Read Killer Listing for Free Online

kind of vessel, from ferries to rowboats.
    Nevertheless, a man’s life was at stake and Darby knew she could overcome her body’s reactions. With trembling hands, she gripped the side of the boat and climbed aboard.
    It was a sleek sport fishing boat of fifty-five or so feet in length. Darby could make out a tall fly bridge rising into the darkness, equipped, no doubt, for serious fishing. Darby willed her legs to stop shaking and surveyed her surroundings. A wide deck, with two swivel chairs and what appeared to be a dive platform. Slowly she searched the area for any signs of Jack Cameron, but found nothing.
    Next Darby turned her attention to the bow of the boat. Crawling along the side of the vessel, she held on to the metal rails and felt for anything out of the ordinary. The deck seemed to be empty.
    The center of the boat was dominated by a large cabin that appeared to be all glass. A door led into the cabin, and to the right was a ladder leading up to the fly bridge. Darby tried the door and to her surprise it opened. She listened for sounds but heard nothing but the background rhythm of the waves.
    Inside the cabin it was even darker, and Darby let her eyes become accustomed to the gloom. She noticed a faint, spicy scent lingering in the air—pipe tobacco? This was the salon, a cozy space with cushioned banquettes and a few tables. A sconce was to her left. Hoping it ran off the boat’s battery, Darby tried it.
    Light flooded the cabin and Darby sighed in relief. Quickly she scanned the salon, three staterooms, the galley, and two heads, but there was no sign of anyone.
    That left the fly bridge.
    Darby exited the cabin, turning the light back off as she left. It wouldn’t help her on the bridge, but it had made searching the boat’s many rooms quicker. She began climbing the ladder, her sandals slapping against the metal rungs. Perhaps Jack had already been located on the vast Cameron property, and in the excitement, calls to the other searchers had been forgotten.
    The fly bridge appeared to have a large banquette plus two chairs equipped for steering. A roof overhead provided protection from the sun, but also appeared to house some sophisticated electronics, no doubt having to do with finding schools of game fish. Darby circled the bridge slowly. She felt the seats of the chairs, touching nothing but upholstered cushions. As she approached the wheel, she paused. Something was huddled on the deck.
    It was a man.
    Quickly Darby checked for a pulse. At first she couldn’t locate anything, but then she felt a faint throb, very weak. As she whipped out her cell phone, a voice called in the darkness.
    “Darby?” It was the lilting speech of Alexandra Cameron.
    “On the fly bridge,” she yelled. “I think I’ve found Jack.”
    _____
    “You’re late.” Chellie Howe unlocked the door of the hotel suite and stepped aside, allowing her husband to enter.
    “Am I?” Foster McFarlin checked his Rolex with a diffident air. “I thought I was right on time.”
    Chellie watched as he passed her, his suit tailored perfectly to his well-muscled body. How was it that the simple action of his striding across the room could still arouse her, bring color to her cheeks and a longing in the pit of her stomach? She closed the door and made her voice light.
    “The least you can do is zip me.” She strode to where he stood and pivoted on her stilettos, hands on her hips, waiting. She felt him touch the small of her back and linger a moment too long.
    He guided the zipper up slowly, and turned her around.
    “You heard the news.”
    Chellie nodded. She’d been expecting this. “Which development was she in?”
    “Esperanza Shores.” His voice was tired. “I can’t believe it. Some maniac jumped her in one of the units. She was stabbed repeatedly.” Chellie looked at his face and saw agony etched on the handsome dark features. He’s in pain , she realized. In pain over Kyle Cameron’s death.
    Anger began to rise in