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Come now. 2012 San Remo. Near Tayla. Jack wasn’t one to waste words. If he said now that’s what he meant. Kate felt a sense of panic. Was something wrong with Aunt Sara?

It was bad for business, but Kate pretty much shoved the two lookie-loos out the front door and locked it. She ran to her car, which was parked on the street. When she drove clients around, she used her sedate, boring sedan. But on days like this, when she met them somewhere, she drove Aunt Sara’s fast yellow MINI Cooper. When she floored the accelerator, the little car leaped forward.

Since Tayla was her boss, Kate had been to her house several times and knew the address. Jack was standing by the gate. All six foot two of him, sweaty T-shirt plastered to his muscular chest, was frowning.

He motioned for her to park on the far side of the road, and as soon as she was out of the car, she said in fear, “Aunt Sara?”

“She’s fine. What the hell took you so long?” Turning, he headed toward the house, Kate close behind him.

She was unperturbed by the legendary Wyatt temper. “Stopped for a couple of beers. This better be good. You made me lose two clients.”

“Ha! I met them, remember? They aren’t buying anything.”

“They—Ow!” She’d stepped on a rock.

“Where are your shoes?”

“They were heels. Threw them in the back.”

Jack turned, picked her up, and carried her the four steps to the porch, then set her down.

Kate had always been clear that she looked at Jack as the brother she’d never had. But he had very different ideas about the two of them, and often found ways to demonstrate that. “If you think that’s going to impress me, you—” She didn’t finish her thought, because she saw the sheriff’s car peeping out from under the trees, and she heard the low rumble of his voice inside. Her eyes widened.

“There’s a body inside, but if you faint again I’ll—”

Kate was already running, barefoot, to the back of the house. The first thing she saw was Aunt Sara, her face pressed to her beloved Fujifilm camera, shooting away. That she had it on silent—or “sneak mode” as Sara called it—made Kate look at the sheriff. He was blocking her full view of a woman sitting in a chair.

“I don’t think Kate needs to see this,” the sheriff said, but Sara put her camera down long enough to give him a look that meant he was to step aside.

Kate didn’t faint as she’d done the last time she’d seen a dead body, but she did sway on her feet. Considering what she was looking at, it was a wonder she didn’t hit the floor. There was a bullet hole in the woman’s head, a huge knife in her chest close to her heart, and... Was that at the side of her mouth green?

Behind Kate, Jack put his hands on her shoulders to steady her.

In the distance they could hear what sounded like the sirens of an army of squad cars coming toward them.

“Get out!” Sheriff Flynn said. “No, Dora, not you. They’ll want to ask you questions. They have to go.”

Kate was still staring at the body, not sure she was even blinking.

Jack was trying to look as though he was unaffected by this, but his face had drained of color.

She took a step closer to him in case either of them went down.

“Did you get it all?” Sheriff Flynn’s voice was gruff as he spoke to Sara, who’d never stopped snapping away.

She nodded. Her face was even more bloodless than Jack’s.

Suddenly, a siren seemed to be just outside the house. Sheriff Flynn opened a back door. “Go!”

Jack, Sara and Kate scurried out, then went around the side of the house. They were hiding in the shrubs when four Broward County squad cars pulled into the drive. As soon as it was clear, they hurried through the gate. Jack’s Harley was under some flowering shrubs and Sara’s MINI was at the side of the road.

They didn’t have to say anything to know what to do. Kate and Sara got into the car and Jack drove the bike across Longshore Drive to Sara’s house.

Inside, they went down the hall past Jack’s room, through the dining room and the kitchen, to the family room. They flopped down on the big sofa, Sara in the middle, and stared into space.

It was a while before anyone spoke.

“Do you think Sheriff Flynn just wanted some private photos?” Sara asked.


Tags: Jude Deveraux Medlar Mystery Mystery