Murder of a Needled Knitter Read Free

could still be on their ship.
    Before Skye could work herself into a state of panic, Wally strolled up, deposited their drinks on the small table next to her, and dropped to his knees beside her chair.
    He nuzzled her neck, and said, “I like your hair up like this.”
    â€œYou just like the fact that it didn’t take me an hour to get ready,” Skye teased. She’d twisted her mass of chestnut curls into a knot on top of her head, figuring there was no use wasting time with a flat iron when she was spending the afternoon in the heat and humidity.
    â€œTrue,” Wally admitted, trailing kisses down her cleavage while he caressed her leg. “You’re beautiful without all the extra fuss.”
    Distracted by the sensation of his fingers stroking the inside of her thigh, Skye made a noncommittal noise. Wally had won her heart years ago, but their wedding vows had unlocked her soul. She’d thought the physical attraction between them couldn’t get any hotter, but the freedom to enjoy each other without the lingering guilt—or need to go to confession—had ratcheted the whole experience up to an entirely new level.
    Wally joined Skye on the double lounge chair and they were indulging in some serious lip lock when she heard a sniggering voice yell, “Get a room!”
    Color flooding her cheeks, Skye jerked away from Wally and saw a crowd of kids staring at them. She deliberately turned her head away from the group, pretending indifference to their presence, and discreetly checked to make sure that her bathing suit still covered every body part it was intended to conceal. Wally opened his mouth to say something, but Skye squeezed his hand and gave a tiny headshake. She’d been a school psychologist for enough years to know better than to engage a pack of adolescents on the prowl.
    Ignoring the teens, Skye said in a conversational tone, “Let’s take our drinks and walk over to the observation tower. I want to get some panoramic shots with my new camera. The island information flyer in the
Diamond Dialogue
said the view is breathtaking.”
    â€œFine,” Wally grumbled, then stood and gave Skye a hand to assist her to her feet. “But I told you we should have rented a bungalow.”
    â€œTwo hundred dollars for a hut the size of a walk-in closet?” Growing up as part of a farming family, Skye had learned not to blow extra cash on foolishness. And as an employee of the public school system, she earned an income that barely allowed her to make ends meet. Frugality was now second nature to her. “And we’d only use the bungalow for three or four hours. I don’t think so.”
    â€œWe can afford to indulge ourselves on our honeymoon,” Wally insisted. “And it would have been worth it to have some privacy.”
    â€œWe already have a suite on the ship,” Skye protested. “Which I love.” She still wasn’t used to Wally’s attitude about money. He was by no means a spendthrift, living off his salary as the Scumble River police chief, but since he’d grown up the son of a Texas oil millionaire, his idea of what was extravagant and Skye’s idea tended to be wildly divergent. “But we really could have been just as comfortable in a nice cabin with a balcony, instead of a suite.”
    â€œMaybe.” Wally helped Skye on with her cover-up, handed her the margarita he’d put on the table, and picked up his beer. “But I wanted the best for you.” He smiled down at her. “Besides, I told you I got a really good deal from the travel agent in town.”
    â€œWhy was that?” Skye matched her steps to Wally’s long strides as they headed toward the observation tower. “I would have thought a New Year’s cruise would have been especially popular.”
    â€œSure.” Wally took a swig of his Kalik. “But the travel agent said that because she had a big group going, we