Death of the Swami Schwartz (A Kate Kennedy Mystery Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

murdered. As the executor of his will and his best friend, I’m convinced that, under these totally unexpected circumstances, he would have wanted to be cremated.” Jack could feel sweat breaking out all over his body.
    “An autopsy and a cremation. Your behavior belies all that I believe in. All that I thought you believed in, Jack.” Magnolia groaned sadly, then made a sniffling noise. “I’m taking this up with the elders at the next Lazarus Society meeting.”
    “May I remind you, my dear, we are the elders.” Not wanting to push the old witch too far, he switched from curt to caring. “Now have a cup of tea, Magnolia, then start planning a great memorial service and an elegant reception. Invite all of the A-list. Think of it as a going away party. I’ll bring his ashes in my favorite Indian urn. You know how much Swami always loved your parties.”

Eight

      
    Ocean Vista’s lobby had been decorated with too much gilt, too much marble, and way too many mirrors for its aging population. The fountain in the center featured a faux alabaster statue of Aphrodite surrounded with Hallmark-card-cute Cupids in some seventies’ interior designer’s misguided vision of grandeur.
    However, the comfortable green couch and several groupings of easy chairs made the lobby a gathering place for gossips. Several sat there now, chatting the fine Saturday morning away.
    The front desk, off to the right as Kate and Ballou came out of the elevator, was manned by the miserable Miss Mitford. With her sullen expression firmly in place and a severe black suit covering her thin frame, the sentinel was guarding her post like a U.S. Marine MP guarding his prisoners.
    Rather than cross the lobby with Ballou, a violation of the condo’s rules, Kate made two quick right turns and exited into the pool area. They’d walk on the beach instead of along A1A. “We’re flexible, right, Ballou?”
    The Westie yelped eagerly. Kate took that as a yes. Charlie had always insisted Ballou understood English better than several of his fellow employees at the NYPD.
    While she had no real agenda, Kate did have a vague notion she might just check out Mancini’s on their morning stroll.
    She skirted around the sunbathers sprawled on chaise lounges, all lined up in rows facing east. Nary a head turned as she and Ballou crossed the pool area behind them. Much as she resented Charlie dying, leaving her alone in a retirement place of his choosing, Kate had to admit this was one gorgeous morning. On the beach, palm trees swayed like fat hula dancers in the light breeze. The ocean, white-capped with winter waves—not nearly as high as the summer waves at her beloved Jones Beach—was a Wedgewood blue today, diluting to a hint of aqua in the shallow water. And the sun that Ocean Vista’s residents were worshipping deserved nothing less. Big, bright, bold, and beautiful, it sent rays of warmth down Kate’s back as she and Ballou trudged north through the sand.
    While he preferred woods to water, Ballou seemed delighted to be out for a walk in this glorious weather, investigating the odd dead crab, digging fiercely and spraying sand in his wake.
    Uninvited, Swami’s death floated into Kate’s mind and anchored there, dragging her spirits down, turning the sunshine sour.
    What a waste of a wonderful life. A man who’d devoted his time and energy to helping others achieve a healthier body and soul. A man who’d convinced Kate she could move on, cherishing Charlie’s memory, and knowing her husband’s love would always be with her, by living—or trying to live—in the moment.
    Why would anyone want to kill a man like that?
    As they neared Neptune Boulevard, Kate marveled at the size of the crowd.
    Snowbirds, only in Florida from New Year’s to Easter, seemed determined to make the most of their season in the sun. Pale tourists lay on hotel towels, their necks and noses turning red, and it wasn’t even ten a.m. Local families toting kids, coolers,