The Lime and the Dead: A Key West Culinary Cozy - Book 3 (7 page)

**

Marilyn
screamed aloud when she saw her daughter torn from the ledge by the reality
star, still holding hands as they fell. She hid her face in her hands, unable
to watch any longer.

“It’s
okay,” Kelcie’s shaking voice reached her ears. “They fell right into the net
that the fire department set up,” she informed her boss, guiding her to a chair
just as her legs gave out. “Look, they’re standing by the ambulance, they’re
okay,” she soothed, patting Marilyn’s back as she sobbed with relief.

Marilyn
forced herself to look at the screen, relieved to see her brave daughter
looking none the worse for the wear, being embraced by Sabra Remington, while
Bernard Cortland put handcuffs on Amber and led her to a waiting ambulance. She
would be transported to a local hospital for a psychiatric evaluation, and from
there, would be taken into police custody. Tucker had been located trying to
leave the country in the cargo hold of a cruise ship, and was being held
without bond.

**

“How
did you know that it was Amber and not me,” Tiara asked Detective Bernard
Cortland, after the ambulance carrying Amber to the hospital had pulled away.

“Because
the hairs found on the body and at the scene were bleached blonde, not natural
blonde, and because Amber wears a size six shoe that matches the prints we
found. Your size nine made it pretty obvious. I also looked at your hands.
Bella was strangled, which wouldn’t be impossible for someone with small hands
like yours, but would present a bit of a challenge, and there were no
indications of trauma on yours. When we searched the limo, we found the rope
that had been used to strangle her, and when we checked Tucker’s hands, he had
rope burns. There’s other forensic evidence too, but that’ll come out at the
trial. Suffice to say, you and your mother are off the hook for this one,” he
said, having the grace to look contrite.

“She’s
still going to be mad at you, you know,” Tiara smiled.

“I’m
aware,” the detective sighed.

Marilyn
went out to water the ferns on her front porch, and Fluffy, Tiara’s
newly-adopted best friend, followed closely, observing her every move, always
ready to offer and receive affection. She moved some fronds aside to make room
so that the spout of her watering can could reach the soil in the pot, and was
startled to see Tim Eckels face directly behind the fern. She was tempted to dump
the entire contents of her vessel on the annoying man’s head, but still had
doubts as to his sanity, so she refrained, her sense of self-preservation far
more keen than her desire for revenge.

“So,
they caught the murderer,” he said quietly.

“So
it would seem,” Marilyn answered, moving to another fern.

“You
thought that I did it,” Tim moved around the side of the porch to stand at the
bottom of the steps.

“What’s
your point, Mr. Eckels?” she stood, hands on hips, ready to sling her watering
can and run into the house if necessary. Fluffy twined happily unaware around
her ankles.

“I’m
different,” he began awkwardly. “People think things about me because…I’m
different, but being different isn’t a crime. You should know that,” he
squinted at her from behind his glasses. “And I really do make great pies…my
grandma taught me,” he finished sadly, then turned and shuffled back to his
cottage.

Marilyn
refused to feel guilty about having suspected the odd little man. He had
behaved in a manner that was unlike anything she’d ever encountered, making her
suspicion entirely understandable. Oh how she wished that Madge had never
moved, but at least she had the comfort of knowing that her neighbor might be a
seriously odd duck, but he wasn’t a killer, at least not provably anyway. She
stared after him until he closed the thick mahogany door of the cottage behind
him, then went back to her watering.

“I
guess I owe you an apology,” a soft, nasally voice said from behind her as she
watered the petunias that were potted on either side of the door.

Sabra
Remington had taken Tim’s place at the bottom of the steps and stood holding a
bottle of wine and a bouquet of flowers. She set both on the top step, not
wanting to presume that she’d be invited up.

“I’d
say that was entirely appropriate under the circumstances,” Marilyn agreed,
setting down her watering can and folding her arms. Fluffy slunk over to the
steps, carefully examining the wine and flowers.

“I’m
really sorry for the way that everything turned out,” the producer’s chagrin
was readily apparent. “I made arrangements with Tiara this morning and brought
my whole crew and as many people as I could find out on the street into your
shop this morning so that we could film everyone enjoying your pies. That
segment will be included in the last episode, along with endorsements of your
business from some very high profile people. I figured it was the least I could
do,” she bit her lip.

Marilyn
nodded. “Well, thank you, I appreciate that.”

“You
have a very talented daughter, you know,” Sabra said honestly. “I told her if
she ever wanted to give reality TV another try, she just had to look me up.”

“How
did she respond to that?” the concerned mother raised an eyebrow.

“She
laughed,” the producer smiled.

“That’s
my girl.”

Tim
Eckels had stopped turning up on Marilyn’s porch unannounced, and had taken to
edging her lawn whenever he did his, slowly changing her perception of him from
dangerous to merely eccentric, so when she had the urge to go for a late night
walk, she felt no reservations, and headed out.

The
beach was about four blocks away from her cozy cottage, and it was a beautiful
moonlit night, so she set out for sand and surf, gulping in deep breaths of the
cool, salty air. Kicking of her shoes the moment that she made it to the beach,
Marilyn walked along counting her blessings. She had an amazing daughter, who,
when push came to shove, not only showed tremendous courage and ability, but
who also seemed to have a maturity that caused her to make the right decisions
most of the time. She also had a thriving business that had been booming as a
result of the endorsements by reality TV stars and crew, and had finally found
an employee whom she could trust. Life was good – perhaps the only thing that
might make it a tad better would be to have a handsome man with whom to spend
some time.

“What’s
a lovely lady like you doing out alone on a beautiful night like this?” she
heard the unmistakably familiar voice of Detective Bernard Cortland call out
from behind.

“What’s
it to you?” she challenged, still angry at the detective for having suspected
her and Tiara of having committed a heinous crime. “Did someone rob a bank or
something? I assure you I’m not out here looking for my escape boat,” she
drawled sarcastically.

“Okay,
okay, I suppose I deserved that,” he held his hands up apologetically. He had
jogged over to where she stood, arms by her side, flip-flops dangling from her
fingers. She’d never seen him in casual clothing before, and had to admit that
the sight of the handsome detective barefoot, tanned and toned, in board shorts
and a
Senor Toad
t-shirt, was a sight to behold. “Mind if I join you?”
he asked, seeming almost shy.

“It’s
a free country,” Marilyn shrugged, secretly pleased when he fell in step beside
her. “You look almost normal in street clothes,” she observed with a
mischievous grin.

“Does
that mean that I don’t look normal otherwise?” he chuckled.

“Well,
I just always assumed that you dressed well to intimidate criminals,” she
teased.

“Does
it work?” he shot back. When Marilyn’s mouth dropped open in astonishment, a
grin broke across his face like the dawn. “Ha! Gotcha,” he laughed.

“Oh
just you wait,” she warned, smiling at his antics. She’d never seen this side
of the typically taciturn detective before, and she found it wildly appealing.

“Are
you threatening an officer of the law, ma’am?” he asked gravely, trying hard
not to smile.

“Why,
are you going to handcuff me?” she retorted.

“Nah,
I’m not into the rough stuff,” he responded without thinking. “Oh geez, I
totally didn’t mean that the way that it sounded…” he floundered, clearly
embarrassed.

“Hmm…even
in the moonlight, that’s a lovely shade of red,” Marilyn mused, enjoying his
discomfort tremendously.

“You
do like having the upper hand, don’t you?” he asserted with barely disguised
admiration.

She
shrugged and shook her head. “No, honestly, I’m tired of it,” she admitted. “I
face challenges every day, and I actually think that it would be quite nice if
I could just relax for a while and not always be the one who has to take care
of every situation.” She’d had similar thoughts many times in the past, but had
never told anyone until now.

“Ever
consider the possibility that some situations can take care of themselves and
that others can simply be let go?” he challenged.

“Well
now, what fun would that be?” she laughed at herself. “I may be tired of it,
but I seem to thrive on it.”

“Some
people find it helpful to share the load. Food for thought,” he said, looking
at her strangely.

“Food
for thought,” she echoed, returning his look.

“Well,
this is my turn-off,” he said gesturing to the boardwalk that disappeared up
the beach, away from the water.

“Thanks
for keeping me company,” Marilyn smiled, drinking in the sight of him one last
time.

“The
pleasure was all mine,” he grinned and trotted toward the boardwalk.

Marilyn
took in the view and had to disagree. “No,” she said under her breath. “The
pleasure was definitely mine.”

Smiling
a goofy smile that refused to go away, she turned for home, where her amazing
daughter would be waiting for the pizza guy and selecting a romantic comedy to
watch, her new best friend curled up and purring in her lap.

Yep,
life was good, and seemed to be getting better by the day. Marilyn looked up at
the moon, and, for the moment at least, all was well with her world.

A letter from the Author

To each and every one of my Amazing readers:
I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing
it.  Let me know what you think by leaving a review!

I’ll be releasing another installment in two weeks or so to
stay in the loop (and to get free books and other fancy stuff)
Join my Book club
.

Stay Curious,

Summer Prescott