Beach Town Trouble (A Port Grace Cozy Mystery Book 2) by Emily Page Page A

to attention.
    “Cupcake, treat,” she said.
    She and Cupcake took off at full speed, and Georgia heard Ryan laughing behind them. When Ryan caught up, Georgia settled into an easier pace, Cupcake trotting alongside them with his eyes fixed on Georgia.
    “So, Camila really burned up Tim Sr.?” said Ryan.
    “It was terrible,” said Georgia. “I never want to smell anything like that again.”
    She launched into a more detailed story of the day’s events as they jogged. By the end, they were halfway back to the place Georgia had parked her car, and she was noticeably out of breath.
    “So, Crimbleton says we were right all along,” said Georgia, slowing to a walk, “and Peak thinks they’ll have a confession by the end of the day. So…woohoo, I guess.”
    “It’s not sitting right with you, is it?” said Ryan.
    Georgia sighed. “No. I’m just not convinced that she can be calculated enough to steal the body and burn it to destroy evidence and then turn around and let it slip that he left her a threatening message the day before he died. It doesn’t make sense.”
    “Also, how did an eighty-year-old woman who can’t weigh more than one hundred pounds move the dead body of a man who weighed at least three times more than her?”
    “She’s a witch, duh, Ryan,” said Georgia, looking at him with a straight face.
    He stared at her for a second and then threw his dirty-blond head back in a belly laugh. Georgia laughed with him, and Cupcake jumped up on them both, desperate to get in on the good time.
    “You’re right, though,” said Georgia once Ryan had wiped the tears from his eyes. “First, she would have to be stealthy enough to sneak into the morgue. Then, she would have to at least move his body onto something with wheels. She would have to put it in her car, then drive to the woods and build a pyre, and then get the body through the woods and onto the pyre. She would snap like a twig.”
    “And even if she was somehow strong enough to get all that done, it would have taken some serious time and effort, and she doesn’t exactly blend in. Somebody would have taken notice.”
    “Speaking of taking notice,” said Georgia, “there’s another thing that’s been bugging me. Rutherford said a motorist called in the fire and said they saw an old woman dancing around it. Now, the first part I believe; you could see the smoke from the fire from miles away. But you couldn’t see the actual fire from the road. We had to walk into the woods to a picnic area to see the actual fire and Camila. So how did the tipster see her doing her weird dance from the road?”
    “Hmm,” said Ryan, a hand to his chin, “that is weird. But could we really have gotten it so wrong? I mean, she had so much motive, and it wouldn’t take much strength to push him off the cliff. And, I mean, she burned the body for goodness sake—right out in the open. Something is definitely off with her.”
    “I’m not saying we were wrong,” said Georgia. “I’m thinking maybe we missed something. I think maybe she had a partner. Maybe pushing Tim Sr. off the cliff wasn’t done in the heat of the moment. Maybe she and a partner planned it.”
    “Who are you thinking? The son?”
    “Tim Sr. was yelling at Camila for talking to his son in that voicemail.”
    “The son has no real motive, though,” said Ryan. “And he doesn’t seem too fond of his aunt. It seems unlikely he would be working with her.”
    “You’re right,” said Georgia, disappointed. “We need to dig into her life and find out who she was close to.”
    They had made it to Georgia’s car. Georgia took Cupcake to the doggie water fountain next to the foot-washing hose and shower at the edge of the beach and the parking lot.
    “You know, I think you’re right about a partner,” said Ryan, “but it sounds like there is also someone working against Camila.”
    “What do you mean?” said Georgia, handing Ryan the leash so she could rinse the sand off her