Murder At Bcon (excerpt)
I decided to take a late night/early morning stroll to see if I could kick some of my hangover so I could start drinking again with the roofers, dump the rest of Mulligan's books and get the fuck out of town. I'd already lost $1.75 on the slots. There were a few people standing near the pool. Even though one of the guys had long, thick, blond hair tied back, I could recognize that state trooper hat about a mile away. I switched into silent approach mode, usually used for sneaking into places I ain't supposed to be.
I think they put blue dye in the pool to make it look better. But now it had a pink tinge, reminding me of the color of the Caribbean right after the sharks took to the bodies of the pirates we had just blown away (Murder in the Caymans). This time the blood appeared to be coming from a body floating upside down. I noticed that someone from an infamous detective discussion group was trying to nose in, no doubt to raise her fucking profile in the newsgroup as fast as her stubby ass could go. I was in the process of slinking away so as to not interfere with my soon to come morning coffee, when I swore I heard my name. Now that's not out of the ordinary but this time, the person wasn't busting his lungs.
"I'm sure the Inspector told me Bruno was to be here. Find him now."
As some of you know, I'm always anxious to help the authorities so I stepped forward, no curiosity involved.
"I'm Bruno. There probably aren't too many others here except ones that have already changed their names."
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