Barbara Silkstone - Wendy Darlin 02 - London Broil Read Online Free PDF Page B

cabernet. Benny said we would hold the champagne until Roger and I had rescued the last Lost Boy. Then we would celebrate with the best bubbly.
    As my host appeared to grow tipsy, I tried to trick him into sharing his new information. He held fast. “When our dear Roger arrives, then I shall have the pleasure of telling you both what our next challenge is. I would not want to deny Professor Jolley the pleasure of being in on the kill.” He laughed and topped off our glasses.
    Benny, former associate of a cannibal-dictator, asked all sorts of questions about my humble little life in Miami. I’d done nothing to warrant the attention of someone with his exotic history, but soon he was commiserating with me over Treanna and her fear of abandonment.
    “You are her anchor on this planet,” he said. “I sense she would spin off into space without you.”
    I told him about Matty and the gambling and my concern that she might lose custody of her granddaughter if she were arrested.
    “It seems such a petty thing and hardly a crime. We shackle the little people so the bullies may thrive. Perhaps there is a way to teach this Matty how to fish…? Yes?”
    “Meaning?”
    “There must be some business you could help her start that she might enjoy enough to stay awake. An inexpensive way to play to her talents, perhaps?”
    “Hmm. I shall think on it. You’ve inspired me.” We clinked our wine glasses.
    Benny took a tiny silver spoon of Beluga caviar and placed it on a paper-thin wafer then bit, a look of pleasure spreading across his face. He fixed his eyes on me as if choosing his words. “It must be lonely for you living alone.”
    That was a question that came up frequently. I often felt like an “i” that folks thought needed dotting. Smiling, I answered, “I love the quietude. Never have to worry if I’m disturbing anyone. Never have to be disturbed.”
    “There must be a downside.”
    “Nope. I don’t even have a dog, so I don’t have to worry about him eating my face off.”
    Benny shot me a startled look. “What?”
    I laughed. “It’s an urban legend… the woman living alone who dies, and she’s found weeks later with her face eaten off by her beloved hound.”
    “Wendy, dear… that is awful.”
    “It is pretty gross. Dark humor.”
    He chuckled, “What type of man would please you?”
    “Are you coming on to me, Benny Hannah?”
    “No, my dear. Just wondering if our Roger fits your criteria.”
    I sat back and thought for a long minute. “The type of man who would appeal to me? He would be smart, funny, and the kind of guy who really listens to me as he’s putting down the toilet seat.”
    Benny choked on his wine and put his napkin to his lips to catch the spray.
    “You are an outrageous minx!” he croaked. “A perfect match for Roger,” he muttered under his breath.
    “What did you say?”
    “Brilliant! Our sweets are here.” He deflected my question.
    I whipped into my dessert with enthusiasm. My treat was a passion fruit soufflé. Benny had a chocolate sorbet.
    “My belly is busting,” he said after licking the last remnant from his spoon. “Shall we gamble?”
    “On what?”
    “I’ll show you.”

Chapter 10
    S amuel pulled the limo to a stop in front of a canopied entrance just before midnight. The small brass plaque on the wall behind the doorman read, “London Gaming Club – Established 1850.”
    Benny must have been a regular, as the tuxedoed doorman grinned when he saw us stepping from the car. Samuel drove away as Benny and I walked through the gold-leafed and etched glass doors.
    “This is one of the finest casinos in London,” Benny whispered in my ear. The air buzzed with kinetic energy spun from the stacks of brightly colored chips clicking on the tables.
    I’d landed in the middle of Casino Royale. I cut my eyes to Benny, and he smiled happily like a kid who was sharing his biggest secret. “You can be my lucky charm,” he whispered. “Just don’t touch the