“I could use the help,” Sheriff Landon admitted. “If Bertie didn't do it, I don't have a clue who did. Like you said, so far we don't even know how the drugs got into Herb's system in the first place. But if you can't find me another suspect before Archie Gras wraps up, I'm going to have to charge Bertie with Herb's murder.”

  “Teri and I are on the case. The sooner we find out who murdered Herb the sooner we get the dreadful Doyletts out of my B&B.”

  “And keep Bertie from going to jail,” I added.

  “Yes, yes, that too.”

  “Let me know if you find out anything,” Sheriff Landon said, putting on her hat and heading for the door. “Sorry for the late night, Sam.”

  I accompanied the sheriff to the front door, but when we reached it she stopped abruptly and put her hand on my shoulder. “I don't know if your Aunt Sam told you this, but my nephew Thaddeus is staying with me and my husband Ralph for a while,” she said. “My sister and her husband are going through a rough patch right now and they thought it would be best if Thad visited us for a few weeks while they work things out.”

  “Oh, I'm sorry to hear about that,” I said. “I hope you're nephew is doing all right.”

  “Well, he's been a little depressed about his parents having problems, and being away from home and everything, but Ralph and I are trying to keep him busy. I was thinking it might be nice for him to get into some social activities. Something where he could make new friends, take his mind off the troubles at home, something... like the children's talent contest, for example.”

  Of course. This was the perfect end to a perfect day. The cherry on top of the compost sundae.

  “So, here's the thing,” Sheriff Landon continued, “Thad plays the flugelhorn. He's a real prodigy too, according to my sister. He's even composed some of his own music and it's very good.... I guess. I've got a tin ear when it comes to these things, but since you're the one that discovered Justin Bieber, I'm sure you know good music when you hear it!”

  “Actually, I-”

  “It would really be great if Thad could win the contest. It might be just the thing he needs to boost his morale and pull him out of this funk he's in. Of course, I'm not telling you who to choose, but if Thad did happen to win, I might just be able to scare you up a couple of tickets to the Annual Law Enforcement Karaoke Night over on Golden Happiness Isle. It's a very exclusive event. Not just anyone can get in, you know.”

  “That sounds awesome!” I lied. “I'll see what I can do.”

  “You rock, girl!” Sheriff Landon said, slapping me on the shoulder. “Remember to give me a call if you and your aunt turn up anything.”

  I waved goodbye to the sheriff as her car pulled out of the driveway. Bundt cakes, stuffed toys and now the police were trying to bribe me. The talent contest situation was escalating faster than the murder plot.

  When I got back to my RV, I saw that the light was on. Inside I found Nick asleep on the sofa with a half eaten swordfish steak on a plate on his lap. His arm was curled around Dr. Brad's bonsai tree which had somehow managed to find it's way back into my RV. The TV was on, showing an infomercial for a mobile popcorn machine that could be used in your car while driving. I was about to turn it off when I heard that they were offering two mobile popcorn machines for the price of one with only $7.95 additional shipping. That sounded like a pretty nifty deal to me. I could use one in my car and give one to Nick for Christmas. Of course, I don't have a car and Nick drives a motorcycle, but a logic attack has never stopped me from signing up for five easy payments in the middle of the night before.

  As I was reaching for my phone Nick stirred and yawned. “What are you doing here?” he asked groggily.

  “I live here. What's you're excuse?”

  “You know,” Nick said, sitting up and stretching, “for a woman who works in the hospitality industry, you're not very hospitable.”

  “I'm more of a people person before midnight. What's the bonsai tree doing in here?”

  “I don't know. It was on the sofa when I came in.”

  “But who brought it in?”

  “Beats me. I questioned it aggressively, but it wouldn't talk. I'm more curious about where you've been all this time.”

  “Oh yeah, I was at the hospital.”

  “Why were you at the hospital? Are you all right?”

  “I'm fine,” I said, “but Herb Doylett is dead. He was murdered.”

  “Okay... now, if it was me, I would have led the news with that story, instead of talking about the bonsai tree,” Nick said. “Care to fill me in on a few unimportant details like say, who murdered Herb and how?”

  “Well, we don't actually know who murdered Herb, but according to Dr. Brad he was poisoned.”

  “Poisoned! How? It wasn't the food, was it?” Nick asked, looking at the remains of the swordfish on his plate.

  “Nobody knows how he was poisoned, but I doubt it was the food. Everybody ate it and only Herb got sick.”

  “That's a relief. I'll cross 'get my stomach pumped' off my to-do list. Which brings me to my next question: Why am I just learning about this now? ”

  “That's a good question. Didn't you hear the sirens?”

  “Not that I recall; a grill-master zones in on the food and doesn't let outside sounds interfere with his concentration. Besides, I kind of assumed that if something big happened, someone might stick their head out of the back door and say, 'Oh hey Nick, Herb just got murdered. We're off to the hospital. Catch you in a few,' or something like that.”

  “My apologies. Next time there's a murder in the dining room, I'll make sure you're the first to know. I'll even send you a selfie with the body.”

  “This is no time for sarcasm, Teri,” Nick said. “We have more important matter to deal with. I'll move in with you right away.”

  “Come again?”

  “Well, obviously you can't stay here alone if there's a killer on the loose. Of course, my offer to move into the lighthouse still stands, but you'll have to bring your own sheets.”

  “You don't have sheets?” I asked.

  “Oh, I have sheets but if they're in the washer I can't use them. And I don't always remember to put them in the dryer.”

  “Did you ever think of buying another set of sheets?”

  “Can't see why I would do that when the sheets I have are in good shape. Anyhow, you can decide what you want to do, but for tonight I'll just stay here.”

  “I don't think anyone is going to try to murder me and besides, I'm so dead on my feet right now that if I was murdered it would probably be an improvement.”

  Nick yawned loudly and said, “I don't know if I'm in any condition to drive. I wouldn't want to get picked up by the police.”

  “I think the Sheriff's Department has more important things on its hands right now than to arrest someone for driving under the influence of swordfish.”

  “Okay, but if I get killed by Herb's murderer on the way home it'll be your fault.”

  “Well, if someone jumps out of the bushes and tries to feed you something poisonous, just say no. I'm sure your mother gave you the 'strangers with candy' talk when you were a kid.”

  “You're a cold-hearted woman, Teri McAfee,” Nick said as he headed to the door.

  “Fatigue will do that to you,” I replied.

  I woke up the next morning to sunlight streaming through the windows of the RV. After a few dazed moments trying to recognize my surroundings, I realized I was lying on my sofa with Dr. Brad's bonsai tree resting on my stomach. Apparently I hadn't made it to the bed last night. I sat up gingerly, setting the bonsai tree on the cushion next to me. The clock on the microwave indicated that it was 9:07 AM. I stumbled to the shower. I had a murder to investigate and I was hoping a face full of hot water might wake me up a little.

  Fifteen minutes later, I was out of the shower and scrutinizing my wardrobe. I wasn't sure how I should dress for questioning suspects in a murder case. Should I wear a business suit and heels, straighten my curly hair and pull it into a severe bun so I would seem official? I didn't have a business suit and my hair would never stay straight in all this humidity so I scratched that idea. Maybe jeans and a black tee shirt would make me look intimidating and get the killer to spill the beans. Somehow it was hard to imagine myself looking intimidating in any outfit.

  In the end I settled on a pair of white shorts, a coral colored Henley tee shirt with white trim and some flowered slip-on sneakers. I grabbed the bonsai tree and headed to the front door of the B&B. I sat the bonsai on a table in the living room in front of a window. I couldn't remember if it need sunlight or shade, but whichever it was, Dr. Brad's precious bonsai tree would have to take care of itself for a while because I had more important things on my plate.

  I tried to open the door to the kitchen but it wouldn't budge. Something seemed to be blocking it on the other side. “Dodie!” I called. “Are you in there?”

  “Who is it?”

  “It's Teri.”

  “Teri who?”

  Not this again. “It's Teri McAfee who can't bake bundt cakes. Now open up.”

  I heard what I guessed to be a chair sliding away from the door and a second later I was greeted by Dodie, who was brandishing a meat cleaver and wearing a tee shirt that read: “Whatever Doesn't Kill Me Had Better Start Running”. Apparently Dodie had started the day with a bit of attitude.

  “I'm sorry, Teri,” Dodie said, lowering the meat cleaver. “I thought it was that horrible creature comin' back to the scene of the crime.”

  “You were afraid that whoever murdered Herb was going to come after you?”

  “Of course not! No, I was hoping the jerk who did this would come back, so I could give him what for!” Dodie pointed a trail of jars and canned goods on the floor leading from the pantry to the back door of the kitchen. Apparently Rory had struck again.

  “He must have snuck in while I was outside in the garden getting' some tomatoes.”

  “Let me help you clear up this mess,” I said.

  “No thanks, it's better if I do somethin' physical to work off my inner serial killer feelin's.”

  “Good idea. I think Aunt Sam would appreciate it if we could keep the body count to single digits.”

  Since Rory was apparently nearby, I decided to hunt him down. That was probably as good a place to start the investigation as any. Now where would a fat man go to chow down and stay relatively cool at the same time? I headed for the swimming pool.

  Sure enough, I found Rory sitting next to the pool with his feet in the water. He was wearing a faded tee shirt and boxer shorts and was eating Spam out of the can with a plastic spoon. Empty tins of sardines, bags of bean sprouts and packages of oyster crackers were scattered around him, along with a big bottle of V8.

  “Hey there,” Rory said as I approached. “Just having a little snack to tide me over 'til breakfast. I'd offer you some but I only got the one spoon.”

  “Thanks, but I'm not hungry,” I replied, meaning it. Watching Rory plow through the cans like a runaway trash compactor wasn't exactly appetizing. “I thought you might be afraid to eat any food from the bed and breakfast after what happened to your brother-in-law.”

  “Well, there ain't no way a person can get poison into an unopened can,” Rory said as he took a swig of V8, “so I'm okay.”

  “I'm sorry about Herb,” I said, settling into a nearby deck chair. “I guess you two must have been pretty close, with you being married to his sister and working in the family business.”

  “Yeah, Herb and I got along pretty good. Of course, things were a little complicated what with him being my boss and all.”

  “Herb was your boss?”

  “Well, officially we're all equals in the business, but Herb was the manager, so he pretty much ran things. Bertie manages the front desk and shoe rental, Fern handles the snack bar, Augie does the accounting, Stella is director of advertising, whatever that means, and I'm in charge of maintenance, which makes me the low man on the totem pole.”

  “How was Herb to work with?”

  “He was a decent boss for the most part, but he was a bit of a nit-picker. 'Hey Rory, when are you gonna fix the pin setting machine on lane three?' 'Hey Rory, you haven't oiled the lanes in two days' 'Hey Rory, the ball return on lane eight is on fire. Get off your fat butt and do something about it!', stuff like that. But when he was off the clock and got a couple drinks in him, he was a fun guy. We got on like a house on fire.”

  “Do you have any thoughts on who would want to kill him?” I asked.

  “Well, Bertie of course. Nothing personal against her, but it's always the wife in these situations. It was a crime of passion.”

  “A crime of passion? Bertie and Herb?”

  “Okay, maybe passion ain't exactly the right word for it, but you get the idea. People usually murder for love or money.”

  I thought about that for a moment. “Not seeing any connection to the love thing,” I said. “What have you got for money?”

  “Well, take Augie,” Rory said between bites of pickled Brussels sprouts. “He always resented the hell out of Herb; he thought he should be in charge, seeing that he's the oldest brother and has that fancy accounting degree. But Herb was the golden child and Augie was just the son from their father's first marriage, so Herb got the majority share in the business and Fern and Augie had to split the rest. I don't know the exact details because I'm not 'family',” he said, making air quotes with his greasy fingers, “but Augie resented the situation, and he and Herb were always fighting about money. Hell, they had a real wing-ding the day before we came down here. I was fixing something or other outside Herb's office and I could hear them going at it. I didn't catch all of what they were saying, but I guess Herb was moving money around without telling Augie first, and Augie as fit to be tied over it. I heard Herb say 'Well if you're so damn smart, why don't you run things?” and then Augie says 'Maybe I will!' and then I had to turn on the drill and didn't hear the rest.”

  “But if Augie did murder Herb, why would he use his own prescription medication to do it? Wouldn't that make him an obvious suspect?”

  Rory shrugged. “I don't see anybody arresting him.”

  He had a point. Maybe I had better talk to Augie next. “Do you know where Augie is?” I asked.

  “He's over on the beach trying not to get murdered.”

  “Huh?”

  “See for yourself. A picture is worth a thousand words.”

  Finding Augie wasn't hard. It was still early in the day and the beach wasn't crowded yet. Also Augie was the only one dressed in a business suit and sitting on the sand with a large bucket of fries in his lap. A small army of seagulls was swarming around him as he frantically waved his arms and cursed at them. This was going to be interesting.

  “Um... hello?” I called as I approached the strange scene.

  “Stay back!” Augie snapped. “Keep out of the circle!”

  “The circle?”

  “My protection circle, of course!” Augie pointed to a ring of french fries he had tossed on the sand around him. “I'm not going to sit in my room and wait to get murdered next! I've read 'And Then There Were None'! I know how these things go! So I came out to the beach where I can see in every direction, and put a circle of french fries around me to attract sea gulls, and if any one disturbs the sea gulls I'll know that the murderer is trying to sneak up on me. It's like the canary in the coal- dammit!

  Two sea gulls swooped down and attacked the bucket in Augie's lap while he thrashed wildly at them. Augie screamed hysterically, whirling his arms like a windmill. After a few seconds of chaos, he succeeded in driving them away, but not before one of the seagulls had deposited a bright white dropping on the sleeve of his suit.

  “What's the matter with them?” Augie sputtered. “They're supposed to eat the fries on the ground, not the ones in the bucket! Why can't they get it through their empty heads?! Have you ever seen anything so stupid in your life?”

  “No, this is definitely the stupidest thing I've ever seen,” I said. “I was hoping to talk with you. Could we just step away from the sea gulls for a few minutes, Mr. Doylett?”

  “Absolutely not! For all I know, you could be in cahoots with the murderer! This could all be a ploy to lure me behind a sand dune so I could be brutally poisoned! Well, that's not happening!”

  “I just wanted to ask you a couple of questions about Herb.”

  “What about him? He's dead.”

  “Well yes, that's kind of the point. I was just talking with Rory about Herb's murder, and he mentioned that you and Herb had been fighting a lot lately.”

  Augie kicked at a sea gull as it lunged at his bucket. “Good old Rory!” he said. “I suppose he told you that he and Herb were the best of pals. Well, don't believe it! Herb would have fired that slug years ago, but Fern wouldn't let him! If I had two cents for every time Herb bawled Rory out for not doing his job, I'd have enough money to retire and forget about the bowling alleys. I never fought with Herb at all; I only cautioned him at times about making business decisions without consulting Fern and me first, like he was supposed to. All a salesman had to do was buy Herb a drink and he signed on the dotted line. That's no way to run a railroad! Or a bowling alley, for that matter. ”

  “Rory also said that you think you should be running the family business.”

  “So what if I do? It makes perfect sense. I'm the one with the business degree, and I also seem to be the only one in this family who can do math above the third grade level. I should have been running things from the get go, but nooooo, dear old dad decided to lavish his do-over son with yet another expensive gift he didn't deserve! 51% of the business went to that drunken sot, and Fern and I only got 24.5% each. Of course, the will stipulated that Herb was supposed to consult with us before making any major financial decisions, but with him holding 51% and us a combined 49%, we weren't business partners, we were passengers on a runaway train!”

  “I guess things will be a lot easier for you now that Herb is out of the picture,” I said.

  “Look, I know that your scheming sheriff wants to point the finger at me because Herb was supposedly killed with my medication, but anyone could have stolen my pills! Anyone like, say, the other 24.5% shareholder who would complain to anyone who would listen about the state of the business!”