Free Cozy Mystery: Life's a Beach by S. Y. Robins Page B

had a feeling it was something I didn’t want to find anyway.
    Walking back outside I was glad Amber and Tina hadn’t shown up yet. Taking out my phone I called the property manager, asking him to meet me at the house. He was there in ten minutes, a well-groomed fellow in a pastel shirt and khaki shorts with a million dollar grin on his face.
    “Let’s see if we can take care of this and get you settled in. I’m going to refund tonight’s fee, just as an apology Melanie. You’ve been staying with us for a long time, we’d hate to lose you as a customer!” He walked away and I heard him talking with the cleaning agency on his phone as he walked into the house.
    I heard a shout of disgust as he went through the front door. Apparently he hadn’t understood just how bad it was. I was still trying to get the smell out of my nose. It lingered though, making my tummy wobble each time I inhaled.
    Another shout a few minutes later, followed by the sounds of pounding feet let me know the property manager had found the source. The look of terror on his face as he flew out of the front door let me know that stopping my inspection when I had was a smart move.
    “Oh my God. Call the police.” He managed to get the words out before he fainted dead away.
    I looked down at the man in astonishment. Behind that emotion was fear of what was upstairs, and a total blanking of what was happening. I watched my hands pull the man up from the hot pavement of the driveway and I heard my own voice as I asked for the police. I gave the man some water I had in the car and sat on the steps with him, the front door closed, in a state of numbness. He didn’t have to tell me, I knew there was a dead person upstairs. What else could cause such a reaction?
    Hours later, after the property manager and I were both questioned and released, I listened to his call to the cleaning agency. Tina and Amber were sitting beside of us on the porch as the body of a brutally murdered woman was carried out on a stretcher. I tried to focus on his conversation rather than the poor woman being wheeled away in a body bag. I’d heard details about what had happened to her from police as they walked in and out of the house but I wanted to forget those words.
    “Ah, good evening, Mrs. Landry, how are you? Oh, that’s good to hear. Is the Dalton Lane house ready? Oh that’s excellent, great. Look, I won’t be needing your services anymore Mrs. Landry, your cleaners seem to have left a body in the Ballantine Lane house and, well, that’s just unacceptable.”
    I felt a bubble of hysterical laughter trying to force its way up out of my throat but I tamped down on it.
    “Oh, I know your cleaners didn’t leave a body because I know they never cleaned it. The house was vacated two weeks ago and it’s full of trash and a murdered lady. Now I have clients that need somewhere to sleep and a murder to deal with. I hope you provide a better service to your other clients but you won’t be getting any more business from me.”
    I swear if his thumb tapping on the screen could have been his hand putting the phone down, that small press to end the call would have been a slamming receiver that made the body of the telephone ring. Sometimes I really did miss the good old days of the old kind of telephone. I think the property manager missed it just now as well.
    “Right, ladies, if you haven’t totally given up on us now, we have another house for you. It’s usually more expensive but in this situation, well, we aren’t going to worry over pennies. If you can follow me I’ll take you there.” He waited for our acknowledgment then we all got into our cars and followed him to a far ritzier house, with lots of glass for walls and a private pool, despite being only a few yards from the beach.
    The house was beautiful and we were all too exhausted at that point to worry over anything besides ordering some food and breaking out a bottle of wine Amber had brought. We settled