Ron Base - Tree Callister 03 - Another Sanibel Sunset Detective Read Online Free PDF

mind sitting out here, do you Mr. Callister?”
    “Not at all.”
    “It’s so pleasant at this time of day. At any time of the day, really. Are you familiar with the island?”
    “I was here with my wife when we first moved to Captiva,” Tree said as he followed Miram Shah over to where four wicker armchairs were grouped facing one another around a glass-topped table.
    Leaning heavily on his cane, Shah eased himself onto the cushions of the chair facing away from the sea. Tree sat opposite him with a view of the water and pleasure craft throwing off silver wakes as they made their way toward the marina at the Collier Inn. Trembath, Tree noticed, perched in the wicker chair midway between himself and Shah, the referee for this afternoon’s encounter.
    “I love it here,” Miram Shah said as he settled into the chair. “I love the sunshine of course, but also the peace and serenity.”
    “Does your own country not provide similar peace and serenity?” Tree asked, curious as to what Shah might reveal about where he came from.
    Shah smiled vaguely and said, “Ah, here we go,” an instant before the houseman reappeared carrying a silver tray upon which was set a single tall glass of sparkling water. The houseman presented the glass to Tree, bowed slightly, and left. A breeze roused the wind chimes at the end of the porch.
    Trembath leaned forward and said, “Mr. Shah has asked you here today, Mr. Callister, in regards to a matter requiring utmost discretion.”
    He paused to give Tree a chance to reply. Tree had no idea what to say, so he just looked at Trembath who cleared his throat and sat back, his gaze turning to Shah—the signal for the old man to speak.
    “It is my fiancée, Mr. Callister,” he said.
    Tree said, “Yes,” as though everyone’s fiancée was a problem.
    “Two days ago, she left the house, and hasn’t returned,” Trembath said. As he spoke, Shah looked pained, and seemed to grip his cane more firmly.
    “Do you have any idea where she might have gone?” Tree looked at Shah when he asked the question.
    Shah shook his head, but it was Trembath who said, “That’s what we would like you to find out.”
    When Tree remained unexpectedly silent, Trembath added, “Discreetly of course. This is a highly embarrassing situation. Mr. Shah would not want it to be made public.”
    Which begged the question why the public might be interested in Mr. Shah’s relationship problems. Instead of asking, Tree said, “Mr. Shah, why did your fiancée leave?”
    “What difference does that make?” Trembath sounded cross.
    “Well, if she left to get a loaf of bread and never came back, that’s one thing. If she left because she and Mr. Shah had a fight, then that’s something else again.”
    Shah’s fist opened and closed on the handle of the cane, as if to express his tense emotional state. “There was a misunderstanding,” he said softly. “As a result of that misunderstanding, Elizabeth left.”
    “Elizabeth?” Tree said.
    “Elizabeth Traven,” Trembath said. “The woman in question is Elizabeth Traven.”

5
    Is everything all right, Mr. Callister?” A concerned expression had popped onto Trembath’s placid face.
    How could he answer that? Nothing was ever all right as far as Elizabeth Traven was concerned. She haunted his life, the darkly beautiful specter he could never quite shake, even on Useppa Island, talking to elderly Pakistani spies. Wherever he went, Elizabeth somehow managed to reinsert herself into his life. He was, as he usually was with her, at once appalled—and intrigued.
    Tree managed to say, “You are engaged to marry Elizabeth Traven, Mr. Shah?”
    Shah nodded and said, “Yes.”
    Trembath studied Tree carefully before he said, “We understand you know Mrs. Traven.”
    “I’ve done work for Elizabeth Traven.” An understatement if there ever was one.
    The light lit Shah’s face. “Very satisfactory work, I understand. That is why Elizabeth recommended