Murder at the Bellamy Mansion Read Online Free PDF Page B

new state port they’re fixin’ to build down at Southport. Says there’s gonna be lotsa money to be made on that project.”
    “ The last I heard,” Jon said, “they haven’t even come up with funds for the reconnaissance study yet.”
     
    At four that afternoon I met Melanie at the Crescent Moon gift shop in the Cotton Exchange down by the river. My sister Melanie is a heart stopper with her long flowing auburn hair, big green eyes, and ivory complexion. At twenty-one she had been voted Miss North Carolina, representing our state in the Miss America beauty pageant. She hasn’t changed much since then, still has her killer figure, and knows how to dress.
    She has had more boyfriends that I can count. Many of them were bad boys. And then darling Cameron Jordan came to town, cast one look in her direction, and fell really hard. It took Melanie a couple of years and a few disastrous experiences for the bad boys’ appeal to wear thin, and for her to finally appreciate what a prince she had in Cameron Jordan.
    Melanie and I do not look anything alike. I look like Daddy, the late Superior Court Judge Peter Wilkes, with his dark hair, gray eyes, and serious expression.
    Melanie is the spitting image of Mama, Claire Chastain Wilkes, of the Savannah Chastains.
    Mama and Daddy reside in heaven now, having left us girls behind to look after each other. Thank god, I had Cameron to help me manage Melanie. She can be rather a handful - unpredictable and headstrong.
    Today she had on a little dress with a matching coat, in a carmely brown tone. While I, not having much time to dress that morning, had thrown on a hoodie and sweat pants. But at least in a sweet pink that complimented my skin tones.
    The gift shop was filled with light from two large windows, and the glass shelves were backlit so that everything seemed to sparkle and shimmer. As we strolled around the shop, admiring displays of hand-blown glass art objects, she said, “You look good with long hair, Shug. Didn’t I tell you that length would help straighten out the curl? You have just enough natural wave and curl for it to look pretty.”
    I grinned. I was feeling on top of the world after my visit with Willie and knowing he was going to make it. “Yes, big sister, you are always right.”
    She examined me closely. “I declare, Ashley, you are positively radiant. There is not a skin care product in this world that can give you that glow. That glow comes from getting good sex, and lots of it.”
    “ Melanie!” I exclaimed, glancing around to see if the other customer in the store had heard her.
    “ Don’t ‘Melanie’ me. I’ve had enough good sex in my life to recognize the result.” Then she pouted and gave me a look of utter chagrin. “Just wish I was getting some now. Here it is supposed to be my honeymoon, and what am I doing? Sleeping alone. A pox on that Nelda Cameron!”
    The other customer left the shop and Joan and Mike Loch, the owners, hurried up to greet us. “Melanie Wilkes! And Ashley. How are you girls?” Joan said. “Only you’ve got new last names now. I’ll have to remember.”
    “ That’s all right, Joan,” I said. “Both Melanie and I are keeping our surnames. Wilkes we were born and Wilkes we shall remain.”
    “ Sure enough,” Joan said. “Times have changed.”
    “ Are you guys still living on the river?” Melanie asked.
    Joan and Mike, a glass blower himself, live on a boat, a forty-two foot Jefferson Sundeck, docked near the Port of Wilmington.
    “ Because if you ever decide you want more space and a backyard, it is a buyer’s market out there. You can practically steal a house.”
    “ Melanie,” Joan said sweetly, “I promise you if Mike and I find time away from this shop to go house hunting, it will definitely be with you. Now what can I do for you? Are you looking for something special?”
    “ Very special,” Melanie replied. “I want the most impressive piece of glass art you’ve got in the shop. It’s