TURTLE DOVE (Alton Rhode Mysteries Book 7) by Lawrence de Maria Page A

College. It’s a Christian college in Westchester. That’s near New York City, isn’t it?”
    “Just north of Manhattan,” I said, getting up for another piece of pie, which both women declined.
    That bode well for a slice of breakfast pie. I did gladly refresh their coffees, however. 
    “Alliance has a Manhattan campus in Greenwich Village,” Anna said. “I’m hoping they send me there.”
    “Anna, if you come to New York, you must call me,” Alice said. “I live in the Village. Before you leave, I’ll give you my contact information. And I’ll be teaching, myself. At Barnard. Very near Alliance. I want you to stay in touch.”
    ***
    The next morning, on the way to the ferry, I dropped Alice off at the tennis courts for more torture from the indefatigable Jeff. She gave Anna a big hug and got another promise to stay in touch.
    “She is so wonderful,” Anna said as we left.
    “She thinks you are, too,” I said.
    As we approached the ferry terminal we passed a row of fishing boats.
    “There is that man from the luncheon,” Anna said.
    “What man?”
    “The one who tried to keep us out.”
    I spotted him right away. Vole. Leonard Vole. He was using a hose from the dock to wash down the deck of a good-looking cabin cruiser with a fishing chair in its stern. He was wearing shorts, with no shirt, and muscles rippled across his tanned back. He looked more at home in that outfit than in the suit he was probably forced to wear at the reception for Ashleigh Harper.
    “I did not like him,” Anna said. “I thought he was very rude.”
    “He was out of his element,” I said. “He’s probably a better fisherman than he is a security guard.”
    “That wouldn’t be hard,” Anna said.
    At the ferry terminal she gave me a hug and a fatherly kiss on the cheek and I manfully suppressed the memory of her perky breasts. There was a crowd of people already boarding the next boat.
    “Make sure you get in touch with Alice if you get to New York,” I said. “She’s counting on that.”
    “Oh, I will. She gave me all her contact information. You’ve both been wonderful. I can’t wait to see you again.”
    With that, she was off up the ramp, and, with a final wave, disappeared into the ferry cabin.
    I drove back along the docks. Vole was still working on his boat. I saw the name on the side: She Got the House . I smiled. Vole probably had good reason to be a pain in the ass. Many of the other boat slips were empty. I got out and approached him. He looked up. It took him a moment to place me.
    “Can I help you, chum?”
    “Maybe,” I said. “No charter today?”
    “Guys canceled. Last minute.”
    “That’s too bad.”
    “It happens. Goes with the territory.”
    I didn’t like him, but I felt sorry he lost the income. It was a hit-and-miss occupation. Probably why he moonlighted doing security work.
    “Good fishing this time of year?”
    “Pretty good. Another week will be better. But I can catch fish any time of the year.”
    “What’s running now?
    “Bluefish are starting to show up. Big ones. Spanish mackerel, dolphin, some Kings, red drums, tuna, false albacore, tarpon.”
    “Anything big?”
    “Sure. Wahoo, white marlin. And sharks, spinners and black tips, mostly.”
    Vole was in his element. He obviously enjoyed talking about fishing. Whatever else he was, Vole was proud of his ability on the water. I made a snap decision. Bald Head Island was located where the mouth of the Cape Fear River meets the Atlantic Ocean. According to the guidebooks I’d been reading, the sandbars nearby, called the Frying Pan Shoals, was famous for their fishing. I’d thought about trying my luck. Why not with Vole? He might be a hard-ass, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a good fisherman.
    “Can you go out this afternoon?”
    “With you?”
    He looked surprised.
    “Yes. You have a half-day rate?”
    He did. It wasn’t that bad. I was in a splurging mood. Besides, a day on the ocean with salt spray in my