Dan Sharp Mysteries 4-Book Bundle (18 page)

It was midnight. The band had moved on to a more northerly clime, the tempo chilled to the formal rhythms of a Viennese waltz, a confection that might have been popular in Hitler’s time. Older couples dominated the floor, feet shuffling, heels lifting gently as though nostalgia demanded a softer tread. Someone had coaxed Lucille Killingworth up onto the floor. The mother of the groom moved gracefully, scarf twisted lightly about her throat. She danced with a white-haired man who smiled a lot, though he seemed in deadly earnest. He looked down frequently, either worried about stepping on his partner’s feet or following some imaginary numbered dance steps on the tiles. Dan noticed his expression — admiration laced with desire seen through the eyes of a barracuda. This man had designs on the Merry Widow.

Bill and Thom had disappeared in the melee. The minister was chatting with another dykish type over in a corner. Dan saw he’d been right — she laughed and held her drink like a trucker bedding down at a pub for the night, clearly no longer discussing ecumenical concerns.

Sebastiano and Daniella had retrieved their discarded clothing and sat cooing at one of the tables. He pushed her hair from her face with his fingers. Whatever their argument, they seemed to have made up. A candle basked in the glow of Daniella’s pale skin, making her look sad and fragile.

Dan toyed with getting another drink, but decided against it. He felt flushed. He descended to the lower deck for a breath of cool night air. A couple huddled against the railing. It was the giddy dentist with the diamonds and his older boyfriend. They looked up at his approach.

“Cheers!” said the older man, raising a champagne glass and sipping from it before placing it on the railing.

Dan gave a friendly nod and leaned into the opposite corner where the rail curved against the back of the boat. They’d started their return. From above, music and laughter floated out over the water. On either shore, lights from passing houses gleamed like earthbound stars. Now and then, they swept past other vessels manoeuvring their way home.

The boat made a marked shift to the right, following the channel. The forgotten champagne glass inched toward the rail’s outer edge. Dan was about to say something when the boat shifted again. The crystal fell in slow motion, an arc of whiteness hitting the waves with a silent splash before disappearing in the blackness.

Dan left the amorous couple and made his way upstairs. A squadron of servers hoisted trays of hors d’oeuvres, passing him on the way to the ballroom. He felt cooler but his head throbbed. He stopped in the corridor and leaned against a doorway.

A voice came through the wall, the tones low and serious. He couldn’t make out the words. He stood there, not really intending to listen.

“You’ve got to pull yourself together.” It was Thom’s voice, followed by what might have been a stifled sob. “Look, it doesn’t mean anything. Not really.”

“But you’re
married!
” Bill’s voice rose in pitch, like a child whining about not being given a promised treat.

“It’s only a ceremony, Billy,” Dan heard Thom say in consoling tones. There was a long silence. Dan’s blood jumped with adrenaline as he waited.

“You’re the only one I’ve ever loved,” he heard Bill say. “In my entire fucking life!”

You have no idea how difficult this is for me
. Dan felt sickened, torn between leaving and staying to hear more. Curiosity won out.

“It’s okay, Billy. It’s okay,” Thom said soothingly. The talking died to a murmur. Then he heard Bill ask, “Who am I?”

“You’re my hot little cabin boy,” Thom answered.

Dan felt a flash of rage that had preceded some of the stupidest acts he’d ever perpetrated. His fist raised itself of its own accord. He wanted to pound on the door and demand the lovers emerge red-faced,
in flagrante
. In his mind, he saw himself denting the filing cabinet and remembered how good it had felt. He fought the rage, sucking in air even as his fist resisted.

There are mirrors in junk shops, silvered over with age and mildew, reflecting whatever lies before them pressed against a mottled, timeworn backdrop. Without breaking the glass, they shatter the illusion by giving an image of the outer world while simultaneously revealing the thin edge of reality beneath. This was what Dan felt he was looking at. His hand recoiled with a shiver of recognition; his stomach rebelled.

He lurched down the passage in search of a washroom, barging past startled guests. A changeroom presented itself, the door half open. Inside, Sebastiano stood before a full-length mirror. Dan’s anger bobbed, shifted, and found a new focus. He toed the door open with his foot. The boy looked up.

“Need some help?” Dan said.

Sebastiano watched curiously as Dan tugged at the ends of his bowtie. Next, Dan straightened the suspender straps, smoothing them over Sebastiano’s shoulders as though dressing a child. The boy leaned back with an expression of trust. Muscles strained his shirtfront. Dan knew there’d be no struggle.

“You and your sister dance well together.”

Sebastiano’s chin rose and fell in what might have been agreement. Dan’s move was smooth, unhurried. He knew the hypnotic effect gentleness had on boys like Sebastiano, even the experienced ones. His fingers reached around the back of his neck. He waited till the boy looked him in the eye then pulled their faces together. They kissed more deeply and intimately than Sebastiano had kissed Thom after their vows. The sensation was wet and soft; their teeth clicked together a few times before they got the rhythm. After that, it was simply a matter of closing the door and getting down to business. Sebastiano’s pants slid off easily, as clothes do when worn by men whose bodies fit the cut, with no excess flesh to consider. Dan unzipped his own trousers and let them slide to the floor, pulling his underwear taut across his thighs. Sebastiano turned his broad back to Dan and braced himself against the mirror.

Dan knelt and breathed in the smell of funk. His tongue twitched and darted. He felt the short sharp bristles and heard Sebastiano moan. He slid a glistening finger, then a second, deftly up into moist warm flesh. Sebastiano made what passed for welcoming noises. Dan stood. Quickly, before Sebastiano could protest, he plunged in. He felt warmth, wet, goo. It felt good. Familiar, yet not. He hadn’t fucked without a condom in years, not since a drunken fling in a garage that had been left open on Hayden Street when he’d been followed down the lane at four a.m. after a night of dancing. It had taken an excess of alcohol for him to be reckless that time. This time all it had taken was rage.

There were no protests as he rode the Brazilian stud. The boy arched himself at the mirror, face pressed against the glass. Dan gripped the boy’s abdominals, straining and forcing himself all the way in. There were no protests about that, either, only murmurs of pleasure and a few encouraging words in Portuguese. A drop of sweat glistened and fell from the tip of Dan’s nose. It landed on the small of the boy’s back, rolling down to where Dan’s cock joined Sebastiano’s body in slithery, piston-like motions. He came quickly, discharging completely before pulling out with a solitary plop. Sebastiano let out a groan and came in jerks and spasms onto the mirror, his spunk whiter than any Dan could recall. It hung there, almost muscular in its clinging, not running down. Dan grunted, as if in reply. His cock swung sloppily between his legs, a telltale smudge on the head. A pungent smell filled the air.

Dan picked the boy’s underwear up from the floor and wiped himself off with it. For good measure, he wiped the mirror too. The boy turned to face him. “Good fuck?” Dan said.

“Yeah — good fuck.” The boy grinned.

Dan smiled, but his anger was still intact.
Good, yes — but I bet you won’t be too quick to brag about it. Maybe I’ll spread the word myself
.

“I have to go,” Sebastiano said without a trace of sheepishness.

“Me too.”

Dan handed over the boy’s underwear with the stain smeared across the bottom.

The boy’s smile vanished. “I cannot wear this,” he said.

Dan looked around, as if perplexed. He brightened. “Here,” he said, handing over his own silk boxers. “You can have mine. A little something to remember me by when you have your honeymoon fuck.”

The boy looked at them dubiously then shrugged. “Why not?” He pulled them up over his legs. They fit.

Why not, indeed?

“They look good on you,” Dan said. “Keep them. It’s the least I can do.”

Gentle arabesques of light fanned over the ballroom and across the dancers, glittering diamonds creating a fantasy landscape, the happy ending to some fairy tale. Trevor stood just inside the ballroom door. His face lit up when he saw Dan.

“Hey! I’ve been looking for you. How’s it going?”

Dan had to fight to make eye contact with him. He was suddenly and utterly consumed by shame. Whatever had possessed him only minutes ago had begun to slacken like a balloon losing altitude. The blood urge for revenge was gone, leaving only the afterglow of remorse.

“I think I just did something very stupid,” he said.

Trevor watched him curiously. “Anything to do with your boyfriend?”

Dan nodded. “My boyfriend and your cousin. It seems they’ve been a good deal more than best friends. My stupidity, I guess.”

Trevor put a hand on Dan’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said in that calming voice. “They’re not a nice crowd — my cousin and his friends. They’re awful people. Selfish and insincere. I shouldn’t be saying this, but you seem like a nice guy. I wouldn’t want to see you get hurt.”

Dan shrugged, his face a portrait of self-reproach. “Too late.”

Trevor attempted a consoling smile. “Is there anything I can do? Anything I can say?”

“No, but thanks.”

A clamour broke out in the hallway behind them. It grew in volume as a small crowd rushed into the ballroom with Thom at its head. Thom seized on Trevor and Dan. “Where’s Sebastiano?” he demanded.

Dan felt a sickening sense of oncoming retribution. He’d expected there might be a scene over what he’d done, but he hadn’t expected it to happen so fast. And certainly not here, in front of the wedding guests.

Without waiting for a reply, Thom turned and looked over the crowd. “Has anybody seen Sebastiano?” he yelled over the music.

Faces turned to regard him with a mixture of amusement and consternation, unsure of the intent of this impromptu game. Several people shook their heads.

“I did,” Dan said. “I saw him just now.”

Thom whirled to face him. “Where? How long ago?”

“A few minutes ago. Four or five. He was in a changeroom off the lower deck.”

Before Dan could say more, Sebastiano came through the door like a spirited horse approaching the pack.

“Thank god!” Thom exclaimed. His voice held an edge of panic. “Someone said you fell over the railing into the water.”

“No.” Sebastiano shook his head, bewildered. “I am here.”

“They said you fell over,” Thom insisted, his face set with concern. “They said your jacket was on the railing.”

Behind them the band went through a change of pitch, moving southerly again, notching the rhythm up to a jerky reggae beat. Outside the windows, the darkness suddenly seemed immense.

“My jacket? My jacket is on the chair — over there.” Sebastiano pointed to where he’d been sitting half an hour earlier. His unclaimed jacket sat waiting. Confusion passed over his face, followed by fear as the impossible suggested itself. “Where is Daniella?” He looked around in a panic. He grabbed Thom’s arm. “Where is she? Where is Daniella?”

“I don’t know,” Thom said, shaking his head. “I haven’t seen her.” He turned to the others. “Has anyone seen Daniella?”

Murmurs broke out around the room, but no one replied. The band continued, oblivious. The dancers stopped one by one as realization settled in that the mood in the room had changed. Sober faces regarded them. Dan saw Bill enter from the opposite side of the room.

“Anyone?” Thom repeated, his voice tense. “We’re looking for Daniella.”

“I saw her about twenty minutes ago,” said a bald man with a concerned face. “She was on the upstairs deck. I think she had on a jacket like Sebastiano’s.”

Sebastiano let out a moan.

“Look,” Dan said decisively. “Let’s find out for sure what’s happened. Who said they saw someone fall overboard?”

“We did,” came a voice near the back of the room.

They turned to see an older man in black tie standing with a woman in a mauve dress, their faces pale with concern. “My wife and I definitely saw someone fall from the upper deck.”

“We thought it was that young man.” His wife pointed at Sebastiano.

“Where was this?” Dan said.

“We were on the back lower deck when someone toppled from above. Whoever it was fell right past us.”

Sebastiano looked around in terror. He latched onto Bill. “You’re a doctor. Do something!”

“Okay, let’s not panic,” Thom commanded. “We’ll notify the captain to turn the boat around.” He turned to Sebastiano. “We’ll find her — don’t worry.” His eyes stopped at Dan. “Would you please organize a search on board for Daniella? She’s got to be here somewhere.”

Dan nodded. “I’ll start upstairs.”

“I’ll go with you,” Trevor said.

Twelve

This Terrible Place

The lights of Glenora appeared up ahead like a cord pulling them onward to a terrible fate. The band had stopped playing as the ballroom filled with grave faces. Most of the guests stood silently by or talked among themselves in concerned whispers. It was clear Daniella was nowhere on board. The outside decks were abandoned after a quick search failed to reveal anything. Bathrooms and anterooms had also been checked. Authorities were notified of the disappearance, and a search-and-rescue team from Trenton was called out. Within fifteen minutes a helicopter could be heard sweeping overhead, its searchlight mapping the waves. A local volunteer crew had already formed. A dozen small craft operators were patrolling the darkened waters of the bay, looking for signs of struggle or movement.

The ship docked at Glenora and the guests filed off in a light drizzle. Officers from the Picton OPP detachment met them onshore. They listened as Thom explained how Daniella had fallen from an upper deck.