Free Killer Colada: a Danger Cove Cocktail Mystery by Sibel Hodge, Elizabeth Ashby Page A

and an address book. I flicked through the address book, but nothing was marked on any of the pages. I put it back and called out to them. "I found a diary here." It was small and cheap and didn't look well used.
    Ian and Vernon stood beside me as I went through every page. No entries. Nothing to say she'd arranged to meet Tim on that fateful day.
    "There's a calendar." Vernon pointed to a hook on the wall next to the ancient fridge and removed it, placing it on the counter. It was long and narrow, with a picture of a tropical beach at the top of the page. There were several things written on it.
    Ian ran his finger down the page. "Two weeks ago she had an appointment with a Dr. Trower." He scrunched his face up, thinking. "Trower. That sounds familiar, but I can't place it. Is he a GP here?"
    "No," Vernon said. "I don't think he's local to Danger Cove. I've never heard of him."
    "Tania Fuller—2:00 p.m." Ian tapped another entry a couple of days before Pandora's death. "Do you know her?"
    I nodded. "She works in Veggie Tables." I pointed to some more entries. "Look, there she is, once a week. She obviously had a regular appointment with Pandora for Reiki treatment."
    He pointed to the only entry listed for the day Pandora was killed. "Yours and Ruby's names are here but nothing listed for Tim."
    "Yes, Ruby phoned her in the morning, and she said we could come over the same day."
    Ian flicked back a month. Tania's name regularly appeared, along with some other names.
    "Looks like they're all clients too." I pointed to other names with a single note next to them about which kind of treatment they were booked for.
    "And another appointment with Dr. Trower." Ian laid the diary on the counter. He slumped down at one of the chairs. "Was Mother ill?"
    "I don't know," I said. "I never met her before that day, but Ruby didn't mention anything like that, so she obviously hadn't said anything to her if she was."
    Ian's eyes glistened again. "I never got to say good-bye to her. I should've tried harder to get our relationship on track." He flopped his head into his hands. "And now it's too late."
    I reached out and gently squeezed his shoulder. My heart welled up inside.
    "Let's look upstairs," Vernon suggested.
    "I don't want to go into Jenna's room," Ian said. "Mother always left it exactly how it was when Jenna died, and I don't think I can face that as well. I'll search my old room."
    Vernon took Pandora's room and the bathroom. When I stepped into Jenna's, it was like stepping back into the mid-90s. The place was a shrine to Jenna's memory. There was an empty, hollow feel in the room, and it smelled musty. A single wrought iron bed sat underneath the dormer window, a clean white duvet on top. The headboard had ornamental poles at either end, and looped around one were various beaded bracelets in different colors. A selection of reproduction prints hung on the walls. I didn't know much about the classic painters, but I recognized an Andy Warhol and a Picasso. There were also several more sketches in frames up there. I inspected them closer and saw Jenna's now familiar signature in the bottom corner. There was a large stereo on the edge of a white dressing table. I flicked through a pile of CDs stacked at the side of it. Simply Red, Celine Dion, Michael Jackson, Mariah Carey. I could picture Jenna propped up on her bed all those years ago, listening to music, sketching away, her long hair fanning across the pillow.
    There was a bright-blue jewelry box on top of the table. I opened it and found tangles of silver and beads: an amethyst crystal bracelet, one made of hematite, a big lump of rose quartz, a silver bracelet with charms of feathers attached, dangly earrings.
    Next, I tackled the drawers in the dressing table, but there was nothing much there except more costume jewelry, hair products, makeup, all crusty and congealed. I worked my way through the wardrobe, running a hand along the clothes—dresses, jeans, T-shirts that had