Sacrifice of Buntings Read Online Free

small neighborhoods of year-round homes. The lush grass and foliage of the housing development morphed into the greens of the golf course, and then she could see the dunes. White hedgerows sprigged with grasses and littered in driftwood gave way to a wide swath of beach. Sunshine shimmered on the water, and the smell of salt and magnolias tinged the air.
    The convention center was perched on the edge of the dunes. Situated on the south side of the island, the back deck of the two-story, ranch-style building commanded a spectacular view of the Atlantic Ocean, making the center a choice location for most major island events. Proms, conferences, weddings, even funerals, were commonplace. This week, the building was divided in half: one wing welcomed the Hyde Island Birding and Nature Festival; the other, the Lucy Bell Cosmetic Convention.
    Rachel turned into the driveway, braked the rental car, and coasted through the parking lot. Lucy Bell Cosmetic banners hung on both sides of the main entrance, and a gaggle of well-heeled women in stockings and suits clustered in front of the two sets of large double doors.
    “Are you sure we’re in the right place?” Rachel asked, tugging at the hem of her T-shirt. “If so, I’d say we’re a tad underdressed.”
    “This is right,” Lark insisted. “Our entrance is over there.” She pointed toward the east side of the building and a smaller set of doors covered with a green awning. Near the curb stood a large clapboard sign mounted with the official Hyde Island Birding and Nature Festival poster.
    “We’re early,” Dorothy said. “That’s why there aren’t more birders around.”
    Rachel checked her watch. Four o’clock. Registration didn’t open until five.
    “We could take a walk on the beach,” she suggested.
    “Or maybe they’ll let us register early,” Cecilia said. “That would save us from having to stand in line.”
    Lark nodded. “It’s worth a try. The last I heard, twelve hundred people had preregistered for the festival, and they’re expecting another thousand to walk through the doors.”
    This was Rachel’s first birding extravaganza, but she found those numbers hard to believe. “Twenty-two hundred attendees? That’s a heck of a lot of birdwatchers.”
    “Park there,” Cecilia and Dorothy said.
    At the others’ urging, Rachel squeezed the car between two pale blue Cadillac convertibles and the four of them piled out. They made it less than ten yards across the parking lot before being engulfed by a wave of Lucy Bell Cosmetic conventioneers.
    “Hello,” chirped a perky brunette in a pink suit. In spite of the heat waves rising up from the pavement, she looked cool and fresh.
    “How are you ladies doing today?” asked a blonde with artfully applied makeup and a Doris Day haircut, who circled in behind.
    “Fine,” Rachel answered, patting the neckline of her cotton T-shirt and straightening the hems of her shorts. It was amazing how a well-dressed woman could make another woman self-conscious. Avoid eye contact, she thought, hoping the others picked up her ESP.
    The brunette stepped into her path. “Are you all part of the birding thing?”
    “Oh my,” Cecilia said, fingering her hair. “Could you tell?”
    The brunette and Rachel exchanged glances.
    “We were just over there,” the brunette said. “And we were thinking that after a day out in the field you all could probably use a facial or a good foot massage.”
    “Lucy Bell has a special cinnamon foot cream,” the blonde piped up. “It’s delicious.”
    “It’s edible?” Rachel asked. She glanced at Lark. Tell me this isn’t real .
    “In fact,” the blonde chirped, “we’ve arranged it with the conference coordinator to let us set up a chair in the vending area starting tomorrow. Isn’t that sweet?”
    The brunette shoved a piece of paper into Rachel’s hand. “Here’s a discount coupon.” She passed some out to the others, then looked them all up and down. “We