Black Swan (A Sam Acquillo Hamptons Mystery)

by Chris Knopf

  "At least you're retaining ten percent for yourself," said Burton. "What are your plans for that?"

  "For some reason, I've been thinking about sailboats," I said.

  The evening was finally allowed to slip all the way into darkness, but for the moon painting the jittery bay waves in its meager light. And with the cool breeze swinging toward the northwest, where it would persist until spring, and surrounded by one dog and three people for whom my heart literally ached with love, I let go of all that wanton anger and remorse, and sailed unfettered toward the end of days.