Dan nodded and jogged back to his cruiser.
“Florida Department of Legal Eagles?” asked Charlotte.
Frank chuckled. “So, you don’t know everything after all. It’s Florida Department of Law Enforcement. They’ll need to take a look. Sheriff’s department doesn’t have the resources for a full-blown investigation.”
“But you have me.”
“Right. My mistake, cancel that order.” He threw out an arm and pulled Charlotte to him for a quick side-hug and she giggled.
She’s so adorable.
Frank stretched his back with another, deeper groan and by the time he’d looked back down, Charlotte had the corpse’s head in her gloved hands, lifting it to peek underneath it.
“Hey, put that down. I’ve officially declared this a suspicious death.”
“Sorry.” Charlotte set the dead man’s head back down and stood. “It’s definitely suspicious.”
“Man’s got a Boy Scout patch in his mouth. Of course it’s suspicious.”
“And that other thing…”
Frank sighed. “Fine. You already cost me a ton of paperwork finding that patch. What other thing is going to complicate my life?”
Charlotte’s eyes lit with excitement. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Frank tried not to laugh. If he ever revealed how much her quests for the truth amused and impressed him, she might end up twice as tenacious.
Charlotte pointed at the man’s head. “It looks like he has a massive cut on his skull.”
“That’s your big reveal? He fell off a roof.”
“But look.” Charlotte jumped up and down as if she were on a trampoline, stopping to look exasperated by his befuddled silence.
“Look at how springy the grass is,” she said.
Frank found himself distracted by a different oddity.
All that jumping and she doesn’t sound winded.
Frank couldn’t remember the last time he did something that active without collapsing into a chair afterwards.
“So?” he asked.
“So, it’s too soft for him to have the deep smashy mess he has there.”
“Smashy? Is that an official detective word?”
“It is now. It looks like there’s bits of masonry in there. Red like brick...”
She drifted off, and Frank felt certain she was accessing some sort of gravel database in her brain, trying to find a match.
“I’m sure there are bits of rock down there under the grass,” he said, pointing at the ground.
“Yes, but it isn’t that kind. It’s more like—” She looked around before wandering toward the back of the house.
When she didn’t immediately return, Frank sniffed.
Okay. Nice talk.
Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned to find Daniel returning.
“Where’d Charlotte go?” he asked.
“Who knows.” Frank turned to the housekeeper, who was still standing at the corner of the house, wide-eyed and watching.
“You know a little Spanish, don’t you, Dan?”
Daniel grinned as if he had a secret no one else knew. “Un poco.”
“Okay. Could you un poco her statement from her?”
“Sure.” Daniel pulled his notepad out of his belt as if every page said Deputy Dan is Super Cool! and swaggered over to the woman.
That’ll keep them busy until FDLE gets here. Now I just have to get Charlotte out of here before—
“Brick!” called a voice from the back yard.
Frank took a cleansing breath and strolled around the house to find Charlotte pointing triumphantly at a brick lying in a muddy corner of the yard.
He licked his lips and stared down at the brick. “Dare I ask?”
“Blood.” She leaned down to point at a brown stain marring the edge of the brick.
Frank pulled his glasses from his head and lowered himself to a squat to inspect the stain.
“Could be dirt,” he said.
“Could be blood.”
It does look like blood. Still…
“So you think he fell on the brick and then made it as far as the ladder before he collapsed?”
Frank knew the chances of his fanciful scenario being what Charlotte suspected were about as likely as him standing back up without his knees cracking like Chinese New Year.
“No. I think someone hit him with the brick and tried to make it look like he fell off the roof.”
He sighed. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a pain in the neck?”
She smiled and Frank held up a hand.
“My knees locked up.”
Charlotte helped him to stand straight, and they headed toward the front of the house.
“Why couldn’t you take up mahjong like the other ladies? Why do you always have to make my life so difficult?”
“Sorry. I’m afraid you were always my hero. Not Mrs. Terry.”
I’m her hero?
Frank felt his throat tighten. “Who’s Mrs. Terry?” he asked, trying to change the subject before his eyes teared.
“She’s the best mahjong player in Pineapple Port.”
“Right.” He swallowed hard. “Just my luck.”
Chapter Two
“Sounds like we’re going to get a direct hit,” said Darla as she and Mariska selected Publix shopping carts. They jostled hips, each trying to avoid the cart with the wonky leg, its wheel hovering three inches off the ground like a levitating magician.
With a grunt, Mariska jerked her cart clear of its nested mates. “Stupid hurricane. The thing is crazy. It’s headed for Texas, then Louisiana, then back at Texas, and now here.”
“Staggering like a drunk,” agreed Darla. “They should have named it after my ex-husband.”
“Which one?”
Darla shrugged. “Take your pick.”
They pushed their way towards the first aisle. Mariska stopped to check a display for BOGO wine, tucking tight to the bottles to avoid other shoppers. She didn’t drink wine, but how could she avoid a buy one get one free? To not buy a bottle would be losing money.
“It’s busy for this time of day,” she mumbled.
Darla agreed.
Plucking a bottle from the shelf to read its description, Mariska’s elbow grazed the shirt of a man rustling through plastic boxes of strawberries. He’d stood so close to her she could feel
