A Crabby Killer Read Online Free Page B

sides. “Any one of us would have to be out of our mind to kill someone and put them in the crab kettle. That’s gonna put a real dampener on the festival and we all depend on the money.”
    “That’s right,” Lula Delgatto added. “The killer has to be an outsider.”
    “Not to mention that the crab kettle is a pretty dumb place to hide a body,” Gus Weimar said. “Ain’t none of us that dumb.”
    “Yeah, that’s right,” the crowd chorused.
    “Sure. It wouldn’t be an islander. We’re smarter than that” Norma said quietly. “Unless whoever put it there wanted it to be found.”

----
    D om noticed Claire shooting strange looks in his direction while they waited for the mainland police to show up. Or maybe his guilty conscience imagined it. He probably should have mentioned that he recognized the dead guy, but he didn’t want to tie the man to Sarah.
    But the way Claire was looking at him made him wonder if she had already made the connection. Then again, it could just be her zeal for investigating kicking in. Maybe she was sizing him up, trying to figure out his intentions. Perhaps she planned to help her nephew investigate the murder. It would be just like her to try to ‘one-up’ him and reveal the identity of the killer before he did.
    Before he did? The thought made Dom realize that his subconscious had already been busy deciding that he was going to do his own investigation. He couldn’t help it—investigating murder was in his blood. And the last investigation had made him feel so alive—it was the only thing that had made him feel that way since Sophia’s death.
    A large crowd had gathered by the time the police boat pulled up on the dock. Dom’s stomach soured when he recognized the tall detective as the same one who had investigated the previous murder—Detective Frank Zambuco.
    It wasn’t that there was anything wrong with Zambuco. He was a good detective, in Dom’s opinion, but he didn’t like other people getting in on his investigation. Dom couldn’t really fault him for that. After all, he’d been the same way when he was officially investigating. Still, it would be a lot more fun if they’d send someone more willing to listen to Dom’s expert opinion, even if Dom was ‘retired’ now.
    He watched Zambuco step off the boat, catching the toe of his size thirteen shoes on the edge of the dock and stumbling, then righting himself and spinning around toward the crowd. He whirled toward them, barking instructions to the three underlings he’d brought with him. Dom could almost feel the energy pouring off Zambuco, who seemed to possess an excess of it, especially for a guy who looked to be pushing sixty.
    Zambuco looked at Robby. “What have we got?”
    Robby nodded toward the kettle. “The festival committee found him when they did their inspection.
    Zambuco walked to the edge of the grass and peered into the kettle. He snapped his sausage-like fingers in the direction of his underlings, who sprang into action taking out cameras and yellow folded plastic cards with numbers on them. He turned back to Robby. “Festival committee?”
    Robby nodded in the direction of Dom, Claire, Tom, Norma, Jane and Mae.
    Zambuco’s narrowed eyes darted between Dom and Claire. “You two, again?”
    Dom shrugged. “We like to keep active.”
    “Let’s just make sure you don’t keep active by butting in on my investigation.” Zambuco gave them a warning glare then turned his attention back to Robby. “So who is the vic?”
    “I wish I knew.” Robby turned to the committee. “Do any of you recognize him?”
    “No,” they all said at once.
    “Well, first thing we need to do is figure out how he died, and when. Then we gotta figure out who he is. Then maybe it will be clear who killed him.” Zambuco snapped his head around to one of the docks where another boat was pulling up. “Oh, good. There’s the medical examiner now. We can get this investigation rolling.”
    “Ahem.”