Murder In Her Dreams Read Free Page B

blond young man looked more like one of the
hunks from those bodybuilding ads than the stereotypical
accountant. Ian had been more interested in Bert’s knack for
keeping clients happy and his accounting acumen at saving them
money.
    Sharon, however, gave Bert a lavish smile and
touched his upper arm. “Justin was telling us you and he are off to
lift weights.”
    He grinned back and pulled on Justin’s black
ponytail. “Yeah, thought this bod here needed to shape up a bit.
All study and no play, what a dud that makes. Right, dude?”
    “Yeah, right,” Justin muttered as he slammed
the cover of his book.
    Ian liked both young men. Good workers and
intelligent, they attacked every task he gave them with gusto.
Sharon knew them both from frequent visits to his office, but she
was being especially friendly tonight. Her way of getting back at
him for forgetting their date? Feeling a little guilty, he ignored
her flirtation.
    “Good luck then. Be sure to lock up when you
leave.” Ian took Sharon’s arm, and they left the office.
    Only a few weeks ago, he had asked her to
marry him and sometimes had to remind himself things had changed.
He had looked for a fiancée the same way he evaluated new clients.
He asked Sharon because she was talented, successful, financially
sound, and very much in control of her own life. He congratulated
himself that she had beauty and brains too. Love had not entered
into it. He considered himself past the age for such a notion. He
needed a wife who could help his business.
    Outside, they walked toward Ian’s Accord in
the parking lot.
    “Justin’s a nice kid,” Sharon observed, “and
handsome, too. So is Bert.”
    Ian gave her a sideways glance. “Oh, you like
young men?”
    “No, I prefer men old enough to know better.”
She gave him a teasing smile and squeezed his arm.
    He patted her hand in response. “Like me?”
They had reached his gray Accord, and he unlocked the door for
Sharon.
    “Just like you.”
    He drove to the Adams Tavern, located only a
few blocks from his office, to save Sharon’s shoes, and so he would
have the car convenient to take her home afterwards. This late he
had no trouble parking near the entrance. In Columbus and its
suburbs, people dined early. By eight, except for the new, trendy
restaurants, the crowds thinned.
    The Tavern provided quiet, comfortable dining
and food Ian liked. Its brick exterior matched well with the
character of colonial Worthington. Sometimes he thought the town
officials took too much pride and spent too much effort to retain
the charm of its New England heritage.
    The town, established in 1803, had adopted a
building code for the town square that required red brick and
colonial style architecture. Even the big shopping mall north of
the square echoed that design. The Tavern followed the same model.
Inside, the dark wood and the uneven stone floor continued the
colonial theme.
    A smiling hostess greeted Ian and Sharon as
they entered. They followed her down a short entry hall, through a
large room with a high ceiling whose heavy wooden beams called to
mind a baronial hall, and then into a cozy den-like room. Leather
upholstered booths lined two sides of the room and a field stone
fireplace took up most of a third. A cheery fire burned on the
stone hearth, giving off pleasant warmth and providing a welcome
contrast to the dark wood paneling.
    The hostess led them past two white covered
tables occupying positions adjacent to the windows of the fourth
wall and two more tables in the center of the floor. The hostess
seated them in a booth next to the fireplace. The large, brass coat
hooks on tall posts at each high-backed booth reminded Ian of the
hook on the back of his office door and work he had yet to
complete.
    Sharon waited until the server, a fresh-faced
young man dressed in the usual white shirt and black pants, took
their drink orders and left. She studied Ian with cool green eyes
that made him suspect she had not yet