Read Death in Four Courses: A Key West Food Critic Mystery for Free Online

one of my favorite food writers.
    “When I got here, I noticed that one of the statues had been broken off.” I described how I’d come closer, seen the face in the water, and fished out Jonah. “He gave the keynote speech tonight for the food writing conference. We’ve been trying to get him to breathe on his own for the last fifteen minutes or so.” I waved at the waiter, who hovered five feet away, looking as green as the algae that soiled Jonah’s shirt. “I couldn’t say whether he tripped and fell into the pool or whether someone hit him. Either way, he’s got a big lump on his forehead.” I fingered the skin under my widow’s peak, picturing that angry, swollen knot.
    Torrence grimaced, brown eyes narrowing behind his glasses. “Did you see anyone leaving the area around the pool as you entered? Any movement in the bushes surrounding the property?”
    “Nothing like that. No one’s been around at all.I yelled and yelled for help and not one person came. Finally I had to run out to the dessert table to get help.”
    “And how about the ladies’ room?” Torrence asked. “Did you notice anyone there?”
    “Olivia Nethercut used the bathroom the same time I did.” I stopped to take a breath and picture the scene. “Another woman—Sigrid Gustafson, I believe is her name—was at the sink when we came in. But there’s no way either one would have had time to run out and wallop Jonah—I would definitely have seen them leaving the pool area. Besides, he’d been in that water a few minutes at least before I arrived. He simply wasn’t breathing.” I shuddered and dabbed my eyes on my shirt again.
    “Who’s in charge of this conference?” he asked.
    “Dustin Fredericks. I’ll find him and bring him over.” I couldn’t wait to get away from the scene of Jonah’s accident. I snugged the sandals back on my feet and bolted before Officer Torrence could insist I remain in the area.
    I pushed through the crowds around the bar and the hors d’oeuvres tables and found Dustin at the far side of the grounds. He was talking with Julia Child’s longtime publicist, a man known for his spot-on imitations of his former client, and a food critic from the
Washington Post
. I grabbed Dustin’s wrist and tugged, ignoring his companions’ stares and his outrage.
    “Listen, you have to come with me,” I said quietly. “I’m Hayley Snow. With
Key Zest
. Someone’s fallen into the pool and hit his head.” How could he not have heard the sirens?
    Dustin shook me off. “Find security and have them handle this. I’ll get there shortly.”
    “It’s urgent,” I added. “It’s Jonah.”
    Shoulders tightening, he whistled out an irritated sigh. “Opening night of the biggest show in town, my career’s on the line, and that buffoon goes swimming?” Dustin turned to the two men he’d been chatting with. “Excuse me, please. Something’s come up.” He lumbered off ahead of me, grumbling. “He needs to get over it—put a Band-Aid on his boo-boo and get out here and do some patch-up work with our sponsors. He didn’t give a keynote address. He whacked our seminar like it was a cheap piñata. I should have known better than to tap him. When has he ever done what I asked him? He thinks he’s like one of those banks, too big to fail. We’ll see about that….”
    I followed him to the reflecting pool, which was now roped off, to the dismay of partygoers with pressing bladders who were being turned away from the restrooms. And others who wanted to rubberneck the emergency.
    “What’s going on here?” Dustin asked Office Torrence. “You’re ruining our party. Where the hell is Jonah?”
    “Mr. Barrows has been removed to the emergency room,” said Officer Torrence, raising his voice to match Dustin’s intensity. “And to your first question, as a precaution, we’re treating this area as a crime scene. Mr. Barrows may have been the victim of an attack.”
    Dustin jutted his chin toward me. “You