-type leather jacket and a pair of blue jeans. He could have been