She stood and offered Mick a close-lipped smile. A trail of tears drew shiny lines from the corners of his eyes and made it look as if he were crying. On the side of his head closest to her she traced the wide scar that never lost its angry red glow. It traveled five inches from above his ear and arced around to the back of his shaved head. A network of blue vein roadways ran in every direction beneath his thinning skin.
She patted his hand again. “I’m glad we had this little talk. You always know what to do. You always did.”
Angelina made her way out of the room and entered the main living area just as the nurse returned. She pointed back to the bedroom. “Thanks, Martisha. Can you be sure to moisturize his hands? They’re looking a little dry.”
Martisha nodded and Angelina headed back downstairs to the lobby.
Time to talk to Charlotte.
Chapter Ten
“Sonuva—”
Declan, standing in Mariska’s foyer with Abby and Izzy on leashes beside him, jumped at the sound of the voice. He turned to find Bob walking through the door.
“Hey, Bob.”
Bob looked up, seeming equally as surprised to see him. “What are you doing here?” he looked down and pointed. “That’s my dog.”
Declan chuckled. “Yep. Charlotte went out of town and she left Abby with Mariska. Remember?”
Bob grunted.
Declan paused until he realized that was all the answer he was going to get. “I thought I’d swing by and give the dogs a walk before heading home.”
“It’s late.”
“I closed up the shop and did bills for a bit. Catching up.”
“Good, good.” Bob sighed.
“Something wrong?”
“Aah.” He waved his hand through the air as if swatting at a fly. “Some guy came to the bar talking about T.K.”
“What’s T.K.?”
“Not what’s. Who. The Tomato King.”
Declan recalled the sign touting the freshness of the tomatoes of The Tomato King. He’d passed it a million times over the years. “Oh, that farm out there off three-oh-one?”
Bob nodded. “He died. T.K. Couple of weeks ago.”
“You knew him?”
“He was a Gopher.”
“Your drinking group?”
“It’s a lodge.”
“Right. Drinking group.” Declan grinned.
Bob tried not to, but the corner of his mouth curled up for one brief second and he leaned forward to take Izzy’s leash. “Give me my dog, you smartass.”
Declan laughed and handed him both leashes before leaning down to unclip them. The dogs had already sensed they were in for a story and sat down.
“So you said someone came in looking for T.K.?”
“Yeah. Looking to serve him papers, kicking him off his land.”
“Yikes.”
“Yeah, yikes. His wife, Elizabeth, is still there. Tommy, Mac and Frank went out there to see if they could help.”
“And you feel bad you didn’t go?”
He nodded. “I was already late. Mariska would have—”
As if invoked, Mariska appeared from the lanai.
“What are you two doing? It’s late. Let the boy go home, Bob.”
Bob grunted.
“They both did their thing,” said Declan, motioning to the dogs.
“Thank you.” Mariska’s gaze returned to Bob. “He saw me struggling out there trying to walk two dogs and helped out. You were too busy out drinking.”
“There was an emergency,” said Bob, not looking at her.
She scoffed. “Emergency need for a drink.”
“No, someone’s trying to kick T.K. off his land.”
“T.K.’s dead.”
“Kick Elizabeth off then, you know what I mean.”
Mariska put her hands on her hips. “Well, that makes more sense now.”
“What does?”
“Frank called Darla and Darla called me. He told her to tell me to tell you to meet them at T.K.’s in the morning. They’re staying overnight to keep watch. I didn’t get why at the time, but now it makes more sense.”
Bob nodded. “Okay. Will do. You can send it back up the wire that I’ll be there.”
“You can send it yourself. Who was that who brought you home?”
“Herbert. He was going to watch House Hunters with me but he changed his mind.”
“Lucky for you.” Mariska headed down the hall toward the bedroom. “Come on, dogs.”
The dogs stood and trotted after her.
“Sounds like you’re literally in the dog house,” said Declan to Bob as she walked away.
Bob frowned. “You are a smartass. Hey, you wanna come?”
“Where? The Tomato Farm?”
“Sure. Why not? You working tomorrow?”
“Not until four.”
“Okay. Come pick me up. You can help us protest.”
Declan smiled. Thanks to a small problem with his heart which resulted in low blood pressure to his brain and the occasional fainting spell, Bob had recently stopped driving. Or more correctly, Mariska had informed him he wouldn’t be driving until he got his pacemaker. She didn’t want him nodding off at the wheel.
Bob hated spending the money on cabs, so Declan had a good idea why he’d been invited to join.
“Don’t think Mariska will drive you to the farm to protest with your buddies?”
He frowned. “Not a chance. Come on. It’ll be fun. There’ll be beer.”
Declan laughed. “Sure. Wouldn’t miss it. What time?”
“Like seven?”
“In the morning?”
He nodded.
Declan looked at his watch.
So much for sleeping in.
“Sure. See you at seven.”
Bob nodded and started back up the hallway. “I’d like to be there at seven, so come a little early.”
Declan nodded. “Sure.”
Chapter Eleven
Charlotte opened the door to her hotel room and stood at the entry, admiring it.
So cute.
Crisp white sheets peeked out from beneath a coral-patterned quilt. Sea turtle-themed art graced all the available surfaces, each item perfectly treading the line between art and Florida kitsch. A canvas painting of an orange sunrise peeking between the pilings of a tall pier hung on the wall above the bed, surf crashing in the foreground.
Beach-themed rooms usually leaned
