LITMIR.BIZ

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along the harbor to cool down.” It was true yesterday. I hoped the truth part came through and the nervous part would be chalked up to finding a dead body. Every detective novel I’d ever read said to keep your answers short, so I did. I wished he didn’t have the aviators on so I could get more of a read of what he was thinking.

      “You always run with your purse?”

      He was observant. I’d slung it cross-body style after I’d picked it up. “Not always. I was hoping to grab some breakfast somewhere.” Thank heavens I had running shoes on. At least they lent some plausibility to my story.

      He jotted down notes. “How well do you know Elwell?”

      “I don’t really know him.”

      Officer Biffle looked up from his notebook.

      “Elwell hangs out at the Sea Glass sometimes. He was in the bar yesterday, and I asked Joaquín—he’s the bartender—why Elwell was wearing an armadillo on his head. I thought it was strange, but I’m new to the area, so maybe not.” I didn’t want to seem judgmental.

      “It’s strange.”

      I ran through my few observations. I left out the part about hearing Vivi argue with a man. I didn’t know whether it was Elwell. Well, not for sure anyway. “Do you think it was a robbery?” That would be better—not for Elwell of course, what with him being dead and all—but for Vivi.

      “We don’t make snap judgments about murders.”

      “Good to know.”

      “I’ll need your contact details,” he said.

      Oh, sugar. I gave him my cell phone number, hoping that would be enough. It wasn’t.

      “What’s your address?” he asked after he wrote down my number.

      “You can find me at the Sea Glass.” I waved a hand toward it.

      “I need the address. Of where you’re staying.”

      People around here spoke more slowly than they did in Chicago. But his words were so slow it was obvious he thought I was an idiot.

      “I’ve been moving around. It’s tourist season and hard to find a place to stay. One that I can afford anyway.” Maybe I was an idiot—I wasn’t even sure Vivi was going to pay me beyond the tips I made. She’d made it clear she didn’t want me around. I saw a twitch of his lips. Not the kind that foreshadowed a smile, but the kind that meant someone was angry. My oldest brother was the master of the twitch, and every part of me wanted to run like I had as a kid, but in this case I managed to stay put. Bolting wouldn’t go well for me. I gave him the address of the two hotels I’d stayed at. Didn’t say I hadn’t been at either last night or the two nights before that. He grimaced when I mentioned the low-rent one.

      “Not very safe,” he said.

      “I know, sir. I’m continuing my search for an apartment.”

      He let it go after that. Thank heavens.

      “Let me know if you think of anything else.” Biffle whipped out a card and handed it to me.

      “Yes, sir.” He turned and almost ran over Vivi. I hadn’t noticed her approach because I’d been concentrating on Officer Biffle’s reflective lenses the whole time. I looked around for Rhett, but he was long gone apparently. My hormones were sad, but my brain did a cheer. He didn’t look like a killer, but then neither had Ted Bundy—a good-looking serial killer who had committed murders right here in the Florida Panhandle. I loved true crime in book form and on TV, which had come back to haunt me the two nights I’d slept in my car. But being involved with a real-life death I could do without. I’m sure Elwell would be the first to agree with me on that.

      Biffle nodded to Vivi, skirted around her, and headed to his patrol car. I guess that meant I was free to go unless Vivi had something to say to me.

      “Vivi, are you all right?” Wade Thomas rushed over to her. He owned the Briny Pirate, the restaurant next door to the Sea Glass. Not only owned it, but was the chef too, and made the best gumbo east of New Orleans—at least that’s what his menu said. I hadn’t had a chance to try it yet. Wade gripped Vivi’s arms, staring into her eyes.

      “Let’s go get some coffee,” Wade said.

      Vivi took another look at me before she smiled at Wade. What the heck was she looking at? Hadn’t she ever seen someone with messy hair before? I stepped back so they could go around me, worried thoughts moving like a school of fish through my mind. Vivi looked as put together as ever as she linked arms with Wade—not like she’d been standing around in the increasingly hot weather. Not at all like a woman who’d argued with and killed someone last night. Not that I’d run into a lot—or any—women who had killed someone the night before. Who was I to say what they looked like?

      Was I really wondering if Vivi had killed Elwell? Boone’s beloved grandmother? The sweet old woman I’d moved down here to help? Well, that was the whole point, wasn’t it? Vivi wasn’t sweet or so old. She certainly wasn’t frail. Physically, she could have done it. But heck, so could I. Or most of the patrons I’d seen at the Sea Glass. Just because Vivi argued with someone last night, it didn’t make her a killer. I needed to clear my head. I needed to run.

      CHAPTER 5

      I headed to my car and drove to Destin, wanting to put some space between me and the dumpster behind the Sea Glass. I parked at the Crab Trap, a restaurant and bar at James Lee Park on a beautiful, wide stretch of beach. I switched to an old pair of running shoes and headed west on the beach. My brothers always teased me about my running. It had started as a way to get away from them when I was five, and as I grew older, I realized it was a way to get away from almost everything. This morning it was a way to try to unsee Elwell’s corpse. It didn’t take me long to figure out running wasn’t working.

      My legs started aching not too long into my run. I wasn’t used to running in the sand, but I pushed on. There was some chub rub, as my brothers called it, going on with my thighs. I wasn’t one of those lanky runner types. Most people tried to cover their surprise when I said I ran regularly. I was a basset hound born to a family of whippets. Back in the family history somewhere, there must be a sturdy plowman whose genes were passed along to me. Thanks a lot, dude.

      Eventually, the tang of salt air, the cries of gulls, and the grace of the pelicans skimming the surf soothed me. Colorful beach umbrellas stood at attention in front of the condos I passed. Rows of chairs sat under them, two by two. The sun smacked me like someone had a magnifying glass on a grasshopper. I wasn’t the only runner out here and I did the chin lift at people as I went by them. Fifteen minutes later, I turned around at what I’d heard the locals call the Old Pier. All that was left of it were a few wooden posts standing firm out in the water.

      When I returned to the Crab Trap, I grabbed my toiletries, some clean clothes, an apple, and a bottle of water from my car. After I showered and dressed in the bathroom, I sat on a picnic table under a wooden pavilion and ate my apple.

      I glanced around, taking in the people laying out beach towels and the gentle lapping water. It looked like paradise. But it didn’t feel that way to me. What was I doing here? Boone. My heart clinched again at the loss of him. I missed him. Six months ago, his unit had been attacked while they were out on patrol. Boone hadn’t been found, but they also hadn’t found his remains. A buddy in his unit had called me to give me the news. Boone had talked a lot about me to him, and when Boone was still alive, the three of us had video chatted several times. Boone’s friend had tried to reassure me. Told me maybe Boone had gotten lost in the melee and he’d turn back up. They were looking for him. But I knew in my heart at that moment Boone was dead.

      I’d spent the first month after he went missing crying. Pulling it together when I was at the library with kids. Their innocent, happy faces probably saved me from a complete shutdown. With time, I realized I had to live a good life for both of us. However, being here in the Panhandle of Florida, in a place I knew Boone loved, stirred up a lot of

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