Sunny Side Up (Lake Erie Mysteries Book 1) by Maureen K. Howard

Author:Maureen K. Howard [Howard, Maureen K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Silver Phoenix Publishing
Published: 2014-11-25T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

It was my phone ringing. It must have fallen out of my pocketbook in the parking lot about three yards from where we were hiding. I didn’t even think about what I was doing as I sprinted out into the open to snatch it then scurry back to our hiding place. “Hamm! Hamm! Where are you? I need to talk to you! Something really bad is going on. I know I promised, but we wanted to help and…”

“Please hold for the next available agent. Your call is important to us…”

“What? Who is this? What do you want?”

I didn’t have time to figure out how the ringtone I had programmed for my husband was now heralding telemarketers. There were a lot of strange things happening, but I needed to focus on the most imminent danger—the stranger in the warehouse. It was time to focus and take action.

I pressed the end call button with more force than necessary. “We can’t take the bike. He’ll see us for sure. We need another way to get back to the ferry without being spotted. There’s a kayak rental place down by the shore and it’s out of sight from the building and where the goon’s golf cart is parked. My chiropractor keeps telling me I should try kayaking as a physical activity. Maybe now’s a good time to start.”

“Really? Does he expect you to kayak three times a week all year? We live in Ohio, remember? Don’t you think running or joining a gym might be a better option?”

“We don’t have time to discuss the pros and cons of kayaking at the moment. Let’s just go rent one and use it to get back to the ferry dock and then back to the mainland. I think we need to get to a safe place and then tell the authorities what we’ve seen here. Hurry, June.”

June didn’t need to be told twice. She took off, her cute, army-boot-styled running shoes kept her sure on her feet as we sprinted across the sand. My fashionable nautical flip-flops matched my outfit perfectly but were not holding up quite as well in the running department. June reached the brightly painted rental kiosk well before me and was stretching her hamstrings when I caught up with her, panting and trying to shake the sand out of my sandals. I approached the rental window, wallet in hand, ready to get on with our plan.

“Hello! Is anybody here? Hello! We need to rent a kayak!” There was no one to be seen anywhere near the rental station.

“Not again! Francie, you better pull a rabbit out of that magic bag of yours. And quick.”

When it comes to improvising, I am nothing if not resourceful. I dug a page of a play script out of my bag and retrieved a tube of mauve lipstick that did nothing for my olive complexion. It was time to write another IOU, this time to the kayak rental company. Using my increasingly useful cell phone camera, I

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