Live and Lime Die: A Key West Culinary Cozy - Book 8 Read Online Free PDF Page B

and once he was certain that she was in good hands and would be
appropriately updated on her daughter’s progress, he hurried back to his car,
impatient to return to the scene of the crime. There was something very strange
about this case, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it. Jogging
through the darkened parking lot, he was so focused on the tasks ahead, that he
never saw the figure dart briefly from the shadows, take aim and fire, the
impact of the bullet slamming him in the chest and knocking him to the ground.
He had enough presence of mind to speed dial the dispatcher and inform her that
there was an officer down in the Emergency satellite parking lot, falling
unconscious, the call still live.
    **
    Waiting
impatiently for word on Tiara’s condition, Marilyn fidgeted in her molded
plastic chair, eventually getting up to pace in the limited and overcrowded
space. She moved to stand just outside the entrance for a bit, in a spot where
she could still see the front desk and would know if the nurse who had spoken
to her earlier had come out to find her. She heard a commotion in the direction
of the parking lot, and peered into the darkness, wondering what was going on.
Out of the darkness, an entire crew of emergency personnel came running with a
man on a gurney. When they reached the pool of light that illuminated the
emergency entrance, Marilyn was shocked to see the pale, unconscious face of
Bernard Cortland.
    “Cort!”
she exclaimed, frightened.
    “Clear
the area,” one of the nurses commanded, glancing at the woman standing in the
doorway.
    Marilyn
stepped aside, as though in a dream, as the man who had always seemed to come
to her rescue was whisked by. She couldn’t tell whether or not he was even
alive or dead. The culmination of the events of the day finally caught up with
her, and the woman who always counted on being able to weather any storm that
came her way, burst into helpless tears. She leaned, sobbing against the wall
next to the automatic doors through which Cort had just entered the ER, and
looked up to see a nurse headed her way.
    “Ms.
Hayes? I have news about your daughter.”
     

Chapter 10
    In
an odd sort of way, it felt really good to be back in the saddle again, and Tim
hummed as he went about his work, alternating his methods only slightly. As
strange as it might seem to most of the population, the former mortician had
always enjoyed his work. The dead were far more amiable than the living, as it
turned out. 
    He
used a hairdryer to dry out the lips so that they could be glued. The eyes were
a bit trickier, jelly-filled things that they were. He had no dome caps to set
on them, rounding out the contours to perfection, so he had to settle for an
overall profile that was less than ideal, but made it work nonetheless. He
thought about actually stitching the insides of the fingers together, rather
than simply gluing them, but it was far messier and much more time consuming,
so he elected to sacrifice the stitching in favor of a more expedient solution,
and uncapped his glue once more.
    Brushing
the hair to a sheen, he applied hairspray to keep it perfectly in place, then
set about putting on makeup. Usually for a gentleman, he’d apply a
natural-looking overall tint, sculpt some planes and shadows after the fact,
and top it off with the slightest tinge of rouge, for an ironically healthful
glow. Tim loved irony, particularly when the carriers of it were the somnolent
faces of the dead. This one, however was special, and got the full treatment,
complete with bright blue eyeshadow and lipstick, a mockery of his unwarranted
machismo. He had to chuckle to himself when he surveyed the final masterpiece.
    “Who’s
the beauty now?” he practically giggled with glee.
    Shouldering
the heavy mound of flesh, taking particular care not to disturb his aesthetic
work, he dumped the unfortunate sap into the back seat of his non-descript
economy car and headed for the docks. The night was warm,