headed to Bradenton to the sheriff’s forensics lab. She was hoping to get some information on the stolen car found parked across the street from the Seafood Shack. It was so close to where the boat had been stolen, that it seemed reasonable to assume that whoever had taken the boat had also stolen the car. Jock and I went home and took Recess out on a completely unproductive fishing trip to a man-made reef near the north end of Anna Maria Island. The sea was flat, the sun warm, and the beer cold. Even without fish, it was a fine way to spend a November afternoon. J.D. called to report that the car had been wiped clean. No fingerprints or anything else that would be of any use to law enforcement. She declined my dinner invitation, saying she was tired and wanted to go home, fix something simple for dinner, sip a glass of wine, and get back into the David Hagberg novel she was reading. Jock and I called it a day. That evening he got a call from Gene Alexander telling him that the medical examiner had released Nell’s body and the funeral would be the next day, a short graveside service in a cemetery out near I-75.
