Death Rides the Surf Read Online Free Page A

granddaughter hated the possibility of her grandmother being interested in any man other than Grandpa Charlie. Nick’s treating Katharine like a grown-up had been a smart move. Not that Kate was all that interested in Nick.
    And why did Marlene look so smug? Kate felt her cheeks redden.
    The drinks arrived and they sipped in silence. Kate had prepped Marlene, providing her with an opening line that would distract and intrigue Katharine, who shared her grandmother’s avid interest in crime and punishment. However, Marlene now nodding at a dapper seventy-something gentleman at the next table had missed her cue. Kate kicked her sister-in-law’s foot, none too gently. “You wanted to ask Nick about…”
    “Diamond Lil.” Marlene pulled her meticulously lined and shadowed eyes away from Mr. Almost Right—at least number five hundred in that category—and batted them at Nick. “Any leads on that jewel-bedecked old broad who robbed the Sun Trust Bank on Federal Highway and Kate’s and my branch on Neptune Boulevard last week?”
    Kate chimed in. “Mary Frances was depositing the Sunday collection from St. Paul’s when Diamond Lil—catchy name the Sun-Sentinel dubbed the thief, isn’t it?—pulled a gun in our bank and the teller, Mr. Porter, filled her knitting bag. Then the old lady grabbed Mary Frances’s duffel. Over two thousand in cash, plus the parishioners’ checks, which are probably useless.”
    Nick chuckled. “No. Not useless. Diamond Lil changed St. Paul’s to Sutton Place Antiques and cashed one in Fort Lauderdale. Waved a driver’s license at the antique dealer. The guy said he never suspected a nice old broad would be carrying fake ID. So Lil got to buy herself yet another bracelet for two hundred dollars.”
    Nick almost sounded as if he admired the bank robber.
    Katharine giggled. “Does Diamond Lil wear lots of bling?”
    The giggle warmed Kate’s heart. “Yes. From her dangling earrings to her ankle bracelet. Both her sunglasses and her tiara are trimmed with rhinestones. But she dresses like a bag lady: a shapeless cardigan, in all this heat, and a wrinkled housedress as ancient as I am.”
    “Don’t forget the torn sneakers.” Marlene motioned to a copper-colored, dark-haired waiter. “I love the fashion statement of a rhinestone ankle bracelet worn over sweat socks.”
    Their new waiter smiled. “Another round, guys?”
    “Hell, no.” Marlene handed him her empty glass. “This gal wants a double martini on the rocks.”
    The young man blushed. “Right away, ma’am.”
    “How many banks has this Diamond Lil hit?” Katharine asked.
    “Three in Palm Beach County, plus the two here in Palmetto Beach.” Nick growled, then yelled after the waiter. “Make that two double martinis.”
    Kate intercepted Katharine. “Don’t even think about it. You’re having a Diet Coke.”
     
    Mary Frances appeared at the table as dessert was being served. “Hi. I’m so glad to see you ladies. I had the most exhilarating morning.” Her red hair grazed her shoulders, her emerald green eyes danced in the sunlight, and her olive linen jumpsuit, deceptive in its simplicity, showed off her curves.
    Marlene groaned and coughed to cover the sound.
    Katharine grinned and asked, “Where were you, Miss Costello?”
    Nick stood and invited Mary Frances to join them.
    “Well just for a few minutes; I’m meeting my astrologist for lunch and a verbal tour of Venus.”
    “Can I come along for the ride?” Marlene asked.
    Nick laughed, then asked the waiter to bring a chair over from a nearby table with only three diners.
    Ignoring Marlene, Mary Frances sat in Nick’s empty chair.
    Kate, admittedly a little jealous, admired their unexpected guest’s creamy complexion. Could lifelong virginity be the solution for wrinkles?
    Mary Frances Costello, who’d won the Broward County Tango Championship for two years in a row, looked more like Maureen O’Hara in The Quiet Man than like a sixty-year-old