Frogs, Floods, and Fraud by M K Scott

Author:M K Scott [Scott, M K]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Cozy, Mystery
Published: 2023-06-09T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

Tenny parked her bookmobile between the house and a grouping of oversized crepe myrtle where no one could complain about its presence since it would involve getting out of one’s vehicle and walking up her driveway to catch a glimpse. Anyone doing so would be guilty of trespassing. The less friendly sorts around Emerson had metal signs with a pair of crossed guns on them in their windows, announcing trespassers would be shot. It was all show given that kids would cut through yards, a neighbor’s cat might sun itself on numerous porch steps, and high school band members showed up as regular as the seasons, peddling oversized chocolate candy bars, with and without nuts. Making a fuss about someone in her yard would just be rude—just like a person complaining about her bookmobile. She walked backward, her hands tucked into her jeans back pockets, staring at her books-on-wheels vehicle, trying to gauge how visible it was.

Dallas waited in his idling pickup truck and powered the window down. “What are you doing?”

Noticing her neighbor, Belinda, she bypassed a shouted reply. Instead, she opened the passenger door and climbed inside. With the door closed and seatbelt secured, she twisted and gave her house a final glance. “The boxwood’s getting fairly out of control. Uncle Mark would have a fit if he were alive.”

“Need help trimming it?” His hand went up in acknowledgment to the various neighbors who gawked from their porches. A few unabashedly moved into their front yards for a better look at who was driving the truck. A more charitable view would lean toward the neighbors being protective of the orphaned Tenny. More likely, they wanted to be accurate in their gossip.

After spending years in the city, her wave response time suffered. Occasionally, city folks greeted one another with a single finger. Tenny shot her hand up at the last minute to a shaggy-haired toddler on a big wheel trike. “No. Just the opposite. I like the boxwood that way. It helps hide the bookmobile.”

“It will eventually scratch vehicles coming and going in your driveway.”

“There is that.” Why did he always point out the practical? She pursed her lips as she considered her options. “It’s okay right now. I’ll deal with it when it gets worse. As it is, no one can complain about my vehicle being an eyesore or my home not being zoned for a business.”

“What?” Dallas’ brow puckered and he mumbled something indecipherable.

“Couldn’t hear you.”

“That’s the way I wanted it.”

“Rude.”

“Yep,” Dallas agreed with a smile. “Besides, some things are best left unsaid in polite company.”

“I’ll give you that. Are you going to ask me what’s got me so concerned about hiding my bookmobile?” she teased with a sideways look, knowing full well he would.

“Go ahead. Shoot.”

“I got a call on my voice mail. Some woman trying to disguise her voice saying the bookmobile was an eyesore and my property wasn’t zoned for business.”

“Hmm…” Dallas murmured and stared straight ahead as he spoke. “If that were true, half the folks in Emerson would be in trouble.

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