G'Day to Die: A Passport to Peril Mystery - By Maddy Hunter Page 0,67

Gates loom large as the next travel destination.”

“Did you know she was only fifty-seven?”

“Who told you that?”

“Henry. It was on her medical form.”

He muttered an epithet that expressed his doubt in one explosive syllable. “Show me her birth certificate with the gold seal of authenticity. That’s the only way you’ll ever convince me.”

“I’m not sure she had an authentic birth certificate. I think a lot of her personal records were lost when she emigrated. Heath told me she was a war orphan. I guess war affects even the people who aren’t involved in the fighting.”

“If they ever find her real birth certificate, they’ll discover she was ancient. You want my theory? She died from massive deterioration of all her major organs.”

If he was the guilty party who’d dispensed the drug overdose, he had to be hoping that’s what the medical examiner found. Diseased organs probably couldn’t bear the same level of scrutiny as healthy ones, which could very well let him off the hook.

I invited more guests to sign my card while we waited. Conrad had a microscopic signature, as if he were trying to keep his name a secret, while Ellie’s was the size of John Hancock’s. I’m sure it said something about their personalities, but not being a handwriting expert, I didn’t have a clue what. Lola dotted the “i” in Silverthorn with an enormous heart, and Jake shoved the card back at me and suggested I buzz off. “He was aiming to shag my wife! Git the bloody hill away from me.”

Nana and Tilly strolled up to me, all smiles. “If you gotta visit the potty, dear, use the one in the souvenir shop. The Aussies have a real gift for designin’ pretty potties.” She lowered her voice. “They could give the Italians a few pointers.”

I grabbed their arms and pulled them aside. “I didn’t want to say anything on the bus, but I have news about Nora. Henry received a call from Heath. There’s evidence she may have died from a drug overdose.”

Nana gasped in shock. “She was one a them addicts? I’ll be. Just like on that egg commercial on the TV.”

“What egg commercial?” asked Tilly.

“The one what shows a fella talkin’ about your brain then fryin’ up a couple a eggs. If you hit the mute button, you can’t tell if he’s advertisin’ breakfast at Perkins or nonstick cookin’ spray.” She regarded me seriously. “Was it heroin or coke?”

“Neither! She wasn’t a drug addict. She didn’t even do aspirin.”

“So what did she overdose on if not recreational or hard drugs?” asked Tilly.

“They don’t know yet, but—too much of anything can kill you, right?”

Tilly nodded. “Too much water. Too much prescription medication. Too many over-the-counter painkillers and herbal remedies.”

“Too much sex,” said Nana.

I gave her the evil eye. “I wouldn’t know. Anyway, everything is going to be coming to a head very shortly, so if you see anything weird happening, keep your distance. Pass the word along to the rest of the gang, okay?”

“How am I s’posed to know if it’s weirdl?” asked Nana.

“I’ll help,” Tilly assured as she urged Nana forward. “Recognizing deviant human behavior has been my stock in trade for a half century.”

When the crowd thinned I descended the stairs, awestruck by the beach’s savage beauty, charmed by the clusters of furry creatures who lazed belly-up in the sun, a little annoyed by the sand that was blasting me in the face. If Iowa had a shoreline that faced Antarctica, I guess I might have realized that hurricane winds plus beach sand equals microderm abrasion. But the good news was, it was free of charge!

While the ranger guided the group down the beach, I plopped onto the sand, kicked off my sandals, assumed the lotus position, and angled my face into the wind.

“What are you doing, bella?” Amusement filled Etienne’s voice as he sat down behind me, wishboning his arms and legs around my body.

“Exfoliating.”

“And the purpose of that is?”

“To make my skin soft and supple.”

He smoothed his hands down my bare arms. “It’s working.”

“Where did you leave your shadow?” My voice was breathy as he nuzzled my ear.

“He’s browsing in the gift shop. I think Lazarus is a closet shopaholic. You know what that means, don’t you?”

“He has an American Express card with no credit limit?”

“He travels heavy. No plane will ever be able to transport the two of you at the same time, which, of course, bodes well for me.”

“Try to be nice.”

“I’d rather try something else.” He drew my

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