Vineyard Fear Read Online Free PDF

vermouth around in each glass and tossed it out, then filled the chilled glasses with icy vodka and dropped two olives in each glass. He handed one glass to me. The perfect martini.
    â€œCheers.”
    â€œShalom.”
    The vodka was smooth and cold as a mortician.
    â€œDamn fine.”
    â€œSit.”
    We sat and looked at one another. I tried but failed to see him as beautiful. He was fiftyish, a bit over six feet tall and short on hair. He was developing a slight belly that embarrassed him not at all; he held that it was emergency rations in case of atomic attack. When not on the island, he lived in Weststock where he was a professor at the college, specializing in literature written in European languages not spoken for at least a thousand years. He had once told me that one of the things he liked about his work was that it was completely useless. Just the thing for a man as basically impractical as himself, he said. I found his claims of being incapable of handling practical matters to be greatly exaggerated since he seemed handy enough when he needed to be.
    â€œYou found the fish,” I said.
    â€œI did, indeed. I have a little fellow in the fridge who will feed the three of us nicely. Stuffed with my wife’s prize stuffing recipe and ready to be popped into the oven. You will drool when you eat it, but the secret of the stuffing will not be revealed to you in spite of your pleas. Not even the beautiful Zeolinda Madieras, for all her manifest charms, will extract it from me.”
    â€œIs that the recipe I gave Mattie last year?”
    â€œI was afraid you’d remember that. Oh, well. Yes it is, so you know what to expect. Julienned beets and carrots on the side and white rice.”
    â€œIs that my julienned beet and carrot recipe?”
    â€œNow that you mention it. But I got the rice recipe off of the box.”
    â€œSounds like an excellent meal.”
    â€œIt will be. Well, here’s to summer and the end of another academic year.”
    We sipped our icy martinis.
    â€œI take it that Jack Scarlotti and his gang got back to Weststock in one piece,” I said.
    â€œIndeed. I got a bottle of very good Scotch as thanks. Young Dr. Scarlotti and his crew apparently did some good work while they were down here and Jack was settled down to devote his summer to organizing it and getting the results published. I am to get a copy of the book for my collection. I can probably get one for you too, if you want it.”
    â€œWhat were they doing?”
    â€œI never asked, but I dare say it will be of great interest to some people.”
    â€œI doubt if I’m one of them, but if you get an extra copy of the book I’ll take it.”
    â€œSmart thinking, J.W.” John glanced out of a window. “I do believe that Zee has arrived.”
    She had, indeed, arrived, and naturally she looked terrific. As John waved her through the kitchen door, I met her with a chilled martini for which I got a nice-tasting kiss.
    â€œI may have succeeded in training you, after all,” she said.
    â€œYou mean the bit about the hardworking woman coming home and being met by a clean house, her man, and a martini?”
    â€œThat’s it.” She sat down and crossed lovely long legs. I ogled them shamelessly. She smiled and pulled her skirt up another inch. Then, surprising me, she allowed a little frown to ripple across her face and pushed the skirt down again.
    What was that all about? And what was it that made a glimpse of forbidden flesh more exciting than a beach full of bikini-clad nymphets?
    â€œVery nice, Zee,” said John, “but I’ll thank you to keep your clothes on. My wife is two thousand miles away, remember, and if you keep adjusting that skirt I might have a spasm.”
    â€œDon’t listen to him,” I said. “Adjust, adjust!”
    â€œIt’s splendid to have this power,” said Zee without expression in her voice. “No wonder