The Case of the Florida Hurricane Disaster
Hear this story read aloud.
A Swampy Florida Morning
It was one of those swampy Florida mornings where even your sweat needs a fan. I was sitting at my regular booth in the back corner of my favorite Greasy Spoon, the only place in town where the eggs are rubbery, the coffee is strong enough to melt grout, and the service comes with a side of sarcasm.
Betty was off for the day, so I was taking a well-earned break from slab sleuthing and doing what I do best — flirting with Flo, my favorite waitress. She had that look like she’d seen it all and wasn’t impressed by any of it, especially not me.
“I’ll take the usual,” I said, grinning.
“Yeah? So would your cholesterol,” she shot back, setting down a plate that looked like it came straight outta a cardiac surgeon’s nightmares.
The Call That Changed Breakfast
Just as I was about to fire back with a line about how bacon cures everything, my flip phone buzzed. Not a text — a real, honest-to-goodness call. I gave Flo a wink and answered.
“Stone Detective,” I said, like I always do.
The voice on the other end was nervous.
“Hi, I’m sorry to bother you, but I’ve got red stains all over my brand-new marble countertops. It happened during the hurricane when the power went out. I lit a bunch of red candles and now, well, I think I ruined it.”
The Admiral Weighs In
Before I could respond, the Admiral — retired Navy, white hair, pressed shirt, and always planted at the counter with a black coffee — swiveled on his stool.
“Candles? That reminds me of a red hydraulic stain we got on a carrier deck back in ‘68. Looked like cherry pie exploded on the flight line. Took a week to clean, and two petty officers passed out from the fumes.”
I gave him a nod. “I’ll add that to my files, Admiral.”
He raised his mug in a salute and turned back to his toast.
Off to the Scene
“I’ll be right there,” I told the caller, tossed a tip on the table, and slid into the driver’s seat of my old Woodie wagon. She started up with her usual wheeze — like a 90-year-old getting out of bed — and off we went.
When I pulled up to the house, it was clear the hurricane had left its calling card:
- Shingles in the yard
- A tree limb wrapped around the mailbox
- One very distressed homeowner pacing on her porch
A Valentine’s Day Massacre — in Marble
She ushered me inside and led me straight to the kitchen. The marble countertop was beautiful — until you saw the red waxy blotches scattered like a crime scene at a Valentine’s Day massacre.
“I don’t know what I was thinking,” she said, wringing her hands. “The power was out for three days, and I just wanted some light and something comforting. I didn’t realize it would stain like this.”
The Solution: A Poultice
I gave her a reassuring nod. “You’re not the first to make this mistake. Candles and marble don’t get along — especially not colored wax. But your countertop isn’t ruined. Not yet.”
She looked up, wide-eyed. “Really?”
“Yep. All you need is a poultice.”
From my field kit, I pulled out:
- Dr. Fred’s Non-Staining Poultice Powder
- Solvent
“You mix this stuff into a paste — like peanut butter. Spread it over the stain, cover it with plastic wrap, tape down the edges, and let it sit overnight. The powder will pull the stain out as it dries. Might take a couple rounds, but it’ll get there.”
I demonstrated on the largest blotch. She watched like I was performing surgery on a puppy.
“You’re a miracle worker,” she said.
“Nah,” I replied. “Just a guy with a fedora, a beat-up car, and too much experience with weird stains.”
Closing the Case
I left her with detailed instructions and a few extra poultice packs just in case. As I pulled away, I thought about the Admiral back at the diner and his carrier deck story. I made a mental note to ask him how cherry Kool-Aid ended up on a Navy warship.
The Florida sun was setting low, painting the sky in pinks and oranges. I tipped my fedora forward, glanced in the rearview mirror, and muttered:
“Another case cleaned up.”
In this business, the storms never stop coming. But as long as there are stains to chase and slabs to save, the Stone Detective rolls on.
