Oliver Twisted (An Ivy Meadows Mystery Book 3) Read Online Free PDF Page A

“Into that, are you?”
    “Into what?” I said, then followed his glance. Oh. I still wore just a robe, and both of us had on our latex gloves. Ick.
    He smirked. “You theater people.”
    “Nothing’s going on,” said Uncle Bob. “I…heard a scream, so I came in to see if everything was all right.”
    “Must have been some scream.” The guy sounded like he was talking about a porn film.
    I raised my chin. “Yes. I found a dead body in my closet and I screamed.”
    “A dead body. Right. Well,” the security guy leered at me, “you just keep your screams to a dull roar, and everybody will be happy.” He winked at Uncle Bob.
    He also pushed one of my buttons. Actually, two of them: the “since-you’re-an-actress-you-must-be-a-slut” button, and the “since-you’re-a-cute-blonde-I-don’t-take-you-seriously” button. I especially hated the second. Being dismissed pissed me off royally.
    So I flung open the closet door in a grand dramatic gesture just as the ship hit a big wave. “See for yourself!” I said, and dead Harley tumbled out of the closet and into my arms.

CHAPTER 6
    Surprises, Like Misfortunes, Seldom Come Alone

      
    After the stunned security officer got Harley off of me, and after Uncle Bob asked me if Olive/Ivy/Nancy was okay (blowing our cover if anyone had been listening), and after a more serious-acting security guy came and asked us a bunch of questions, they let us go with a promise not to say anything to anyone.
    Harley’s death had to be connected to the crimes onboard—too coincidental otherwise. And she was an actor. Did that mean theater people were part of the theft ring? I needed to be careful. I scrambled to get ready for rehearsal, raced up to the Pickwick Promenade, and yanked open the door to The Royal Victoria Theater just as a Big Ben-sounding clock struck ten.
    Jonas stood between the front row and the stage, talking to a redhead with a gymnast’s body. I trotted down the aisle to join them. “Pee-yew,” Red said in a five-hundred-seat-theater voice. “What’s that smell?”
    Harley’s body hadn’t smelled at all, since she hadn’t been dead very long. I, on the other hand, stank. After the security detail left my cabin, I realized I had five minutes to get to rehearsal. No time to shower off the fear sweat, so I spritzed myself with something Harley had in the bathroom, only to realize as I ran to the theater that it was men’s cologne.
    In my rushed state, I’d covered it up with the coconut perfume that had been rolling around in the bottom of my bag. I now smelled like an old man on a Hawaiian vacation. Who hadn’t bathed in three days.
    Jonas wrinkled his nose. “I liked the gin better.” Then, in a quieter voice, “By the way, I’m sorry if I was a little harsh earlier. My stepfather—the man I was with—was stressing me out.”
    Up close I saw that Jonas’s eyes were a deep blue, almost indigo.
    He continued, “And when I realized he might be able to smell liquor on you, I panicked.”
    Harley’s eyes had been blue too. I could see them—open, staring, beginning to cloud over…
    “Ivy,” said Jonas. “Are you with me?”
    I pushed the image of Harley’s face out of my head. I couldn’t tell him what had happened. The security guys had sworn us to secrecy until they’d notified her family. Plus, Jonas might be a suspect. The redhead too.
    “Sorry about the smell,” I said. “And I’m sorry about earlier tonight too. With Theo.”
    “You know my stepfather?”
    The redhead tittered. “C’mon, everyone knows Theo. The real question is: who’s the blonde with him?”
    “Madalina is helping him write his memoir.” Jonas’s square jaw somehow got squarer. Was that a clue? Harley had that signed book from Theo. Maybe she and Theo and Madalina had a love triangle. Maybe Theo tried to dump Harley and she fought him. Maybe I’d been watching too many telenovelas.
    “Ada, why don’t you prep the stage?” Jonas said to the