Designed for Death Read Online Free PDF Page B

scrunched on sand. He’s after me. My heart kicking into overdrive, I whipped around to face my assailant.
    “Dick Parker!” I yelled, coming to an abrupt stop. “What are you doing here? Following me? There’s a killer on the loose, for God’s sake. What a time to sneak up on somebody.” So what if I sounded like a shrew? He had it coming, scaring me like that.
    Red faced, dripping sweat, he threw me one of his signature grins. “I thought it was you. I’d know your aah—”
    Ass.
    “—stride anywhere.”
    “Don’t you ever give up? You’re a married man.”
    “Ha!” He tossed his head, flinging sweat drops onto the sand. “It’s a compliment.”
    I ignored him and started a power walk. While he panted beside me, I inhaled the sweet, salty air and let the tension drain away. A few people had come onto the beach laden with picnic hampers and chairs, ready to settle in for the day. I was glad to see them.
    “Aren’t you talking to me?” Dick asked after a few moments of silence. He used his remorseful-little-boy voice, but I didn’t trust it. Or him.
    “You scared me, is all. So what are you doing here so early? You don’t usually hit the beach until after work.”
    “I didn’t sleep last night. Thought maybe a jog would pep me up.” He tried on the grin again, but it was a weak version of his old smile.

    Still red faced and panting, he needed a break, so I slowed to a stroll. This rollercoaster fear had to stop, but when and how? For openers, no more jogging on a deserted beach. I’d switch to afternoons when there were more people around working on their tans. As for me, I’d get to redesign the White House before I’d ever get a tan. Yet here I was, living in southwest Florida with skin that turned freckles into a cottage industry. So much for trying to escape the reality of Jack’s death. Yesterday, in this beautiful, sun-drenched place, death had caught up to me with a vengeance.
    “Yeah, I’m whipped all right.” Dick had dark smudges under his eyes, and he hadn’t bothered to shave. He scooped up a handful of broken shells only to let them fall, one by one, onto the sand. “This is a nightmare, Deva.”
    “I know.”
    “Have you read the Daily News? ”
    I watched the shells drop from his fingers. “No.”
    “The story’s plastered all over the front page. There’s a picture of Treasure. Surfside’s mentioned. The address. My name. Your name.” He paused to give me a blue-eyed glance of sympathy. “They’re calling it murder.”
    “What else could it be?”
    “Yeah.” He peered out at the gulf. “Did she look bad?” I could tell he needed to know but dreaded hearing the answer.
    Despite the heat, I shivered. “Only a madman could have twisted her neck like that.”
    Dick flung the last shell into the water, stretched and swung his arms at a phantom sparring partner. His hard work at Surfside had left him with only a slight beer gut. Except for that and his heavy eyes, he looked good. He tossed me a wave. “So long, Deva. I’d better finish the run. I have a feeling this’ll be a busy day.”
    As he raced down the beach, his heels kicking up the sand, I strolled back home. The Naples Daily in its plastic sleeve was propped against my front door. As I bent to pick it up, footsteps came clattering down the outside stairs.
    “Deva, I was hoping I’d see you.” Neatly dressed, with a fresh bandage on his left hand, Neal hurried toward me. He held up a bag from Publix Market. “I was going to leave this at your door. When you see what’s inside, you’ll kill me.”
    I shook my head. “Never.”
    A flush mounted his cheeks. “Figure of speech only. You wouldn’t hurt a soul. I know that.” He peered into my face. “How’re you feeling? You’re a little pale today.”
    “Didn’t sleep much last night.”
    He nodded. “I don’t think anybody did. Between the throbbing in my hand and thinking about Treasure, I was up most of the night too. And Dick sat out