Found: A Matt Royal Mystery Read Online Free

that car.”

CHAPTER SIX
    Ann Kuehnel was in her late seventies, tall and what one might call “stately.” Her skin was lightly tanned and her face smooth, so smooth that J.D. suspected the hand of a skilled surgeon had molded it. Her upswept hair was a reddish-blonde, her dress expensive, her necklace diamond, her voice cultured. She stood in the doorway of a condo unit that cost several million dollars.
    “Mrs. Kuehnel? I’m Detective J.D. Duncan.”
    “Please come in, Detective. This has been a terrible day.”
    J.D. was led into a large and exquisitely decorated room overlooking the Gulf of Mexico. A middle-aged woman was standing in the center of the room. “Detective Duncan,” said Mrs. Kuehnel, “this is my neighbor, Cheryl Loeffler.”
    “Don’t mind me, Detective,” the woman said. “I was just leaving.”
    “Thanks for sticking around, Cheryl. I’ll call you later,” said Ann.
    “Before you go, Ms. Loeffler,” J.D. said, “can you tell me if you saw the shooting?”
    “No, thank goodness, but I think I heard it.”
    “What did you hear?”
    “Just a pop. I didn’t think anything about it. Figured it was a car out on the road. When I heard sirens and saw the police cars pull into our lot, I came out to see what was going on and saw Ann talking to the police. We came back up here to wait for you.”
    “Thank you, Ms. Loeffler,” said J.D., handing her a business card. “If you think of anything else, please call me.”
    “Certainly,” said Cheryl. “Ann, call me if you need anything. I’ll let myself out.”
    “Please, have a seat, Detective,” said Mrs. Kuehnel. “Can I get you some iced tea or a glass of wine?”
    “No, thank you. I’d like to ask you some questions about the shooting you saw.”
    “Of course. Ken Goodlow was a friend. I’ll do anything I can to help.”
    “I understand he was visiting you.”
    “Yes.”
    “Have you known Mr. Goodlow long?”
    “A few years.”
    “I don’t mean to pry,” said J.D., “but I have to ask you about your relationship.”
    “Oh, dear. There was no relationship. Not in the way you’re implying.”
    J.D. smiled. “I didn’t mean to imply anything, Mrs. Kuehnel.”
    “Well, then, I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions. Ken was very much involved in the Cortez Historical Society. I met him some years ago because of my interest in local history.”
    “Do you know his family?”
    “I don’t think he had any. His wife died years ago and they never had any children. I think all his other relatives died out a long time ago.”
    “What about his friends?”
    “I only know the ones involved with the historical society.”
    “What was your interest in Cortez?”
    “My husband, God rest his soul, died ten years ago and left me more money than I’ll ever be able to spend. I have a number of charitable causes and one of them is the Cortez Historical Society. Ken Goodlow was the president. He’d lived his whole life in the village, except for some time out for military service during World War II.”
    “So you give them money?”
    “Yes. Not a lot, because they don’t require much. I just do what I can to support their efforts to maintain the memories of a way of life that has just about disappeared from Florida.”
    “You mean the fishing?” asked J.D.
    “Yes. The commercial fishing has pretty much died out. The net ban that took effect some years ago just about killed a whole way of life. Cortezmay be the last village in the state that maintains itself with fishing. And the number of fishermen is declining every year. The old people are dying out and the young ones don’t want anything to do with fishing for a living. Soon, Cortez will be just a dim memory. We need to make sure that memory survives.”
    “Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt Mr. Goodlow?”
    Ann sighed and her eyes welled with tears. She wiped them away and said, “No. He was a sweet and harmless old man.”
    “Tell me what you saw,” J.D.