A Crabby Killer Read Online Free PDF

on him. “Really? With who?”
    Larry screwed up his mouth. “I’m not sure. He was down near the boat tours.”
    Zambuco squinted toward the longer docks on the far left where Crabby Tours and Barnacle Bob’s parked their boats. The two businesses ran sightseeing and fishing boat trips for tourists and had a harsh rivalry going, each trying to win the bulk of the season's tourist business. It was a little awkward that they parked their boats near each other, but that was one of the longest docks and the shorter ones were reserved for individual fishing boats.
    Claire wondered what the dead man had to do with them and if that had anything to do with his argument with Mae.
    “That’s a good enough place to start.” Zambuco watched them wheel the body away.
    Indeed it was, Claire thought, surprising herself at how readily her mind took on the task of investigating the case. If she was honest, though, she was already coming up with a plan of action in her head because she was sure she wasn’t the only one who had seen Mae argue with the man. She also knew that the twine around his neck would lead right to Mae as soon as anyone saw one of her newly designed jars of jam.
    Zambuco wasn’t from the island and he wouldn’t protect Mae like she would, so she’d have to investigate.
    She could practically hear Dom’s brain humming beside her. She knew he would want to investigate, too. But Dom was a newcomer to the island and not loyal to Mae like she was, and there was no telling where his investigation would lead. She already knew he suspected something and he’d been in Chowders when Mae had shown them the twine.
    And Dom was good. He could really throw a wrench into the works and that could be a problem if he suspected Mae. There was only one way to prevent that. As much as it pained her, she was going to have to team up with Dom to investigate the case. She just had to come up with some way to persuade him that it was his idea.
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    T heir planned breakfast at Chowders had been ruined by the discovery of the body, so after Zambuco had done his round of questioning, Dom had gone home to his condo at the top of Israel Head Hill to indulge in one of his favorite breakfasts of Italian pastry.
    He set a cannoli into the exact middle of a gold-rimmed, china dessert plate and cut it into five equal pieces, taking care not to crack the baked pastry shell. Setting his knife down one-quarter inch from the plate and at a perfect, ninety-degree angle to the edge of the table, he put one of the slices of cannoli on his fork and lifted it to his mouth, his tastebuds watering as he anticipated the contrast of the sweet center and crunchy outer shell.
    As he chewed the creamy confection, he thought about the morning’s events. He wondered who the mysterious man was.
    Should he ask Sarah?
    When he had asked before, she had brushed it off, claiming he was just a customer looking for pizza. But judging by the way they were arguing, Dom could tell that wasn’t true. If he asked her again, though, it would seem like he was meddling in her personal business and he had the feeling Sarah was not going to confide in him.
    And that was her right. It was, after all, none of his business, but the discovery of the body and the twine that had killed him didn’t look good for Sarah. Dom didn’t think she had killed the man, but it might be smart to find out where she was at the time of death and maybe even if she still had the ball of twine at Chowders so he could advise her on how to handle the police if they came sniffing around.
    Dom had to admit, the prospect of entering into an investigation was exciting. But it was even more urgent that he clear Sarah because he had seen the way Claire was looking at that twine. He didn’t know what else Claire knew about it, but he knew her well enough to know that she was going to start digging.
    What if she discovered something that made Sarah look guilty? Would she tell her nephew?
    Dom knew that