Excerpt from: The Liar’s Gallery: A Gus LeGarde Mystery by Aaron Paul Lazar
His eyes opened and he stared at the sky. I pressed the cloth against the cut again. The bleeding had almost stopped. “Sir? Are you okay? Can you hear me?”
His dark eyes flitted toward the plane. When he spoke, his voice resonated in a clipped British accent. “Of course I can bloody well hear you, Gus. You needn’t shout.”
Startled, I studied him closer. The man was blessed with a Michelangelo face reminiscent of the statue of David, but with more rounded features, including a strong nose and full lips. His black skin shone with vigorous health. A small silver earring pierced his right ear. On his left hand he wore an onyx and silver band. The ring sparked some distant memory, but I still couldn’t summon his identity. He turned his eyes to mine, forced a weak smile, and took my hand. In that instant, recognition flooded through me. Byron. Byron Cunningham. “Byron.” I smiled. “You’ve changed a bit over the years. I didn’t recognize you without your granny glasses and bellbottoms.” He squeezed my hand and pushed himself onto his elbows. “I have changed a mite, I guess…
I called to tell you I accepted a post at the Eastman School of Music in Rochester… I’m chair of the voice department. Just began last month…”
“Eastman, huh? What a Plum job.”
“Quite. Many consider Eastman to be the best music school in the world, you know.” Pride flitted across his face.
I couldn’t resist. I gave him a bear hug. …you’ve damned lucky you didn’t die in the crash.”
“Lucky? I’d say it was some sort of divine providence. If you hadn’t been riding in this area…if you hadn’t dragged me out…I’d be charcoal, singing with the angels.”
Viv Drewa - The Owl Lady 