and teak lounges. Under a vast umbrella, Helen saw two tanned legs on a teak lounge, spread wide and unmoving. The toenails were bloodred.
The hair went up on the back of Helen’s neck. “Tammie?” she said.
Her heart slammed against her ribs. Helen felt dizzy. She’d stumbled on a dead body before. She never wanted to see one again. Please, she prayed. Please let Tammie be OK. What if the woman had had a stroke or a heart attack? It happened to perfectly healthy granola chompers.
Helen looked at the splayed legs and winced. What if something worse had happened?
It wasn’t natural for a woman to be so still. A fly crawled up one brown leg toward the knee. No manicured hand reached out to shoo it away.
Helen had to see the rest of the body, but she was too afraid to move.
“Tammie, please say you’re OK,” she begged.
No answer.
Helen unfroze one leg, then the other. She moved carefully around the umbrella table, alert for blood spatters or signs of a struggle. No furniture was broken or overturned, but the waxed legs on the lounge had a lifeless, rubbery look. The two tall glasses by the chaise were unbroken.
Then Helen saw the rest of the body and gave a little shriek.
“Oh, don’t be such a prude,” Tammie Grimsby said. “Haven’t you ever seen a naked woman before?”
