Free Ron Base - Sanibel Sunset Detective 01 - The Sanibel Sunset Detective by Ron Base

around.”
    “Maybe I’ll take a closer look,” Tree said, getting out of the car. The Jack Russell tugged anxiously on his leash. “That three hundred thousand sounds like a pretty good price.”
    “You won’t do better, not in this neighborhood. I keep a close eye on real estate prices around here. Sort of a hobby of mine. You can go over to Cape Coral and do better, but then you’re sitting in a No Man’s Land of unoccupied houses. Who knows when it’s going to come back.”
    “Thanks,” Tree said. “I appreciate your help.”
    “Come on, Mackenzie.” The woman yanked at the dog. In response Mackenzie yapped loudly, and pulled even harder on his leash. “Dogs,” the woman said. As though that explained everything.
    Tree stood at the curb cursing himself. The great detective had spent hours watching an empty house.
    He found an opening in a hedge and went through into a rectangular backyard with a swimming pool wrapped in a green sun dome screen to keep out insects.
    A glass-topped table and four wrought iron chairs were on the terrace adjacent to the pool. The remnants of a candle dripped over a glass holder. A wrinkled People magazine on a chaise lounge lay open at “Lindsay Lohan’s Beauty Secrets.” Tree peered through sliding glass doors into a kitchen’s shadowy dimness. He tried the latch. To his surprise, the door slid open.
    Immediately, he was assailed by a sickly sweet scent. He stepped inside. The air was stifling. A granite countertop divided the kitchen from a family room. A fifty-two-inch Sony flat screen occupied a corner of the family room. There was no other furniture.
    He made his way around the counter and saw something in the sink. He fished his glasses out of his breast pocket in order to get a clearer view of what he was looking at in the uncertain light. Sure enough, it was a human head. Tendrils of blond hair drifted against the backsplash.
    Retreating along a short corridor, he entered a combination dining room and living room. A setting for six, with attractive pewter charger plates, was laid out on a mahogany table. A naked woman occupied a chair at the head of the table. It was difficult to see how she was going to eat since her head lay in the kitchen sink.

11
    Y ou look pretty shaken up,” Cee Jay Boone said. “Not me,” Tree said. “I come across headless corpses two or three times a week.”
    “What? You’ve never seen a dead body before?” Detective Mel Scott’s gravel voice dripped with disdain.
    “My Uncle Morris when I was eight,” Tree said. “He still had his head.”
    “A detective who can’t look at dead people,” Mel said. “Jeez. What will they think of next.”
    “Let me get this straight,” said Cee Jay Boone. “You just happened to be driving past a house on Barrington Court and decided to have a look.”
    “Like I told you, detective,” Tree said. “I heard there was a bank short sale. My wife and I have been thinking of moving. I drove over here to take a look at the house, but there was no sign out front, so I thought I was mistaken. This woman came along with her dog and confirmed that the house was in fact up for sale.”
    “Okay.”
    “I walked around to get a closer look, found the back door open and decided to take a peek inside.”
    “And you just happened to find a head in the sink.”
    “Well, I wouldn’t say ‘just happened,’ but there was a head in the sink.”
    They sat on the terrace while a police forensic team in white jump suits filed in and out of the house. A couple of firemen beside the pool sucked on cigarettes. A knot of paramedics lingered beside an ambulance in the drive. He could hear the squawk of police radios from the squad cars lined along the street. Uniformed officers were everywhere. Tree was amazed how quietly everyone worked. The cops didn’t make jokes like their television counterparts.
    “We’re working with the Fort Myers police, Tree, that’s why we are here today,” Cee Jay said.