Killer Listing by Vicki Doudera

guy on some millionaire matching site, and that they’d had a few dates. Another time, she said she was clearing out the bad things in her life—the negative energy, as she put it—and making room for something new and positive.” Helen swatted at a bee that buzzed too close to her cropped gray hair. “I think she finally met someone who cared about her, not just her beauty queen looks.” She looked down at her hands. “And I think I know what she meant about negative energy.”
    Darby waited for Helen to explain. The scent of the citrus trees floated like a light perfume on the ever-thickening air.
    “Mitzi told me last week that Kyle asked Jack for a divorce. He was heartbroken, apparently, even though they’ve been separated for two years.” She sighed. “I love that boy, always have, but I can see why Kyle Cameron wanted to move on. Talk about your negative energy. That Jack is like a storm cloud on a clear blue day.” She gave a guilty glance toward Darby. “I can’t believe I just said that. He’s my godson, for goodness sakes.” She took a gulp of coffee. “Who knows what was going on in Kyle Cameron’s life? It’s hard to know what anyone is really going through.” She looked down at her watch and rose slowly to her feet. “I have to go into the office for a bit, and then I thought I’d stop and see Mitzi. You’re welcome to stay here or come with me.”
    “Actually, I’m going to throw on my sneakers and go for a quick run before it heats up much more.”
    “Now is the time,” Helen agreed. “If you wait too much longer it will be dangerously humid.”
    She reached out and gave Darby’s shoulder a squeeze. “Help yourself to anything you need. How about if you come to my office at noon and we’ll go out for lunch?”
    “Perfect.” Darby said goodbye to the older woman and went to her little room for her sneakers. She smoothed some sun block on her nose and cheeks and grabbed a baseball cap and a little can of pepper spray which she shoved in a pocket. Moments later, she was out the door and running.
    _____
    Her sleek black ponytail swinging in the sun, Darby Farr pounded down the streets of Helen’s neighborhood. She ran for about a mile, past stately homes lining some of Serenidad Key’s oldest streets, before turning around and heading back. A turn toward the water took her by a small park, where young mothers were out pushing strollers, and several artists stood at easels, painting the Gulf. Darby glanced at her watch. She’d been running for a half-hour, and although she was not tired, the heat was beginning to get to her. She turned and headed back toward Helen’s house.
    After rounding the corner of the park’s perimeter, she was back in the tree-lined commercial district, running past a set of swanky designer clothing shops and expensive-looking boutiques. She’d passed a children’s clothing store just opening for business when the rank odor of burning debris assailed her nostrils. Slowing and turning toward an empty lot where the odor seemed to originate, she ran smack into the solid form of Detective Jonas Briggs.
    “Why Ms. Farr,” he said, smiling. “How nice to see you.”
    Darby wiped the sweat off her brow and nodded. “Likewise, Detective Briggs.” She gestured at the blackened debris. “What’s going on? Smells like a fire.”
    “Correct. The building behind me burned to the ground last night. It was a fancy restaurant called Belle Haven. You ever hear of it?”
    “No. But I’m not a local.”
    “That’s right. I kicked myself after I left Miss Near’s property this morning, because I realized how impolite I’d been. I didn’t even ask you where you’re from.”
    “Don’t worry about it, Detective Briggs. You were investigating a murder, and I’d say that takes precedence over small talk.”
    “Still, that’s no excuse for bad manners. My mother would be appalled.”
    “Then we won’t tell her.” Darby glanced at the smoldering remnants