Read Murder By Lime: A Key West Culinary Cozy - Book 4 for Free Online Page A

trouble already, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you,” a tear rolled down her cheek.
    “Well, honey, we have to think of something, and if the police are busy chasing after you and Drew when the real killer is right in front of our noses, we’ll have to do some checking around,” she insisted. “Did they arrest Drew too?”
    Tiara shook her head. “No, since they found Pedro’s number, along with drugs, in my apartment, I’m the one who’s under suspicion.”
    “That just makes me so angry,” Marilyn slapped the steering wheel with both hands. “Maybe since they’re leaving Drew alone, I’ll draft him to help me do some snooping around. Do you know when he gets his new boat?”
    “No, I haven’t heard much from him since this all happened, and I’m really not comfortable with you poking into things, Mom. You could get hurt.”
    “I cannot sit around and do nothing while my only daughter gets framed,” she replied stubbornly. “If the incompetent fools over at KWPD can’t get their act together, I’ll take matters into my own hands.”
    **
    Marilyn pulled on her yoga capris and a workout top that was snug enough to stay in place when she bent over or turned upside down for her poses. She hadn’t been to Yoga on the Beach for quite a while, but figured it would provide her with the perfect opening to speak with Drew and enlist his help in her sleuthing efforts. She tossed her oversized mat, water bottle and head band into her beach bag and snuck out of the house, being careful not to wake Tiara, who was sleeping in the guest room. She had wanted to go back to her apartment, but Marilyn had insisted that she stay in the guest room until the ridiculous charges against her had either been disproven or dropped.
    Locking the door securely behind her, she saw Tim Eckels, her worrisome neighbor, dashing from the end of her driveway toward his cottage.
    “Hey neighbor!” she called out, determined to see what he was up to. Tim halted in his tracks and stood stock still, as though wondering what his next move should be. Marilyn went to the end of her driveway and put her hands on her hips. “What brings you out at this hour?” she said conversationally, from about twenty feet away.
    The sweat-soaked man turned slowly to face her. “I’m…I was…I jog,” he said, not quite meeting her gaze.
    “You jog in jeans and a polo? That’s rather unorthodox,” she observed, hoping to push him into saying something significant.
    “It’s so I don’t chafe. Not everyone has a fit figure like you,” he glared, his comment making Marilyn’s skin crawl.
    “Well, it’s great that you’re out here trying,” she said awkwardly. “Have a nice day,” she waved, turning and walking rapidly away. Tim muttered something behind her back that was unintelligible and she pretended that she hadn’t heard.
    **
    Thankful for the headband that kept the sweat from trickling into her eyes, Marilyn remembered why it had been so long since she’d been to Yoga on the Beach. Her joints crackled and popped with every movement, her muscles refused to elongate into proper stretches the way that they used to, and she was about to drown in the early morning humidity. Her clothing clung to her in a way that had to be most unbecoming, and the ends of her ponytail stuck stubbornly to the back of her neck, but she was determined to make it through the class so that she could talk to Drew afterwards. He’d been avoiding her eyes for the most part, and despite her hellishly improper form, he’d only been by to give her correction once, and moved away immediately after she’d adjusted her pose.
    When she finally said “Namaste,” signaling the end of her morning torture, Marilyn made a beeline for Drew, who, as usual was surrounded by a bevy of groupies. She waited patiently, hovering on the outside of the group, until at last, she was the only one left. Following the fit and boyishly handsome yogi