Pineapple Jailbird: A Pineapple Port Mystery: Book Eight - A funny, thrilling & cozy (ish) mystery (Pineapple Port Mysteries 8) by Amy Vansant

Author:Amy Vansant [Vansant, Amy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-03-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

Charlotte walked down the Riverwalk, her gaze sweeping in every direction, searching for the man who had called her.

Miles, more than likely.

And not only him, snakes, too.

The Riverwalk felt both secluded and urban, and with her heightened state of awareness, she wasn’t sure if she should feel isolated or safe. The walk had been built to flank a local river on one side and civilization on the other. On her right, a head-high wall blended into a grassy hillside ending with rows of small retirement homes. On her left, a barred fence that looked like the lower section of a misplaced jail cell door kept her from wandering down the muddy slope into the river. Above her, Alexander laurels and Madagascar olive trees provided a shady arched canopy.

Wouldn’t it be great if Miles Davis had decided to turn on Jamie’s nemesis?

Charlotte accepted she might not have her quarry captured today, but if Miles delivered on his promise to provide her with the mystery man’s identity, she’d be a giant step closer to satisfying Jamie’s demands. She wasn’t sure Jamie even knew her pursuer’s name. The woman went squirrelly every time she asked for more information, and her reticence to share didn’t make a lot of sense.

Why would you hire someone to find someone, and then do everything you could to make the job more difficult?

Lost in her thoughts, Charlotte almost didn’t notice the man hiding in the greenery flanking the path. He crouched there, just past the row of small square retirement homes watching over this portion of the Riverwalk.

Just past the part that had made her feel safe.

Charlotte stopped and stared at him.

He didn’t move.

Does he think he’s invisible?

“I can see you,” she said, loudly, though short of a shout. She glanced at the last home just behind her. Was anyone home there? Would they hear her if she screamed? Her chest tightened with nerves.

Somehow, her clandestine meeting with the man who’d tried to kill her with a python felt like an even worse idea upon spotting him squatting in the shrubbery.

Charlotte wasn’t sure what she’d expected. Should she have had high hopes for the mental stability and manners of a man who pushed man-eating snakes through women’s windows? For some reason, she’d pictured strolling the Riverwalk until she found herself talking to a clean-cut man in a nice white suit. Why, she had no idea. She’d watched Casablanca earlier in the week. That could have been it.

Now, faced with the reality of a man in torn jean shorts and a dirty t-shirt skulking in the bushes, she realized the chances of Miles looking like a modern day Rick Blaine had always been pretty slim.

And I didn’t bring my gun.

She hadn’t gotten used to the idea of carrying her gun, and her everyday uniform of shorts and a shirt didn’t make it easy to properly conceal a weapon.

This might have been one of those times where dressing for the gun would have been a good idea.

“You Charlotte?” asked the man.

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