Murder in White Sands by Marla Bradeen

Author:Marla Bradeen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: chick lit mysteries, humorous women's fiction, stand alone novels, humorous mysteries, Florida murder mysteries, small town whodunit, cozy chick lit mystery
Publisher: Marla Bradeen
Published: 2015-07-28T00:00:00+00:00

FOURTEEN

I couldn’t shake Heather’s admission from my head, and the information haunted me throughout dinner preparations. Although I had wanted to inquire about her insulin habits, I couldn’t risk her figuring out my underlying motive and telling Yvette. Even if she didn’t yet know about the insulin pen found under Ralph’s body, the news was bound to make the rounds soon enough.

In my preoccupied state, I’d overfilled more than one salt and pepper shaker, ending up with a serving tray that looked like a miniature version of the beach outside the door.

Kate raised her eyebrows when she caught sight of my mess. “What’s with you?”

I tipped the tray upside down over the garbage can, sending white and black granules raining into the bin. “Guess what I learned this afternoon.”

“That sensitivity missions are the work of the devil, and spreading bad will and depression leads to true happiness?” Kate quipped.

I couldn’t concentrate enough to return the repartee. “Ms. Heather is diabetic.”

Kate blinked, evidently not expecting a serious topic to kick off our first substantial discussion of the day. “She is?”

“Yes.” I tossed my tray aside and sagged against the counter. “Unfortunately, that doesn’t answer the question of whether she uses insulin pens.”

“That should be easy enough to find out,” Kate said.

“You think so?” I cocked my head, wondering what she had in mind. “It’s not like I can ask her.”

“Then look in her room.”

I snorted. “Oh, yeah. That will go over well. Can you picture Yvette’s reaction if she caught me breaking into one of the residents’ units? Besides, I don’t know the first thing about picking a lock.”

“I said look in, not break in,” Kate corrected, rolling her eyes. “Get Ms. Heather to invite you inside.”

“And hope she turns her back long enough for me to snoop through her belongings?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s unlikely.” Kate pursed her lips. “You know, even if Ms. Heather uses insulin pens, that doesn’t prove she’s guilty.”

“Her access alone makes her a suspect. And don’t you think it’s odd for her not to say a word if someone stole the pen from her unit?”

“Maybe she didn’t notice. They could have taken her backup pen.”

“Maybe.”

Kate regarded me. “Do you think Ms. Heather did it?”

“I don’t know what to think,” I admitted, a heavy sensation settling in my chest.

“Ms. Heather just seems too fragile to kill somebody,” Kate said. “She’s so skinny, and she has to use that walker to get around.”

“That’s true, but I can’t picture any of the other residents murdering someone either,” I said. “And it’s not like she has to be qualified to enter an Ironman competition to kill a person with an injection of insulin.”

“But all she wears is pink.”

“So?”

“People capable of murder don’t swathe themselves in pink,” Kate said.

I absorbed her assumption. I had to admit, a pink blob stabbing someone with a needle would certainly risk garnering more attention than someone dressed in more crime-appropriate attire.

“Does Ms. Heather have motive?” Kate asked.

I shrugged. “As much as all the other brokenhearted women.

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