One more excerpt nearing the end of my first book in this series.
Jan 3, 1995, Newspaper clipping: Garrett Ryan Beaumont III was found dead in the East River on January 2, 1995. His body was discovered by a trash tug early that morning. A note found in a wine bottle was recovered on the shore later that day.
The paper didn’t mention that the wine was a 1982 Latour or that Garrett went by his middle name, dropping the reference to his place as the third in a line of thieves and murderous aristocrats. Few people knew or suspected anything out of the ordinary about Ryan—he was, at the simplest, a lover of life and at his most complex, a man tormented by his familial past most of which had died tragically by declared accidents or, by what some called, supernatural circumstances. He seemed to hold no thoughts of his family except his mother. He often spoke of his last dance with her at his cousin’s wedding at the Essex.
In the few years since Sara and Ryan became friends, she had seen his face change, usually during moments of surprise. Ryan was not a strong-willed man and she would see his face distort into something like a mouse—pink ears, dark eyes, elongated snout. He would suddenly transform from party-man to a furry-faced man-thing vibrating with fear. Sara didn’t know if others could see the change in him—no one seemed to notice.
Garrett Ryan lived in constant fear. He hid in bottles looking out over exotic playgrounds, surrounding himself with young girls in few clothes and men with purpose and money and ego. At least he had inherited a fortune—or where would he be? He held that information as close a secret as his lineage.