Page 123 of Sharp Force
“In a few. But first on the agenda is I need a sommelier. I wonder where I might find one?” Dorothy purrs as she clutches Benton’s arm.
She pulls him close, his drink sloshing, and he’s increasingly uncomfortable.
“That would be you!” She kisses his cheek a little too long and enthusiastically while Marino glares. “Let’s peruse what’s in your wine cellar? I’m in the mood for something special. And the good stuff always needs to breeeeathe…!”
Benton throws back another big swallow of bourbon, and I set down my glass. One of us has to be the designated host and stay reasonably sober. It’s looking like that will be me. I know he’s out of sorts and why.
Beneath his placid surface he’s smoldering like a volcano about to spew molten rock and ash. Lucy’s snide comments about him found their mark even after all these years. Insinuations about Marino holding a torch for me haven’t helped.
“Where’s Merlin?” I hear Benton ask as he opens the door beyond the pantry, Dorothy right behind him.
“Merlin is out,” she says on her way down to the basement.
“What?” I look at Marino. “Merlin is outside? How did that happen?”
“She put his collar back on.” He retrieves his drink from a countertop.
“I wish she hadn’t.”
“Well, you know, Doc? I wish a lot of things.” Another swallow of bourbon. “I wish I hadn’t gotten you that fucking spa package. You’ll never use it and I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“I’ve warned Dorothy about the nest of owls, the raccoons, foxes and other animals. Including the possibility of bears, which is what worries me most. They don’t necessarily stay in their dens all winter.” I continue to fret. “Merlin shouldn’t be outside after dark. I didn’t see him when we were driving up to the house.”
Through the open door near the pantry, I can hear the murmur of Benton and Dorothy talking. Her laughter rings like loud windchimes, and Marino glowers in their direction.
“Merlin’s probably in Lucy’s cottage,” he grumps.
“Who fed him?”
“I think Lucy leaves out dry food for him…”
“That’s not good enough.” I tamp down my aggravation. “And I want him here with us.”
Marino isn’t listening. He works on his drink, giving the open basement door a death stare.
“Did you hear her?” he erupts. “Everything she’s doing right now is to piss me off.”
“And it seems to be working.”
“And it’s Janet’s damn fault,” he fulminates. “They’ve been talking ever since I got here. As usual, Janet started picking on Merlin, who yelled bloody murder until Dorothy put his collar back on.”
“She shouldn’t have.” I’m fast losing my patience.
“Like so many fucking things she shouldn’t fucking do!” He splashes Pappy Van Winkle into his glass.
“I’ll check on Merlin while Dorothy and I visit the greenhouse,” I decide. “Are we sure he’s not in the basement where he usually hides?”
“I’m not sure of anything anymore. I don’t know where the hell he is.” Another swallow, and Marino’s nose is turning the same shade of red as his outfit.
As I make my way down the worn stone stairs, I don’t hear Benton or Dorothy. I’m greeted by silence, and it makes no sense. My first thought is something has happened to them. My heart thumps as I wonder if an intruder has broken into the basement.
Dorothy’s been here all day, and rarely keeps the alarm on. She complains that she constantly sets it off accidentally. If she forgets her code, the police show up. I pass through the weedy smell of her pot lab. Beyond the workbench, I pick up a hammer, wishing I had my gun.
CHAPTER 39
Reaching the wine cellar, I can’t believe my eyes. Dorothy and Benton are hugging, her low-cut Santa onesie pressed up against him. I watch stunned as she kisses him on the mouth.
“I was looking for Merlin.” My voice seems to come from someone else.
