Dan Sharp Mysteries 4-Book Bundle. Jeffrey Round
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Further along the hallway hung a realist portrait, an anomaly in the house. The artist’s name meant nothing to Dan. A tag labelled its subject as N.M. The man’s eyes carried a foreboding look while his placid features masked a dark spirit. Dan felt he wouldn’t have wanted to be alone with him, whoever he was.
He turned and almost collided with someone coming along the hall.
“Sorry,” Dan said, surprised by the man’s sudden appearance.
For a moment he thought it was Thom. He had the same northern good looks — wavy hair, tidy sideburns, smooth skin — but with rounder features and none of the razzle-dazzle.
“Hello there,” said the stranger in a voice that suggested competence, sincerity. “Another guest shanghaied in service of the wedding party?”
Dan laughed. “Just a casual hanger-on, I’m afraid,” he said. He held out a hand. “Dan Sharp. I’m with Bill McFarland.”
“Ah! Thom’s old school chum.” A brilliant smile geared down to something gentler. They shook. “Trevor James. Thom’s disreputable cousin from the west coast. I’ve just arrived.”
“You don’t look so disreputable to me,” Dan said. “Though I know appearances can deceive.”
“In this family, disreputable means ‘not rich enough.’ They introduce me with caution.”
“Then I guess I’m disreputable too,” Dan said, feeling the gratification of an instant liking.
“We should form a club. I was just about to head downstairs to find cousin Thom. What about you?”
“Same,” Dan said. “I’ve been out wandering. I should let them know I’m back.”
“Let’s search together.”
Downstairs was empty. From outside came a shriek. Trevor glanced outside. “Looks like everyone’s down at the boathouse.”
They found a back door and crossed an expanse of lawn, past birdbaths and torches set along a flagstone path. In another month it would be unthinkable to have a party out here, but the evening was surprisingly warm and humid, as though it were still the middle of August.
Others had arrived. Bill was talking animatedly to a couple down by the boathouse, gesturing grandly over the water as though describing a plot of land he intended to build on for future generations, or perhaps asking them to guess how much the bay was worth.
Thom turned as they approached. “Daniel, there you are. Bill’s been quite worried.” He made a face at Trevor. “And so should I, now that I see your company. What has my dreaded cousin been telling you about me?”
“Nothing, actually,” Trevor said. “I’ve been talking about myself for once.”
“How gauche! Didn’t you tell Daniel I was the first person you had sex with?”
Trevor smiled indulgently. “No, I thought I’d leave that little mishap unspoken for once.”
Thom turned and pointed to the stables. “It was right over there. I sucked Trev’s cock when he was only nine years old and I was — what…?”
“Ninety?” Trevor said.
Thom made a slightly drunken bow. “Thank you kindly.”
Trevor turned to Dan. “Apparently the blame fell on me when I was seduced by Thom. Another reason I’m considered disreputable.”
“You’re nothing of the sort,” Thom insisted. “But only because you don’t try hard enough.”
“The first person I had sex with was my cousin, too,” Dan said.
“Really? How big was he?” Thom demanded. “Tell us all about it. What was his name?”
“Leyla,” Dan said, and Trevor laughed out loud.
Thom pretended disgust. “A woman? I’m disappointed. I thought you were a purebred!”
“No,” Dan said. “I already told you — there’s nothing pure about me.”
“So I’m learning.”
“Go on,” Trevor said. “Tell us about Leyla.”
“I’d heard a rumour that Leyla had the best tits in junior high school, so one night when I slept over I pretended to be asleep while my hands did a bit of exploring....”
Thom feigned a gasp. “And was she asleep too?”
“Apparently not. She let me feel her up for a while, then she grabbed my winkie dink and gave it a squeeze.”
“Smart girl....”
“I let out a scream. Her mother came running in and separated us. She thought we were fighting. That was the end of it.”
Trevor was laughing.
“Not exactly a tussle over your lost virginity,” Thom concluded. “One day I’d like to hear that story. And maybe even watch a re-enactment.”
A voice hailed Thom. They turned and saw someone heading toward them from the house. The newcomer was small and slightly stooped, as though aged, but dressed in striped cords, paisley shirt, and rock star shades.
“Speaking of lost virgins ...” Thom murmured.
“I heard that,” the man said.
“Good — I intended you to,” Thom said.
“Cousin!” the newcomer said to Trevor. “You look splendid!”
“It’s been a long time,” Trevor said. “How are you?”
“Fine. Very fine. It’s good to see you again.”
“My brother,” Thom said apologetically, leaning in to Dan.
“Richard the Lost,” said the man, shaking hands with Dan.
“Is that who you are now?” Thom asked.
“Yes, it is. I’ve changed my name again.”
“Don’t believe him,” Thom said to Dan. “This is my brother Teddy,” he insisted. “Teddy is a filmmaker.”
“Ted, please….” Ted’s shades glittered in the fading light, reflecting the oncoming sunset as though a movie were playing inside his head.
“And Dan’s a missing persons investigator with a lurid past. He was just telling us about it.”
Ted gave him an appraising look. “How intriguing! Maybe you could sell me your story. How lurid is it?”
Dan shook his head. “Not very, I’m afraid.”
A woman with high cheekbones and ringletted hair stood on the periphery of the group, sipping from a martini glass. She smiled shyly. It was, Dan thought, the smile of someone uncertain who she was.
“Ah! And here’s Jezebel observing everyone,” Ted said. “My leading lady.”
Jezebel laughed a high-pitched laugh for no reason anyone could discern. They turned to watch and her expression transformed: shyness to modesty betrayed. Now she was Julia Roberts spotted buying tampons and toothpaste in a common pharmacy. She tipped her glass at them and her expression changed again, as though she were trying out for the role of a character suffering multiple personality disorder.
“Isn’t this place wonderful?” she cried.
The guests seemed perfectly placed in an artist’s rendition of an autumn lawn party. Others were still arriving, singly and in pairs. Dan watched as a rather shockingly well-endowed young man crossed the yard wearing only a leather jacket with a blue Speedo underneath. Someone else turned cartwheels across the grass. The sticky end-of-summer heat thinned as the light died out behind the hills.
Loudspeakers blared down by the boathouse. At one point