The Hound of the Sanibel Sunset Detective by Ron Base

was also Tree Callister’s second wife.

9
    K elly produced one of her glittering smiles as he approached the bar. Kelly specialized in those smiles, her stock in trade back in the day: the smile, the charm, Kelly lighting up every room she entered, her audience immediately in the palm of her hand.
    As a broadcaster, you could debate her merits, but as a charmer, Kelly Fleming had no equal. That’s what had brought Tree down. He stood no chance against her full court press. However, as soon as the conquest was final, Tree swearing for once to be a good husband or at least a better husband, the thrill of victory soon faded. Kelly grew bored and was off in search of other rooms to light up. Tree was left in darkness; single again.
    She looked great in a white skirt and fuchsia-colored knit top, he thought as he embraced her. Face a little rounder, figure slightly fuller, but Kelly still; the hair, the makeup, the jewelry, the familiar scent of Guerlain—everything pretty much unchanged.
    “How have you been, Tree?” Kelly said, embracing him warmly, as if he were her best friend in the world. But then everyone was Kelly’s best friend in the world.
    Until you weren’t.
    “I’m fine, Kelly. How about you?”
    “Didn’t you hear?”
    “Hear what?”
    “I’ve been downsized, of course,” she said brightly. Personal adversity had to be promptly admitted to, accompanied by assurance that the essential Kelly was unbowed.
    “They had me anchoring news at four. Ratings were great, everyone was happy—I knew I was doomed. Sure enough. Out on the street. Age, I assume. But what can you do, Tree? It’s television. It’s not if they cancel you, it’s when they cancel you. What about you? Rex tells me you’ve upset everybody on Sanibel Island with this private detective business.”
    “I’m retired.” Tree said it like an announcement.
    Kelly looked surprised. “Retired? How can you retire?”
    “People keep shooting him,” Rex said. Until now, he had been silent, although that was hardly an unusual state for the men in Kelly’s life. When Kelly was present, she held court, all eyes focused on her.
    Still, Tree thought Rex uncharacteristically tense; but then it wasn’t every day you showed up with your best friend’s ex-wife. Maybe that had something to do with it.
    “When you were a reporter in Chicago, I marveled that more people didn’t shoot you, Tree,” Kelly said with a grin. “Could be your past is finally catching up to you.”
    “In more ways than one,” Tree couldn’t help but note.
    Kelly arched her eyebrows, the only indication that she had caught the irony. Freddie chose that moment to make her entrance, also no shrinking violet in the perfection department, Tree mused as he went to greet her. If there was ever a day Tree wanted Freddie to look wonderful, this was it. She did not disappoint. What’s more, she could easily match Kelly’s smile dazzle for dazzle.
    “I’ve heard so much about you,” Kelly said when they were introduced.
    “Isn’t that funny?” Freddie said. “I’ve heard almost nothing about you, Kelly. Tree doesn’t talk much about his ex-wives.”
    “There are so many of them, he hardly knows where to begin,” Kelly said.
    Tree caught Roberto the bartender’s eye and ordered Freddie a glass of chardonnay. Rex was watching him as though not certain what to make of all this. What was he expecting? Tree throwing punches? Not tonight, he decided, handing Freddie her wine. “What about you, Kelly? Would you like something?”
    “No, I think I’m fine, thanks, Tree,” Kelly said. “I didn’t get in from Chicago until late this afternoon after we sat on the runway for an hour. So I’m kind of beat.” She looked at Rex. “What do you say, Rex? Are you ready to get out of here?”
    “Yes,” Rex said quickly. His relief was almost palpable. He wanted this encounter, but then seemingly did not want it at all.
    Tree put his hand on his friend’s arm and said,