Free Death With An Ocean View (A Kate Kennedy Mystery Book 1) by Noreen Wald

something on the sidewalk.
    Ballou tugged on his leash, seeming to urge Kate to move along and let Stanley stew.
    All traces of June Cleaver thrown to the wind, Kate asked again, “The police won’t find anything, right?”
    Stanley kept his eyes to the ground. “Well, there are some favorite sites on my computer that might—er—put me in a bad light. And you know, there are ways for the police to tell how often a person visits a website.”
    Porn? Kiddie porn? Had Charlie sent her that message? Or had she thought of it herself? Either way, Kate sensed something sordid, and wished that Ballou would take a bite out of Stanley’s skinny ankle.
    They approached Ocean Vista’s flower-lined driveway in uncomfortable silence. A red Beetle, illegally parked, blocked the right side of the driveway.
    Nancy Cooper bounded out of the condo.
    Kate called out to her. “I left a message on your office answering machine. I’m going to stop by this afternoon around three.”
    Stanley wheezed. “I’m going around back. See you ladies later.”
    Nancy, looking very smart but appearing flustered, said, “I doubt I’ll have any time today, Mrs. Kennedy.”
    “It’s about David Fry and Sea Breeze. You’ll want to hear this.”
    Nancy’s expression changed. Not warm, but certainly more receptive. “I’m on deadline today, but I guess I can spare you a few minutes. I’m meeting with a source at two, but I should be back in the office by three.”
    Nancy Cooper brushed past Kate, jumped into the red Beetle, and drove off.
    God Almighty, Kate thought. That woman believes she’s Bob Woodward.

      
    In the lobby, Marlene was having a tête-à-tête with Mary Frances, whispering like teenagers in front of Aphrodite’s statue. Both women wore black outfits and dazed expressions.
    Kate knew that Marlene had gone to the reading of Stella’s will this morning. Did Mary Frances’s black jumpsuit indicate that she’d been there too?
    Ballou, delighted to see Marlene, led a more than intrigued Kate over to her, just as a slim gray-haired man came out of the elevator and approached them from the other side.
    “Kate.” Marlene, looking from the man to Kate, spoke with impish delight. “I’d like you to meet Stella’s husband, Joe Sajak. Turns out he isn’t dead after all. We’re just heading into the dining room for lunch. Why don’t you take Ballou upstairs and then join us?” She bent to allow Ballou to lick her hand.

Eleven

      
    Accompanied by a blast of thunder and sheet lightning that flashed over the sea, the rains came. As Kate entered Ocean Vista’s dining room, drops the size of lollipops sloshed its windows. Outside on the beach, sunbathers and swimmers frantically closed umbrellas, swooped up towels and totes, and scurried to shelter. After six months, she remained amazed by the capricious South Florida weather. Blue sides and sunshine could morph into dark clouds and teeming rain in a matter of minutes.
    Marlene, Mary Frances, and Joe sat at a window table, their heads turned toward the beach, watching the storm, a definite attention grabber. The waves were rising high, then crashing against the shore, and the surfers, who always showed up so quickly that they appeared to be on call, were riding their crests.
    Kate, just inside the door, waited and watched.
    Jolted by the appearance of a supposedly long dead husband, just in time for his wife’s funeral—and how Agatha Christie was that?—Kate had rapidly reviewed her theories about Stella’s murder while riding up and down in the elevator. Throwing Joe Sajak into the mix, Kate came up with more questions than answers. The two most nagging: When had he arrived in South Florida? And did this mystery man have a motive?
    Charlie had believed that you can tell as much about a suspect by his body language as you can by his responses to an interrogation, so she observed the cozy trio.
    There was an empty chair between Marlene and Mary Frances, who had book-ended