Death at King Arthur's Court by Richard; Forrest Page B

but because he suspected that the real reason for the taunting exposure was a seductive game that she persisted in playing. He wasn’t able to measure the seriousness of her intent, and wasn’t about to explore it further.
    Skee slowly shifted position on the parapet. He turned in a half circle until Rina’s head pointed directly toward the house, where Lyon stood framed in the window of his study. She smiled. Her lips mouthed words lost in the wind. Skee shifted position again as he slowly lowered her to the ground. She slid from his arms and performed a perfectly executed back flip culminating in a dexterous curtsey in Lyon’s direction. They gave her a polite smattering of applause.
    â€˜That performance was nearly as good as the day I ran with the bulls in Pamplona,’ Ernest said.
    â€˜One does not run with the beasts,’ Garth said. ‘It’s corrida de toros.’
    Rina’s eyes locked with Lyon’s until her companion grasped her elbow and steered her toward the far end of the patio.
    â€˜Your sister reminds me of a gypsy,’ Lyon said to the man intently bent over the computer on his desk. ‘She has a certain wild elan about her.’
    â€˜Change that to uncontrolled lust for eagles, men and money, not necessarily in that order. Although a rich man who donated to her Eagle Foundation might head the list.’
    â€˜Her new boyfriend has money?’
    â€˜Whatever Skee has besides muscles, it’s certainly not money, but I’m not about to ask Rina what it is.’
    Clay Dickensen, working at Lyon’s desk, had the hair and skin coloring of his fraternal twin. Brother and sister had the identical shade of black hair that appeared a darker hue when contrasted against their alabaster skin. That combination accentuated their sensual features. Their builds were also similar, although the primary differentiating characteristic was Clay’s serious and nearly perpetual half frown, as contrasted against her uninhibited openness.
    Lyon sank into the worn leather chair behind the desk and sipped on his sherry. ‘How bad is it?’
    Clay thumped the thin pile of records by the computer. ‘Rotten and lousy!’ he said as he swivelled the chair to face Lyon. ‘Your financial records are a travesty. I’m going to have to do a lot of interpolating, since I can’t ask the IRS for another extension.’
    â€˜Interpolation sounds like accountant talk for guessing.’
    â€˜It’s also secret CPA code that means, I hope to God you don’t get audited.’
    â€˜I don’t want to cheat.’
    â€˜With the condition of your records, even strict honesty is going to look suspicious.’ He bent over the keyboard with a deepening of his usual frown. ‘If you had only kept a travel diary like I suggested last year. I could have given you a hell of a lot more legitimate travel deductions.’
    â€˜I tried it,’ Lyon said.
    â€˜I know,’ Clay replied. ‘I read it. The first two entries were terrific. You had dates, exact amounts for train fares, taxis, and the lunch with your publisher, all duly noted. Then I got to page three, which turned into a long description of two Wobbly monsters riding the roof of an Amtrack train as it struggled back to Connecticut in a snow storm.’
    â€˜Who’s Rina’s new beau?’ Lyon asked in an attempt to divert talk away from his tax problems.
    â€˜Skee Chickering is an appropriate addition to my sister’s gypsy caravan. He’s not only a professional bodybuilder, but is now her business partner in a fitness studio. She leads the acrobatic classes while he instructs on the machines, power-lifting, and tends the juice bar while she goes eagle watching.’
    Lyon laughed. ‘I don’t know if it’s due to her interest or not, but the bald eagles are returning to the river valley.’
    Clay turned his chair at an angle that allowed him to