Swan Dive Read Online Free PDF

night.”
    “He’s a good boy, our Tod,” Mr. Ballantyne said. “I’m not sure what happened to that lovely young lady. Poisoned, of all things. Certainly a strange state of affairs. We must do something.”
    “I’m already on it,” I said.
    “Good to hear! I spoke to the captain this morning. Let him know we’d want to poke around a bit. I don’t mean to contradict their good judgment, but it can’t hurt to make sure. He said he’d send over the lieutenant.”
    “He just left, sir,” I said. “I’ll put all my attention on the case.”
    “I expect nothing less, Elli, dear,” he said. “We’re off to another refugee camp outside the city. The trains are running today. Stay on top!” And with that, he clicked off.
    I wasn’t sure if he meant me or the refugees riding the rails north to freedom. But I definitely planned to stay right on top of things here.
    Two minutes later, I tracked down Carla in the foyer organizing ornaments while Matty and the kids painted another batch out on the terrace. “Aren’t you popular, chicken? Two suitors in one day. I hope you know what you’re doing.”
    “One suitor and one suit,” I said. “Nick Ransom just gave me a soup sandwich. Accidental. Suicide. Stops by as a courtesy. Ha. Someone hurt that girl on purpose and he knows it.”
    “He said it was accidental?”
    “Yep. He crammed a twenty-minute briefing into a five-minute conversation. Hoping I’d ignore the obvious and he’d keep me off the case.” My director duties at the prestigious Ballantyne charity sometimes stretched beyond board meetings and charity balls. I’m also the real world counterpart to Archibald McNally, performing discreet inquiries for the Foundation’s faithful donors and closest friends. Getting my PI license and working with the police enhanced my skill set. Ransom wasn’t impressed.
    “How did she accidentally kill herself?” Carla asked.
    “Poisoned berries, he said. Apparently she liked to cook with exotic ingredients and mixed up her nightshades. One called belladonna. You ever hear of such things?”
    “Sure. Deadly nightshade. Not sure they’re poisonous after you cook them, though.”
    “Mamacita, don’t mess with Santa Claus,” Zibby sang as she wobbled up to the tree. She’d hung an ornament from her left earring and wore a popcorn strand around her neck. “Mamacita…she’s the one to see.”
    Carla snapped her fingers. “You said it. Mamacita has the most exotic botanicals in the South and she’s right here on the island. Now that’s cooking with some love. If anyone has nightshade, it’s Mamacita.”
    “I’ve never heard of her,” I said.
    “Recommendations, that’s how she rolls,” Zibby said.
    “Behind the Gullah Catfish Café off Marsh Grass Road,” Carla said. “Sublime garden and greenhouse.”
    “If you say so, then I’m headed out,” I said. “Probably be gone most of the day.”
    “Knock twice and take a gift,” Zibby said. She turned to Carla. “You ever buy her alligator butter? Dab it on a slice of green olive and eat it on a saucer…”
    Their conversation faded as I went to the terrace to find Deidre. She was finishing up the last ornaments, carefully placing them on a large steel tray. She’d put her reading glasses on her nose to inspect the paint jobs. The cookie ornaments were shaped like various candies: canes, bon bons, the ones with the twisty wrapper ends. The paint was bright and cheery and sloppy, as if painted by schoolchildren.
    “Deidre, sorry to interrupt,” I said in a low voice so the kids wouldn’t hear us. “I was thinking about those poor dancers at your condo. Were they close to Lexie?”
    “Two were her best friends, the other her boyfriend,” she whispered. “Could it be more tragic? They took their college break early to dance The Nutcracker at Sea Pine one last time. The Sugar Plum Fairy, the Mouse King, the Dew Drop Fairy and the Cavalier. All the lead roles. Is that why the lieutenant