Half Crocked (Freaky Florida Mystery Adventures Book 8) by Margaret Lashley

Author:Margaret Lashley [Lashley, Margaret]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Zazzy Ideas, Inc.
Published: 2022-03-22T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Three

“Set you up?” Grayson asked, watching as I gracelessly floundered my way out of the tarp and up onto a boat seat. “Drex, I thought I was the one around here in charge of conspiracy theories.”

“Give me a break.” I scrutinized his face. “Admit it, Grayson. This whole gator-hunting trip was a set-up between you and Earl, wasn’t it?”

“What you talkin’ about, Cuz?” Earl asked, trying to look innocent.

“Grayson, you’re just pretending to be after some ancient alligator monster, aren’t you?” I whipped around to face Earl. “And you! A professional gator guide? Get real! This was all a ruse just to get the three of us back together, wasn’t it?”

Grayson’s chin inched closer to his neck. “I wouldn’t call it a ruse, per-se. It was more like an ... opportunity. And in all fairness, Earl really did train to become a gator hunter.”

Earl beamed. “I almost finished the whole course, too!”

“Almost,” I spat. “What a surprise. Earl, the only thing you ever finished in your life was becoming a complete nincompoop!”

“Tone it down,” Grayson said.

“Nincompoop is toning it down,” I said. “Excuse me, but who just got called a gassy old hag?”

Grayson rubbed his chin. “I don’t recall anyone using the term, ‘hag’.”

My molars pressed together with enough pressure to bite through a knife blade. “Look. If I wasn’t stuck on this boat with you guys, I’d march right out of here and never look back.”

“Gee, Bobbie,” Earl said, cutting the throttle. “Me and Mr. G. didn’t mean no harm by it. Honest. What’s the matter? Don’t you wanna be a private investigator no more?”

My eyes narrowed. “If it means being humiliated by you two every chance you get, then no!”

Grayson shot me a skeptical look. “I compliment you on figuring out our plan, Drex. But your attitude hasn’t exactly made things a cakewalk for us, either. As your mentor, I suggest we discuss this further in private, when we get back to the RV.”

“Fine,” I said. “Perfect.”

But it wasn’t perfect. Far from it. As I turned and stared silently out at the river, a hard, dry lump grew ever larger at the base of my throat.

Something had to give. And from where I sat, I felt I’d already given enough.

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