No Place for Marriage (Murder in the Keys—Book #4)

CHAPTER ONE

When Bella finally pushed open the sliding glass doors and stepped out onto the deck of Tyron’s gorgeous beach house, it was hard to breathe. A fog had rolled in from the ocean and the air had grown stultifying all over Naples. As she did so many other evenings, she had to check when Tyron wanted his dinner. Working as an aide for Tyron for so many years had its up and downs—fortunately, things had at least remained stable. But change was happening. In the past few months Tyron had definitely been going downhill, though no one in the family dared to say a word about it.

It was later than usual and Bella hadn’t seen Tyron’s stunning twenty-nine-year-old wife, Megan, all day. Megan was probably still upstairs in her quarters or out shopping, spending Tyron’s fortune as fast as she possibly could. God forbid Megan should take a tray out to him.

Now it was past Tyron’s dinner time, and Bella felt uneasy. Usually he rang the bell, or called for her to bring his dinner out onto the back patio. He loved eating there, sitting in his wheelchair, overlooking the ocean and sand.

But today he hadn’t called.

He probably fell asleep on the deck, thought Bella.

But Bella was surprised, as she’d walked outside, that Tyron hadn’t said anything to her. Usually he greeted her with some comment or other.

She looked around for him and to her total amazement, the wheelchair was there, near the top of the stairs. But it was empty! What was going on?

Shocked, Bella spun around, her eyes frantically darting. It made no sense. Tyron was bound to his wheelchair; there was no way he could have gotten out of it by himself. Was it possible he could have somehow fallen out of it and, using his arms, crawled over to a far corner that she couldn’t see in the fog?

“Tyron,” Bella yelled into the thick air. “Where are you? Answer me!”

A heavy silence greeted her.

“Tyron, where are you?” Bella’s voice rose excitedly, as she flew around the edge of the patio, looking for him.

Suddenly, Bella stopped racing.

She glanced down onto the beach and froze.

A horrible sight met her eyes. Tyron was sprawled out on the sand, face down.

“Tyron!” Bella screamed, racing down the wooden steps to where he lay. “Tyron, answer me!”

Immediately, she felt for a pulse. It wasn’t there.

“Tyron, Tyron.” Bella pounded his chest and shook his inert body. No response.

She put her mouth on his to breathe life back into him.

Nothing. He was cold.

Bella took a step back and stared unbelievingly. Tyron’s scratched face was covered with sand. How did this happen? How long had he been here?

Bella knew she had to call the police immediately. But what would she say? She was the one here with him all day and the one who’d found him.

Bella’s thoughts flew in a thousand directions. Was this a horrible accident? Had Tyron fallen out of his wheelchair and down the steps?

Or had someone pushed him?

Bella trembled uncontrollably as she stayed beside him on the sand. Tyron was her responsibility and he’d ended up dead. She was terrified to imagine who did it and what would happen next.

There was no choice, she realized, but to climb the stairs back up to the patio.

It was time to call for help.