Condos and Corpses

by Angela K Ryan

  Condos

  and Corpses

  Sapphire Beach Cozy Mystery Series

  (Book 1)

  Angela K. Ryan

  John Paul Publishing

  Tewksbury, Massachusetts

  Copyright © 2019 by Angela K. Ryan

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

  Angela K. Ryan

  John Paul Publishing

  Post Office Box 283

  Tewksbury, MA 01876

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Cover Design © 2019 MariahSinclair.com

  Book Layout © 2017 BookDesignTemplates.com

  Condos and Corpses/ Angela K. Ryan. -- 1st ed.

  ISBN 978-0-9981575-5-9

  A Note of Thanks from the Author

  I would like to warmly thank all those who generously shared their time and knowledge in the research of this book, especially:

  Jacki Strategos, Premier Sotheby’s

  International Realty, Marco Island

  Carol Buccieri

  Bella Stella Beads, Haverhill, Massachusetts

  Marco Island Fire Rescue

  Marco Island, Florida

  Any errors are my own.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Other Books in this Series

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  "Honey, are you sure you don't want me to stay longer to help you clean out the condo?" Josephine Petretta asked, as her daughter yanked her suitcase from the trunk and dropped it onto the sidewalk outside the JetBlue check-in area at Southwest Florida International Airport.

  "I'm positive, Mom," Connie said, giving her mother a grateful hug. "If we go through Auntie Concetta's belongings together, we'll get sidetracked at every photo and memory. I promise to save everything with sentimental value."

  Jo reluctantly pulled up the handle of her designer suitcase.

  "Connie's got this, Mom," Gianna insisted, pulling her own luggage from the trunk and gently embracing her older sister. "Let her do it. It would be too emotional for you, and besides, we have a business to get back to." Jo and Gianna owned a home staging company that they had already been away from for too long.

  Connie was grateful that her mom and sister had made the road trip down to Sapphire Beach, Florida, with her, especially since her father had to stay behind in Boston for work. Time passed more quickly during the twenty-four-hour drive with her mother and sister to talk to, even if she had to share the radio. And she needed her car to bring home any possessions the family might want to keep, especially her aunt's extensive scrapbook collection. It was a treasure the family valued now more than ever.

  The excursion had also provided a much-welcomed opportunity, now that the probate process was complete, to spend a few final days together in a place that meant so much. Jo’s sister, Concetta, who had been a retired actress before passing away six months prior from a brief battle with colon cancer, had lived in Sapphire Beach for the past fifteen years, and it held precious memories of countless vacations and holidays.

  It would also provide the perfect backdrop for Connie to give some thought to her future. She had treasured every minute of her time with Feeding the Hungry, the non-profit agency where she worked for the past eleven years. She had been an integral part of the small team since the beginning, when her boss and mentor, Sam O’Neil, founded the organization to bring aid to impoverished villages in developing countries. However, lately, since the organization had become more established, site visits were fewer and farther between and much of Connie's time was spent organizing fundraising events, coordinating volunteers, and managing the donor database - worthwhile work for sure, just not the best use of Connie's talents and interests.

  In addition, her best friend, Bethany, would soon be getting married and moving to Colorado with her new husband, where they had jobs lined up teaching skiing at one of the resorts. Beth had been itching for a change and with all the time they spent together, it was rubbing off on Connie.

  As her mother and sister passed through the large glass doors leading into the terminal, Connie gave them a heartfelt wave. Then she hopped back into her silver Jetta and onto Route 75 South, toward the town of Sapphire Beach and her deceased aunt's oceanfront condo. A condo that now belonged to Connie.

  Connie, Jo, and Gianna had been Concetta's only living relatives. She was divorced and never had children, but she always said she couldn't have loved Connie and Gianna any more if they were her own. She left her condo, with its stunning views of the Gulf of Mexico, to Connie, her namesake, while Jo and Gianna inherited her substantial investment portfolio. She also left a hefty sum to Feeding the Hungry. Jo liked to say that the only thing larger than Concetta's personality was her heart.

  Within twenty minutes of pulling off the highway, Connie was on Beach Boulevard. She rolled down the windows and allowed the clean, salty air to fill her lungs. Sapphire Beach had always been her happy place.

  The temperature was in the high sixties, typical for an early January morning in southwest Florida, and the sun beat down through the sunroof. She would definitely miss the warm Florida weather when she went back to Boston. She smiled, remembering all the times her aunt had called her in the middle of a blizzard just to say that she was walking the beach or sitting outside having lunch. "What are you doing, sweetie?" Concetta would ask in a teasing tone, knowing full well that Connie was most likely shoveling her car out from under a mountain of snow.

  About two miles down Sapphire Beach Boulevard, Connie turned into the entrance of Palm Paradise, the high rise where her aunt had lived. Coconut palm trees flanked the driveway leading to the white thirteen-story highrise where her aunt had found so much peace in the final years of her life. An array of flowers, including blue daze, bougainvillea, and graffiti rose decorated front of the building, beckoning guests and residents into the luxurious lobby. It filled Connie with warmth to know that her aunt had found such an amazing place to call home.

  She pulled up to the entrance of the underground garage, punched in the access code, and pulled her car into #33. Each unit had its own underground parking space, with a storage unit attached, and a second outdoor space in the front parking lot, next to the area where visitors parked.

  Not wanting to wait for the elevator, she climbed the stairs to the lobby and walked across the polished marble tile to the mailboxes. These days, all that was ever in her aunt's box was junk mail, but she was glad it was empty. One less thing to deal with today.

  As she waited for the elevator, under a gold starburst chandelier, her mind went to the day's tasks. Today she would clean the condo from top to bottom, so that she could get the realtor her mother had researched to come by as soon as possible. True to her Italian-American upbringing, Aunt Concetta's place was usually so clean you could eat off
the floors. However, since it had been empty for six months, it was in need of a thorough cleaning. Her aunt would roll over in her grave if Connie let anyone see her home looking less than pristine. So today she would focus on making the condo sparkle.

  Her thoughts were interrupted when a friendly voice called from behind. "Sweetie, hold that elevator a second while I grab my mail." It was Grace Jenkins, Concetta's floormate and close friend, carrying a few bags from Publix. A strand of gray hair fell across her tan face.

  Grace had moved to Sapphire Beach from Ohio after losing her husband in a car accident and had lived at Palm Paradise for almost as long as Concetta. With their zest for life and adventurous spirits, the two became fast friends, and Grace quickly became like another aunt to Connie and Gianna. She had been a godsend during Concetta's illness, staying with her day and night right up until the end.

  "Here, let me help you with those. My hands are empty," Connie said, taking a couple of the bags from Grace.

  "Thanks, honey." Grace's brown eyes teared up. "Truthfully, I didn't really need groceries today, but I wanted to keep busy. Some days are just harder than others. This morning I picked up the phone to call Concetta before I remembered she was no longer there. Can you imagine, even six months later?"

  Connie's throat grew tight. "Grace, there's no way we can thank you enough for being such an amazing friend to my aunt, especially in her final months."

  She put her hand up. "Honey, there is no other place I would have been. Concetta wanted to spend her final months at home, and I was happy to do everything I could to help make that happen."

  Just then, a gray-haired man with blue eyes burst into the main entrance of lobby. His black button-down shirt with a palm tree print was tucked into light gray shorts.

  He made a beeline for the small office just off the lobby, where Jessica, an employee of the condo's management company, kept office hours. When she saw him coming, she stood up and met him just outside the doorway. "What is wrong with you people?" he said loudly enough for Connie and Grace to hear. "The corridors should be vacuumed by now, and the trash receptacles in the garage are nearly overflowing. Please see to it that this is taken care of, pronto."

  Jessica's shoulders stiffened, and she forced herself to look him in the eye. "The cleaning crew is due here momentarily, Mr. O'Rourke. But I'll be sure to relay your complaints to the office. Again."

  "See to it that you do. And kindly inform your supervisor that if he can't handle this building, there are plenty of companies that can," he said, heading toward Connie and Grace at the elevator.

  Connie cast a sympathetic glance in the young woman's direction. She shook her head slightly and returned to the office, while the man joined Connie and Grace in the elevator.

  "Making friends again, Hank?" Grace said, rolling her eyes.

  "I don't care about making friends," he said. When he noticed Connie, he seemed to calm down a bit. "I take seriously my election to the condo association by the fine residents of Palm Paradise. Their negligence is a reflection on me, you know, and I won't stand for it."

  Grace pressed seven for her and Connie, followed by ten, presumably for Hank, who was now blatantly checking Connie out. The top two buttons of his palm tree shirt were undone, revealing a thick gold chain. She turned her head so that he wouldn't see her smirk. Or worse, misinterpret it for interest.

  "Well, who do we have here?" he said with a wink, self-importance oozing from his expression.

  Staring daggers at him, Grace put a protective arm around Connie's shoulder.

  "You better keep your dirty paws off her, Hank," Grace barked. "This is Concetta's niece, and she's only here to get her aunt's condo ready to sell." Her voice had risen a couple of octaves.

  Hank didn't take his hungry gaze off Connie. "Darling, I'm so sorry for your loss. Your aunt was a wonderful woman." Grace relaxed her arm as the elevator door opened on the seventh floor.

  "That's about the only thing we agree on," she said, ushering Connie out.

  "If you need a break," Hank said as the elevator door closed between them, "I'd be happy to take you on a cruise down the beach in my convertible."

  As soon as the doors closed Connie had to laugh. "Is that guy for real? I feel like I need a shower after that conversation!"

  But Grace wasn't laughing. She looked fit to be tied.

  They made their way down the hallway and stopped at Grace's door.

  "Don't worry about me, Grace. I can handle guys like that," Connie said, depositing Grace's grocery bags just inside her door.

  "I'm sure you can. You are Concetta's niece after all. Just be on guard when Hank O’Rourke’s around. He’s relentless with my daughter Stephanie."

  She thanked Grace for the warning and continued down the hallway to the next door. Taking a deep breath, Connie slowly unlocked the door to her aunt's - now her - condo.

  Chapter 2

  Connie entered the foyer, where she could see straight through the apartment to the crystal waters below. She still half-expected to see Concetta sprawled across the tufted baby-blue chaise lounge with mahogany legs, gazing out at the crystal-clear water seven stories below. Or sitting out on the balcony enjoying her morning coffee or an afternoon glass of Merlot.

  Luckily, sadness didn't have time to set in, because Ginger, her aunt's Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, named, of course, after Ginger Rogers, came bounding towards her, melting any sorrow.

  "Come here, girl," she said, lifting the chestnut-and-white dog, whose color made the name 'Ginger' all the more fitting, and petting her silky fur.

  Ginger's fluffy tail thumped against Connie's thigh, tickling her until she laughed. "You've been through a lot, too, haven't you?" The dog's big, expressive brown eyes seemed to answer in the affirmative.

  Grace had been keeping the dog temporarily, but since she usually went back to Ohio to visit her son and grandchildren several times a year, she didn't want to be tied down with the responsibility of a pet. This put finding a loving home for Ginger high on her to-do list for the week.

  Giving her one last squeeze, Connie put the dog down and psyched herself up for a day of cleaning. She grabbed some supplies and started in the master suite, off the main living space. Then she worked her way through the bright kitchen and into the combination living room and dining room.

  From there she scoured the foyer and, finally, the guest suite on the other side of the living room, which included a bedroom, bathroom, and laundry closet. Concetta had installed a Murphy bed in the guest room, which had allowed her to use it as a combination guest room and scrapbooking area. Every inch of the sixteen-hundred-square-foot condo overlooked the sapphire waters below, which seemed to stretch on forever.

  About 1:30, she gave the place the once-over and smiled. The high-gloss, beige-and-white porcelain-tiled floors sparkled, and not a trace of Ginger's fur could be found anywhere. Aunt Concetta would approve.

  After a cool shower, Connie poured a tall glass of seltzer water and heated up a slice of broccoli and cheddar quiche, which her mother had made and left in the fridge. Then she opened the large double sliders separating the living room from the balcony and brought her lunch outside. The fifteen hundred miles that separated Sapphire Beach from Boston seemed like a million.

  After lunch, she came inside to load her dish into the dishwasher, just in time to hear a knock at the door.

  "Grace?" she called, before opening. Guests were usually buzzed in through the intercom, so it had to be someone who lived in the building.

  "My name is Elyse Miller with Miller Realty," came a voice from the other side of the door. "Jo asked me to stop by."

  Connie opened the door to find a woman smiling warmly back at her. She looked to be about Connie's age, thirty-four, and had wavy brown hair that fell just below her shoulders. She wore a black sundress with a blue floral print and a matching blue short-sleeved sweater.

  "Hi, I'm Connie. Jo is my mother, but she went back to Boston early this morning. Please, com
e in."

  After receiving an enthusiastic greeting from Ginger and an iced tea from Connie, Elyse followed her into the living room.

  "I hope you don't mind my stopping by unannounced," Elyse said between sips, "but I thought I'd take a chance. I just finished a showing in the building."

  "Actually, your timing is perfect. I spent the day cleaning, and calling you was on my list of things to do." Connie took a long sip from her glass. All that cleaning had worked up a thirst.

  "My condolences on Concetta’s passing. My great-aunt Gertrude lives on the fifth floor, and the few times we were all together for Sunday dinner, I thoroughly enjoyed her company. She was so warm and welcoming."

  Connie smiled. "Thank you."

  "And not to mention beautiful," Elyse said, glancing at a framed family photo on the wall. "She always reminded me of Sophia Loren."

  Connie shared many of her aunt's features - her cocoa-colored hair, olive skin, and almond-shaped, dark eyes - but she didn't consider herself the glamorous type, like her aunt had been. However, there were some qualities that they did have in common. Jo often remarked how both her sister and her daughter fully embraced life and fearlessly chased their dreams. Concetta had bravely gone off to Hollywood as a young adult to pursue her acting dreams, while Connie sought adventure serving the poor in developing countries.

  Elyse pulled out a leather portfolio binder with a pad of white-lined paper and jotted down notes, while Connie gave her a tour of the apartment. When they returned to the living room, Elyse leaned back on the couch and gazed out at the ocean for a moment, before looking back at Connie. "I'm not usually one to turn away a listing, but have you considered living here? With no mortgage on the condo, you'd only have to worry about taxes and condo fees. They might be a little high, but still less than even a tiny mortgage."

  Connie let out a sigh. She had considered this option before and had to admit that the idea of living in paradise was appealing. Concetta had even remarked on several occasions that Connie should consider relocating, since she loved it so much in Sapphire Beach. But ever since she could remember, she had wanted to do something that mattered with her life. And her two years of full-time volunteering in Africa after college, where she witnessed the unrelenting poverty that is a daily reality for too many children throughout the world, had only deepened this desire. Even though she had been feeling restless lately, her work with Feeding the Hungry had brought her a sense of joy and purpose over the years. While it was true that, lately, she had been considering moving on to something new, still, it was likely that more doors would open in Boston, where her connections were. Even if she were to consider venturing out on her own and opening her own non-profit, she couldn’t do it alone, and her contacts were back home.