Death in the Sunshine (Retired Detectives Club, #1)

by Steph Broadribb

The back door flies open. It bangs against the wall, causing the glasses in the display cabinet beside the door to rattle. Moira flinches, and twists round towards the noise. ‘What the . . . ?’ A barrel-chested guy the size of a mountain strides into the kitchen. His white hair, deep tan and huge arms make him look like Popeye’s older, more muscular brother. When he speaks his voice is gravel deep, the accent Bostonian rather than Floridian. ‘I’ve called the troops to action. Meeting’s in half an hour.’ ‘Excellent,’ says Philip, gesturing towards her. ‘Moira here found the body, she’s going to talk us through what she saw.’ ‘Sounds good,’ says the man mountain. Pouring himself a mug of coffee, he moves across the kitchen to the space next to Moira at the island and leans his hip against the counter. Philip gestures towards the empty stool. ‘Take a seat.’ ‘I’m okay standing,’ says the big guy. He looks at Moira. ‘You go right ahead.’ Moira frowns. Who the hell is this guy? With him towering over her, the kitchen that had seemed so big and spacious moments ago now seems more like a hobbit house. ‘And you are?’ ‘I’m Rick, ma’am.’