Page 3 of Wild Oblivion

I lifted a curious brow. “That’s a long stay.”

She smiled. “I guess they were enjoying the weather.”

“What can you tell me about them?”

She thought for a second, then shrugged. “I see them around. They don’t say much. Both have thick accents. They speak to each other mostly in German.” Then she muttered aside, “They’re not rude, just not overly friendly. All business.” After a pause, she asked in a delicate voice, “Which one died?”

“I’m not sure. Can you describe them both?”

She did.

“Sounds like Rudolph Weiss is the deceased.”

“What happened?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”

I gave her my card and told her to get in touch if she remembered anything else.

We left the desk and strolled across the opulent lobby. JD and I passed the lounge and the bar and walked the long hallway out to the pool.

As usual, leggy beauties occupied lounge chairs, their skin slick with oil. Piña coladas, oversized sunglasses, wide-brimmed hats, and taut fabric made a compelling argument for checking into the Seven Seas for a stay-cation.

JD and I made our way around the pool, pushed through the gate, and ambled down the secluded path to the cabanas.

I banged on the door to the Coconut Cabana.

The sound of the TV inside filtered down the foyer. Footsteps shuffled close, and the peephole flickered. A thick German voice barked, "What do you want?"

I flashed my badge and said, "Coconut County. We need to talk to you about your traveling companion."

The man inside unhooked the chain, flipped the deadbolt, and pulled open the door. His intense blue eyes flicked between the two of us. He looked to be in his early 40s and reasonably fit. He had a hard look about him with thin lips and a serious expression. His brown hair receded slightly and was just starting to thin on top. He wore it slicked back with pomade. Slacks, a brown tweed jacket, a blue Oxfordshirt, and a tie completed his ensemble. Not exactly fun-in-the-sun Florida attire.

"I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but your friend is deceased.”

His eyes rounded. "Deceased?"

I nodded.

His jaw tightened, and his eyes darted about as he tried to make sense of it all. "How did this happen?"

"He was shot in an alley behind a liquor store about an hour ago.”

"By whom?"

I told him and gave him a brief description of the assailant.

He considered it.

"Do you have any idea who the assailant might be?” I asked.

"No.”

"I need to confirm the identity of the deceased. He didn't have a wallet, driver’s license, or passport. You’re Klaus, right?”

He nodded.

I pulled out my phone. "This may be unpleasant to look at.”