A Vineyard Killing Read Free Page A

spare on the job. I want that person caught!”
    Agganis nodded and turned back to me. “What about John Reilley? You say he left the deli just before Mr. Fox’s party went out. Did you see which way he went?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œI’ll have a talk with him.” He turned to Fox.
    â€œYou ever do any business on the island with a man named John Reilley?”
    â€œReilley? I wouldn’t know. I have several agents working for me here and I don’t know the names of all the people they’ve contacted. I’ll check and get back to you.” Fox looked at me. “Was Reilley the old man who was at the counter when we came in?”
    â€œThat was him.”
    â€œIf he wasn’t the gunman himself, maybe he saw someone.” He put his hard eyes on Agganis. “Make sure you talk with Reilley.”
    Agganis never changed expression. “He’s on my list. And speaking of lists, Mr. Fox, I’d like a list from you of all of the landowners your agents have contacted since they’ve been on the island. It’s possible that one of them may know something useful.”
    â€œI’ll talk with my people and give you whatever information seems relevant. I dislike making my business dealings public.”
    Agganis met Fox’s flat stare with one of his own. “The more I know, the faster I can work. How many people knew you were going to be here for lunch? Who decided where you’d eat?”
    Brad Hillborough frowned. “It was my idea. The food is good. The service is fast.”
    â€œWho else knew?”
    Fox and Hillborough exchanged looks and shrugs.
    â€œWe’ll try to find out and we’ll let you know,” said Fox. He turned back to me. “You risked your life for my brother. I thank you again for that.”
    â€œThere was little risk.”
    â€œI’m going to the hospital now to check on his condition. You’ll hear from me later.” We shook hands once more, again running a quick strength test, then he turned and walked away.
    â€œLucky you,” said Agganis. “You’re going to hear from him again.”
    â€œAnd lucky you,” I said. “You have someone to tell you how to do your job.”
    â€œIt’s hard for me to warm to Mr. Fox.”
    â€œThey don’t call him the Savannah Swordsman for nothing. He was an Olympic champion and he’s still a slasher and a gasher.”
    â€œI’d better go to work,” said Dom, and walked away. I went to join Zee, John, and Mattie in the deli.
    â€œHere,” said Zee, handing me my handkerchief.
    â€œI’m sorry I yelled at you, but I meant it.”
    I pulled her against my chest. “I know. I’m sorry I worried you.”
    Her hair was sweet beneath my lips. “Let’s go home and start a fire,” I said. “It’s chilly out. You guys, too. I’ll mix us up some hot toddies and we can look at the whitecaps in the sound while we’re warm and snug inside.”
    â€œAn excellent idea,” said John.
    March is Zee’s least favorite month, because it holds the promise of spring but rarely delivers. The worst of winter is past but the sea and its winds are still bone chilling, and the trees are still bare ruin’d choirs. You can walk the beaches, but you usually have to wear your woolies and down jacket when you do, and there are no bluefish or keeper bass to be caught. Zee was tired of being cold, and ready for warm weather that wouldn’t quite come.
    So sitting with friends before a warm fire was the proper thing for us to be doing that early afternoon, as we sipped toddies and digested our noon meal. We speculated about which of Fox’s many enemies had shot his brother by mistake, if indeed it had been a mistake, and whether the assassination attempt would have any effect on Fox’s island activities.
    â€œThe problem,” said John, giving his drink an appreciative sip,