Chapter One
Coby Karola stood over his sink, cleaning a dinner plate, when he heard something strike the window near his kitchen table. The noise was sharp. Loud. Too loud to be a bird.
“What the heck was that?” he said aloud to no one, moving to the back door.
He cupped his hands around his face to peer out the window, but it was too dark to see.
He dried his hands on his pants and flipped the back porch light on. Nothing seemed amiss until his attention fell on the center of his unmowed lawn. Unnaturally bright specks of color sparsely scattered across an area about the size of a round picnic table—yellow, pink, purple…
Grumbling to himself, Coby opened the door. From the small landing, he saw the color blobs were equally round. Maybe a little oblong. Sort of like…
Eggs?
It was April...
Easter eggs?
Shaking his head, he walked out and bent to pick up one. It was plastic—the typical cheap, hollow plastic eggs people hid candy in this time of year.
Kids.
It was almost Easter. This stunt had to be kids thinking they were funny. This time of year, the residents’ grandkids visited Florida for spring break. Every spring was a nightmare of blaring speakers on golf carts wheeling around the neighborhood.
Coby shook the plastic egg and then cracked it open. There was nothing inside. He picked up another to find it empty as well.
He snorted. If someone was going to take the time to scatter eggs around his yard, at least they could throw in a chocolate or two.
In the hopes of finding something, he kept at it, twisting one egg after another.
Distracted by curiosity, he never heard the stranger running up behind him.
The one with the hammer.
But then, that was the point.
Chapter Two
Charlotte padded into the kitchen to start the morning coffee, her oversized sleep shirt tapping her knees as she walked.
It was still a little strange to wake up in Declan’s house.
She’d given up thinking she’d ever live anywhere but Pineapple Port, the fifty-five-plus community where she’d grown up, but here she was—a whole three miles away in her husband’s house.
She didn’t mind.
Marriage was pretty cool.
Who knew?
She had a new pattern at Declan’s house, and it felt more and more like home every day. They were both early risers. She left the bed at four and Declan generally followed sometime in the next hour.
Her soft-coated Wheaten Terrier, Abby, approached and sat, waiting to be taken for her morning walk. She was an early riser too, and she’d figured out the new house patterns even faster than her mommy.
To be fair, all her patterns revolved around treats, so things were pretty straightforward for her.
Charlotte suspected Abby liked it better at Declan’s house. Declan had a pool and a fenced back yard, and the terrier could romp whenever she wanted—no waiting for official walks. Charlotte was pretty fond of that new aspect of their lives as well—
Hold on.
Charlotte stopped as something flashed in her peripheral vision. She glanced at the back slider doors in time to see a shadow pass by the full-length shade. It was still dark outside but the back patio lights were on.
Something outside was moving.
Something big.
It didn’t look like a stray cat. It was bigger and more person-shaped. She knew Declan was in the bedroom, so that ruled him out.
She heard splashing and cocked her head.
Someone’s in Declan’s pool?
The splashing made her feel better. Thieves and killers didn’t usually take a quick swim before breaking into a house.
Goofball kids stealing a swim?
Probably. It was that time of year when grandkids came to Florida. People on vacation sometimes acted like vacation spots didn’t carry the same rules or consequences as those they had back home. That’s when they ended up with kids in the pool and golf carts planted in mailbox posts.
Abby heard the intruder splashing and offered her opinion in the form of a deep-chested boof—that pre-full-bark noise all dogs made before completely losing their minds. The dog jogged to the door and entered the lowered shade from the side to peek outside.
Abby’s bark alone would probably scare away the kids—but she didn’t bark. Instead, her little nub of tail wagged.
Charlotte stood behind her failing guard dog but couldn’t see anyone from her angle. Whoever was in the pool had stopped at the far end, out of sight, but she heard someone say, “Whoo! Cold!”
She left Abby and hustled to the bedroom to wake up her husband.
“Declan,” she hissed, shaking him.
He cracked one eye open.
“Hm?”
“There’s someone in the pool.”
“What?”
Declan sat up, alarmed but clearly still half asleep. It didn’t look like his mind would be joining them for another minute or so. The man slept like the dead.
Must be nice.
“There’s someone in our pool,” she repeated.
“In the pool? The cleaning guy?”
“It’s Friday. It’s not the cleaning guy. He was here yesterday,” she said, slipping into her robe.
Declan checked his watch and grunted. He stood and stretched. His eyes focused on her. It looked like his brain had caught up to the rest of him.
“There you are,” she said, giving him a quick kiss.
Abby barked twice, and Declan strode toward the living room in the sweat shorts he usually wore to bed without bothering to get dressed. Now, he was all business. Whoever was out there was lucky the man hadn’t had his coffee yet.
Charlotte followed. Declan grabbed a controller from the sofa table, opened the automatic curtains, and watched in stunned silence as someone stroked their way to the edge of their pool.
“Why would someone steal a swim at four in the morning?” asked Charlotte.
Declan switched on the back porch light as the swimmer grabbed the side and bobbed up for air. Noticing the lights and open blinds, he pulled the goggles over his bushy gray eyebrows and squinted at them from the water.
He waved.
“Is that Bob?” asked Declan.
“I think it is,” said Charlotte. “I should probably call Mariska and tell her her husband’s escaped.”
Declan glanced over his shoulder at her.
“This is what I was afraid of. Your crazy has followed you from Pineapple Port.”
She smirked and smacked his arm.
“You knew what you were signing up for. No takebacks.”
Declan had experienced plenty of Pineapple Port insanity during their dating years. She, on the other hand, had never known anything else. She was young when she moved into the retirement community to live with her grandmother after her mother died. When her grandmother also passed, the community let her stay, though she was far from the minimum fifty-five years old.
By the time she met Declan, she’d gotten so used to the crazy that she’d stopped noticing it—until she saw it through his eyes. Turns out, life was strange growing up as a retirement community’s young mascot.
Mariska and Bob the Morning Swimmer had served as her foster parents and lived across the street from her in Pineapple Port— though, apparently, Bob now lived in their pool.
Declan opened the slider, and Abby shot out, tail-wagging hello to the familiar man in the pool.
“Whatcha doin’, Bob?” asked Declan.
“I’m getting a quick swim in before we go,” said Bob, patting Abby while she licked the water off his arm.
Declan scowled. “Before we go?”
Charlotte put her knuckles against her lips.
Oh no.
She saw where this was heading.
I think I messed up.
“I’m coming with you to the charity swim in Tampa,” said Bob.
Charlotte nodded.
Yep, I messed up.
Declan turned to look at her. The whites of his eyes flashed, signaling either annoyance or panic. Probably both.
“Hey sweetheart, did you tell Bob I was going to a charity swim in Tampa today?” he asked in a sing-song voice.
His frozen smile answered her question.
Annoyed. Definitely annoyed.
She winced. “I might have mentioned it to Mariska.”
Her husband let out a slow, steady breath. She’d seen him do that move a few times before. One or more of the Pineapple Portians were usually nearby when it happened. Or, Declan’s Uncle Seamus—but a Seamus Sigh came with extra teeth gritting. He was the only thing crazier than the residents of Pineapple Port.
“I’m guessing you’d like to carpool there with me?” he asked Bob.
He’d given in fast. Like her, he’d figured out it was always easier to just accept the crazy was happening.
“That’d be great,” said Bob. “We should grab some breakfast here first.”
“Sure, the pool always comes with a complimentary breakfast.” Declan turned. “Maybe you could start on that, darling?”
She stuck her tongue out at him and moved to the kitchen to scoop extra coffee into the machine.
It was official—she’d been swept into the nuttery. She should have run away the second she saw it was Bob and not a killer taking a quick dip, pre-murder spree.
She turned on the stove and found a pan.
“Ask Bob what he wants—”
“Eggs!” called Bob, lowering his goggles back over his eyes. “And bacon. And toast. And orange juice!”
Declan nodded and left Abby outside to run around the pool, chasing Bob back and forth as he swam. He’d almost shut the door when Bob popped up again.
“Coffee!” he yelped.
Declan signaled he’d heard and turned to Charlotte.
“What have you done?” he asked.
She laughed. “I’m sorry. It never occurred to me he’d want to go with you. He hasn’t been into swimming for years.”
“I suspect it has more to do with the beach bunnies in Tampa than the swimming,” said Declan.
She snorted a laugh. “You said beach bunnies—you’ve been hanging out with the oldies too long.”
He smirked. “Well, whose fault is that? I’m just glad it wasn’t Seamus—”
“Top o’ the mornin’ to ye,” said Seamus as he burst through the front door.
Charlotte heard Declan release a sharp groan like someone had smacked him in the stomach.
“Seamus,” he breathed. “What is happening?”
“Coffee, Seamus?” asked Charlotte.
“Aye, I’d love a cup,” said Seamus, slamming the door shut behind him.
Declan pointed at the door.
“That door was locked. I’m sure of it.”
Seamus held up a key. “Still have mine.”
Declan gritted his teeth and started forward as if meaning to wrestle the key from his uncle.
“Why are you here?” he asked, grabbing at the key.
Seamus whipped away the prize and shoved it in his pocket.
“Gotta be faster than that, boyo,” he said, grinning as he skirted around his nephew.
Charlotte noticed Seamus wore a tee shirt and swim trunks.
No reason to ask why.
“Thought I’d get in a quick swim before we go,” said Seamus, heading for the back sliders.
“I don’t remember signing up to drive you both to Tampa,” said Declan, but Charlotte could already hear the defeat in his voice.
He knew there was no point in trying to wrestle the key from Seamus. Declan was bigger, younger, and stronger, but his imp of an uncle would swallow that key before he let his nephew best him.
“Drive us both?” echoed Seamus. “Are you going, Charlotte?”
“Not me,” she said.
Bob entered on cue. He let the dog in behind him and slammed the slider shut so hard it felt like the glass would shatter.
Declan winced.
“What is wrong with you people? Do you not know how to close doors without shaking the framing?”
Abby galloped over to say hello to Seamus.
Bob grinned. “Sorry, Dec. I don’t know my own strength. Hey there, Seamus.”
Seamus grinned. “Top o’ the mornin’—”
“Stop that,” said Declan through gritted teeth.
“What?” asked Seamus with wide-eyed innocence.
Charlotte snorted a laugh. Seamus had used the corny Irish phrase with his heaviest brogue as a joke the first time. Now that he knew it annoyed Declan, they’d hear it every five minutes.
Seamus was a genius at annoying people.
She shook her head at her frustrated husband.
Come on, Declan. You know better than to show your hand.
Declan glanced at her. His look said he knew he’d screwed up.
“I am Oirsh, boyo,” added Seamus.
“Not that Irish,” grumbled Declan. “No one is that Irish.”
Seamus winked at him and turned to Bob, who stood dripping a puddle onto the ceramic tile floor. His swim trunks were short and tight.
Too short. Too tight.
“Where’d you get those trunks? Gidget give them to you?” teased Seamus. “How’s the water out there?”
“Pretty chilly this early. These shorts fit better after that swim, if you know what I mean,” chuckled Bob.
“I’m really going to pretend I don’t,” muttered Charlotte. “Do you want eggs, too, Seamus? Bacon? Toast?”
“That’d be grand,” said Seamus.
Charlotte cracked a few more eggs into a pan.
Declan walked up beside her.
“Can I help?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I’m good. I know what I signed up for when I opened this diner.”
He chuckled and looked at his watch.
“I’ll have them out of your hair soon, and then you’ll have the place to yourself until tonight.”
Charlotte nodded. It was kind of exciting. She loved her new married life, but she’d spent most of her life alone. It would be nice to have a little me time.
“We’ll have a boys’ trip,” said Seamus, slapping his nephew on the back as he passed to the kitchen table.
“Boys’ trip,” echoed Bob, pulling out a chair to join Seamus.
Charlotte threw up a hand to stop him.
“Whoa. You need to towel off first, Bob. You’re dripping everywhere.”
“I’ll get him a towel,” said Declan.
As Declan wandered off, Charlotte craned to assess the puddle on the floor at Bob’s feet.
“Get two!” she called.
Declan returned a minute later with two beach towels. He handed one to Bob and dropped the other to the floor.
“What are you going to do today?” he asked Charlotte as he dried the floor with his foot on the towel.
Charlotte’s phone rang before she could answer. She saw it was Sheriff Frank’s number and answered.
“Got time for a murder?” asked Frank.
Charlotte put her hand over the phone and grinned at Declan.
“My day’s looking pretty good,” she said.
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