Daiquiri Dock Murder Read Online Free PDF Page A

do what I’m told.” She grinned. “May write a poem about a packrat some day.”
    With a quick wave, Dolly picked up the magazines, turned and headed toward the mansion while Kane followed the circle driveway back to the street and pointed us toward the hotel. I guessed Dolly had tucked a poem into my pocket, but I didn’t read it right then. No point in giving Kane a chance to laugh at her.
    Compared to the Vexton mansion, The Blue Mermaid looked like King Neptune’s palace—five stories tall, a lattice-and vine-covered portico, and hundreds of overhead windows that caught the sunlight and reflected back silvery blue images. Out front, a bigger-than-life sculpture of a mermaid guarded the entryway. Kane followed the bricked driveway that led to our family’s private entrance at the back of the hotel. Mother always hated having his battered work truck out front where potential patrons could see it and perhaps decide to book rooms someplace else. We went inside and took the service elevator to the penthouse.
    “I locked the door to your suite this morning after Threnody packed your clothes for you.”
    The elevator door closed behind us, and we stepped into the hallway where Wyland, famous marine life artist of the day, had painted sea-creature murals on the inner walls—whales, manta rays, and mermaids relaxing in a bed of sea fans and conch shells.
    “Glad you locked the place, Kane. Wouldn’t dream of going out and leaving my suite open. Got my key ring?”
    Kane pulled my keys from his pocket and unlocked the door for me. I stepped inside my suite, then hesitated.
    “What’s the matter?”
    “Nothing.” I walked on, unwilling for Kane to see my nervousness. I refused to admit to fear. A searching look around told me that nobody had been inside the suite except Kane and me—and Threnody. But if someone had murdered Diego, I might be next on the killer’s list. To hide my uneasiness, I strode to the refrigerator and pulled out a carafe of iced tea.
    “How about a drink, Kane? I’m dying of thirst and that hospital water tasted like pure formaldehyde.”
    “You swig down lots of formaldehyde?” Kane stepped close and blew his warm breath into my ear. I laughed, kissed him lightly on the cheek, then eased to the cupboard to get glasses.
    “No formaldehyde when there’s something better at hand.” I poured us tumblers of tea and added some ice cubes before I remembered the special treat Kane made for us yesterday noon.
    “Kane! Your crème brûlée! We have two ramekins left from yesterday. Shall we eat them now?”
    “Glad you remembered!”
    Kane carried the ramekins and I carried the tea to the snack bar. Before we sat down to enjoy the treat, Kane kicked off his shoes, walked across the living room to open the sliding doors that opened onto a half-balcony overlooking the hotel pool. Mother and Cheri’s suites opened onto full balconies and I tried not to resent that although, in my mind, it stood as another example of my underdog status in the family. I followed Kane onto the balcony, gazing into the distance where our view included Key West harbor, and beyond that, the Gulf of Mexico.
    Kane draped his arm around my shoulder and sighed. “Don’t know how you ever get any writing done with a view like this tempting you to relax and enjoy.”
    “When I’m tempted to goof off too long, my conscience hears my computer and steel files calling from my office.” I nodded toward the next room. “The Citizen does give me deadlines, you know. Right now, I have a couple of columns written ahead of schedule.”
    “Good thing. It’ll give you some extra time to deal with the police investigation. And I’m guessing there’ll be one starting in the very near future—like today.”
    We returned to the snack bar to enjoy the crème brûlée.
    “Kane, there’s nothing nicer than a man who likes to cook. This custard is delicious—sweet, creamy, and crunchy on top. Excellent. Feel free to use my