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a brief glimpse of lightning, He was pulling back onto the blacktop just as the first drops of rain splattered against his dusty windshield. |
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From Morgan's place he headed over to the Coast Road, behind the new condos being built by an investment group from Dallas and around the parking lot of the new Sheraton. Official business, for the moment, had been taken care of. He had help, if he needed it, with the Gull House, and that left Linda. Linda was new to South Padre, and Ernestine, if she did slam into the little resort island community, would be her first official tropical storm. And if you were about to meet your first hurricane face to face, it was no time to be alone. |
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Linda Cavitt had hit town two months ago, fresh from Chicago and, from what everyone said, a nasty, highly publicized divorce. She was the new banquet manager at the Sheraton, the summer season had just ended, and she had taken some much needed time off to get her personal life in order. |
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Bartholomew had met Linda at Red Gleason's sixtieth birthday party at the Gull House. Gladys Ann had introduced them, and nature had taken its course. They hit it off immediately. Bartholomew Miller, the man with the wife who had disappeared, and Linda Elaine Cavitt, the woman still reeling from a |
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