Free Murder at the Miramar (Augusta Burnette Series) by Dane McCaslin Page B

the gulls took flight, wheeling above us and screeching their displeasure. I didn’t blame them: I hate it when someone interferes in my life, too.
    I should have known at once that something was amiss by Ellie’s stance. She was completely still, head down and focused on the blanket. As I watched, she bent her knees, leaning in closer for a better look. It’s a good thing I’d moved up behind her – I caught her as she slumped sideways onto the sand, choking and crying at the same time.
    We’d found Emmy.
    I think I was the one who alerted the resort’s security, stumbling into the main lobby and scaring the few guests who’d congregated in front of the small fire burning in the stone fireplace. Someone guided me to a chair and got me a glass of water, murmuring soothing words as they patted my shoulders and waited for help to arrive. I had no idea where Ellie was; for all I knew, she was still on the beach, keeping a macabre vigil over Emmy’s battered body.
    I really shouldn’t have been in the least surprised to see the familiar figures of Detectives Baird and Fischer as they strode up the resort’s front walkway and into the lobby. I was beginning to feel like the resort albatross, courting disaster and bringing bad luck wherever I went. Logically, I knew none of this was my fault, but really! What was a girl to think with this many bodies piling up in such a short amount of time?
    I’d sufficiently recovered enough by this time to look around for Ellie, craning my neck to see if she had made it back to the resort. I finally spotted her sitting near the entrance to the main corridor, being comforted by Maria and another gal from the kitchen staff. Bad news sure grew wings at the Miramar, I was discovering.
    ‘So, Ms Burnette,’ a familiar voice intoned. I looked up to see Detective Fischer bearing down on me, notebook in one hand and pen in the other. I felt a stab of disappointment, expecting Detective Baird to be the one who spoke with me. Oh, well: I didn’t own the man. I sure wanted to, though.
    I met the detective’s eyes, a flat blue compared to the dazzling pair of his partner. I was tired, and I wanted to get the questioning over and done with. I took a calming breath in, willing myself to focus.
    ‘Yes, Detective?’ I answered. I wasn’t going to offer anything this time around; he’d have to pull it out of me piecemeal.
    ‘I just need a few basics,’ he began. I managed to keep myself from rolling my eyes; wasn’t that what they all said, right before a big interrogation?
    ‘When did you last see Esmeralda Ruiz?’ He had to check his notes for the name, which surprised me. I figured that by now, he and Detective Baird knew everyone and everything connected to the ill-fated Miramar.
    ‘I saw her this morning, about 6-ish, in the kitchen,’ I offered, watching him scribble the information into his notebook.
    He looked up at me. ‘OK. Did you see her last night?’
    ‘Well, yes, right before you let us go when …’ My voice trailed off. I really didn’t want to talk to him about Miguel. I could still see his body as it jerked and sparked on the bandstand, and it was not a good memory at all.
    He nodded. I guess that jived with his notes.
    ‘Right, that’s it for now, Ms Burnette. Don’t go anywhere; we may need to ask you a few more questions, OK?’ With that, he strode off in the direction of his partner, who was still leaning over Ellie and talking to her.
    As if I had anywhere to go, I thought grimly. I was beginning to rethink this whole job-at-a-resort gig, though. Somehow, it hadn’t turned out like I thought it would.
    The few guests who’d remained in the lobby started drifting off to various destinations, huddling together and looking warily around as though they expected to see a mad killer running loose. I shuddered. For all I knew, there was a killer somewhere nearby. I just prayed that I stayed out of his – or her – crosshairs.
    I waited where I was for a