Deadly Pumpkin Slice (A Sinful Sweets Cozy Mystery) (13 page)

I excused myself, and meandered out onto the veranda and over to the fountain,  a small replica of the
Trevi fountain, lit from behind the cascading water with ever-changing lights, casting a magical glow on everyone who passed, charmed and soothed by the interplay of sound and light when I saw it. A body. Floating face down, hands strapped behind his back with masking tape, the water in the pool red, and something terribly
wrong
with the feet. I assume I screamed, as moments later I was surrounded by guests, a babble of voices, waiters exchanging grim glances—and no Ryan. Two glasses, drained, sat on a waist-high stone ledge that separated the patio from five stories of city air above the streets of SoHo. And on the flagged floor I now saw the sword, bloody. A 17
th
century replica sword.

“
Don't touch anything,” boomed a commanding voice. “Nothing. Everyone remain right where you are, please.”

That had been fast
—a quick glance told me that hotel security stood at all the doors to the reception salon, as well as several near the street side of the patio.

I had been backing away, following the contours of the fountain toward the ivy-covered wall against which it stood. My high heel caught something, tripping me, and the next thing I knew I was sprawled over the blood-covered body of Ryan.

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