Death in the Sunshine (Retired Detectives Club, #1)(9)

‘Excellent,’ says Philip, gesturing towards her. ‘Moira here found the body, she’s going to talk us through what she saw.’

‘Sounds good,’ says the man mountain. Pouring himself a mug of coffee, he moves across the kitchen to the space next to Moira at the island and leans his hip against the counter.

Philip gestures towards the empty stool. ‘Take a seat.’

‘I’m okay standing,’ says the big guy. He looks at Moira. ‘You go right ahead.’

Moira frowns. Who the hell is this guy? With him towering over her, the kitchen that had seemed so big and spacious moments ago now seems more like a hobbit house. ‘And you are?’

‘I’m Rick, ma’am.’ Putting his coffee down, he stretches out his hand in greeting. ‘Rick Denver.’

Moira shakes his hand. It’s at least double the size of hers. He’s got a firm grip and a cool, dry palm. ‘I’m Moira.’

‘Great accent,’ Rick says, grinning. ‘I guess you’re another transplant from England like these guys?’

He says the word England as if it has three syllables – En-ger-land. And his smile makes him look less imposing, more goofy, but Moira isn’t prepared to drop her guard. ‘I am.’

‘You live here?’ He holds her eye contact.

She gives a curt nod. ‘Moved in last month.’

‘Cool.’ Rick glances from Moira to the others. ‘So the crime scene, what did you see?’

Moira hesitates. She didn’t like the idea of telling Lizzie and Philip, and now there’s this Rick guy she’s even less keen.

‘Go ahead,’ says Philip, nodding encouragingly. ‘Rick’s ex-DEA. He’s law enforcement, just like me and Lizzie.’

Like me too, thinks Moira, but she says nothing because, shit, this is all she needs – yet another person from law enforcement.

‘It’s okay,’ says Philip. ‘Continue. You’re perfectly safe with us.’

Biting back the urge to tell him she’s been a cop herself and doesn’t need his patronising assurances, Moira looks at Rick instead. ‘That true about you being ex-DEA?’

‘Sure is. Did forty-one years. Real long-timer.’

Moira stares at him. She has to be guarded to protect herself. It’s easy enough, having almost become a habit after years of working undercover, where it’s a force of necessity to make the right moves and stay alive. But she also needs to fit in and not arouse suspicion, so she takes a breath and forces a smile. ‘Well, like I said, there were some things out of place at the pool that didn’t make sense.’

Lizzie stops rotating the bottom of her mug against the counter. ‘How?’

‘Well, when I spoke to the detective he seemed to be working on the idea it was a mugging, but that seemed odd to me.’ Moira tries to inject more doubt into her voice, as if she’s talking about something she’s not an expert in. ‘I mean, if it was a mugging, why did the killer leave all the money and the—’

‘Wait.’ Philip puts his hand out to stop her. ‘What money? How much? Where—?’

‘Tell us from the beginning,’ Rick says, cutting over Philip. ‘Describe how you found the scene.’

‘Okay.’ There’s something solid and honest-looking about this new guy, Rick. He seems interested, but he’s not pushy like Philip. It makes her feel more inclined to talk. Moira closes her eyes and concentrates on the memory. ‘So I let myself into the pool through the latch gate. It was closed when I arrived, it always is at that time, so I opened it and walked towards the lap pool. The floodlights are motion-activated. As soon as they switched on I saw her. She was floating, on her back, and although I couldn’t yet see her face I knew she was dead.’ Moira opens her eyes. Looks at Rick. ‘It was strange that I could tell, even from that distance. I guess it’s something about how still she was?’

Rick’s expression is serious. ‘Yep. Could be.’

Philip leans closer across the countertop. ‘What did you do next?’

‘I hurried to the pool’s edge. The woman was floating in the middle. She was young, twenties at most, and had long black hair that had fanned out around her head in the water. She was wearing a yellow dress and as I got closer I could see there was blood on her chest and over the top of the dress.’

‘Did you recognise her?’ Lizzie says.

Moira shakes her head. ‘No.’

‘And the money?’ Philip asks.

‘It was in the pool with her. Floating on the surface, like an oil slick made of dollars. There must have been thousands of bills.’

Lizzie clasps her hands together. ‘If it was a mugging, it makes no sense that the killer would leave all the money in the pool.’

Moira meets her gaze. ‘Exactly. Unless they weren’t after the money.’

Rick frowns. ‘You saw something else?’

‘There was a black bag on the bottom of the pool.’

‘Like a handbag?’ Lizzie asks.

Moira shakes her head. ‘I couldn’t see it properly because of all the dollars on the surface, but it was a rucksack, I think. It was just sitting on the bottom which struck me as weird – there must have been something really heavy inside.’