All of a sudden, they heard Nick Goren’s booming voice coming from the direction of Gold Coast by the Sea.
“Let’s investigate,” Kate said to Liz.
They tiptoed toward the voices, passing Minna in Home Arts and waving. The lights were on in Deli-casies by the Sea, but no one was up front. Liz assumed Ryan was back in the kitchen making salads.
Kate ushered Liz into her shop and they both crouched down by the half wall and listened.
“What right do you have to give your girlfriend of two minutes a piece of my estate jewelry? I want it back,” Edward said in a very calm, but loud voice.
“You have tons of stuff. You won’t miss one little bracelet,” Nick said. “Come on, Brittany, let’s get out of here. Once again, my father treats me like a second-class citizen. I quit. Find some other minion to work for you.”
“I’ll take the cost of that bracelet out of your wages.”
“You have a showcase of jewelry. You’re just jealous you don’t have a love life.”
Edward raised the decibel level. “I’m not giving you one thin red dime if you walk out. Your mother must be turning over in her grave.”
They heard Brittany say, “Come on, pooh bear. You can stay with me until this all blows over.”
“It won’t,” Nick said. “The damage has been done.”
As they marched past Books & Browsery by the Sea, Liz poked her head up to get a look at the bracelet. It wasn’t anything spectacular, and it didn’t look like something belonging in a sunken treasure chest. As they walked away, she was almost positive that they were the two people she’d seen on the beach: the hulking, no-neck Nick and the diminutive Brittany.
When they heard the front door slam, Liz and Kate stood up.
“Should we go check on Edward?” Kate asked.
“Uh, no. Not a good idea. Let him cool off.”
“What do you think of the idea that Nick and Brittany killed Regina for the necklace and earrings?”
“I certainly wouldn’t take them off the list, that’s for sure. Let’s go over to Deli-casies. I’m curious about Ryan’s cooking ability.”
“Hey, missy. Do I feel a little wavering in your feelings for the guy?”
“No. He’s still a jerk. But maybe not as big of a jerk as I thought before.”
She grabbed Liz’s hand and gave her a very serious, unlike-Kate look. “Don’t you think if people knew everything that went down with you in New York, they might be more compassionate?”
“I don’t want compassion. I can’t change what the papers or Travis say about me. I still haven’t told Aunt Amelia everything. She doesn’t judge me.”
“Okay. All I’m saying is, if you want any kind of a future relationship, then you have to give the guy a chance by telling him what really happened.”
“He’s from New York. I’m not going back there, so there’s no chance for a relationship with him, anyway.”
When they walked into Deli-casies, Ryan was at the coffee bar staring down at a piece of paper. Kate sat on his right, Liz on his left.
“Are you going to close up?” Kate asked. “There’s only been one customer all day.”
“No, I’ll stick it out,” Ryan said. “I was just looking over a recipe of my granddad’s for conch salad. Where do you even buy conch?”
Liz took the recipe out of his hands. “It looks yummy. Conch usually comes from Key West, known as the ‘Conch Republic’.”
Ryan said, “Sorry, but I can’t imagine eating conch. The rubbery insides of a giant seashell that you hold to your ear to hear ocean waves? But I guess at that point they’ve vacated their shells. What’s the name for a group of conch? A school of conch?”
“A concert of conch,” Liz said, laughing.
“Or like a murder of crows, a murder of conch,” Kate added.
Ryan turned to Liz. “Speaking of murder, your great-aunt called. She asked me to come to dinner. Apparently, David Worth has just arrived and insists on eating dinner in the dining room. She wants me there as backup in case he faints or needs help because of his wound. Not that I’m a paramedic, but I’ve had some training.”
Liz said, “I was going to eat at home, but I think I’ve changed my mind. I’ll make something, and give Pierre the night off.”
“Good, as long as it’s not seashell innards,” Ryan said.
Liz smiled. “Someday, I’ll make you try some of my conch ceviche.”
“Ugh,” he said. “Raw conch!”
“I bet you’ve eaten the worm at the bottom of a bottle of tequila before,” Kate said.
Ryan answered, “Yeah, in college, but that was on a fraternity dare.”
Liz handed him back the recipe. “‘Ceviche’ means that the raw seafood is placed in a bowl and marinated in lime juice. The acid in the lime cooks it, so it’s not actually raw.”
The rain on the terra-cotta roof was relentless; the wind so fierce, it sounded like a Black Hawk from Patrick Air Force Base was trying to land on the emporium. Ryan got off the stool and said, “I better get back in the kitchen to put things away. There’s no sense in making anything in this weather. If someone does come in, they can have their choice of anything except Granddad’s salads. Kate, did you tell your friend about our other visitor, Agent Pearson?”
“She was looking for Francie,” Kate said.
Liz was relieved the detective wasn’t looking for her. “Ryan, before you go, I wanted to ask if you’ve ever talked to Edward or Nick at Gold Coast by the Sea? They might be more apt to share something with another guy.”
“I’ve only been here since Thursday, but I’ll try to strike up a bro-convo with them.” He flexed his upper arms in an attempt to look manly. It worked. Then he looked down at Liz’s feet. “Hey, you’ve got an admirer.”
She thought for a minute he meant himself, then she heard a soft mewing. “Bronte!” Liz hopped off the bar stool and scooped her up. “What are you doing here?
