Weevil Spirits (Freaky Florida Mystery Adventures Book 5) by Margaret Lashley

Author:Margaret Lashley [Lashley, Margaret]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Zazzy Ideas, Inc.
Published: 2020-11-15T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-Five

It was late afternoon. Just as Rusty had predicted when he’d pulled away in the tow truck, the rain was coming down in buckets. Tucked safely inside the RV with Earl and Grayson, I thanked the powers that be for two things—Netflix, and the fact that the pizza place in Bristol delivered.

The deluge pounding on the RV’s metal roof made a thunderous sound so loud I barely heard it when someone knocked on the side door.

I glanced at my two companions. Being of the male persuasion, they were, naturally, immune to hearing anything that would require them to get up off the couch. Instead, their eyes remained obliviously riveted to Grayson’s laptop and a rerun of The X-Files.

It wasn’t worth the effort to argue with them. I grabbed the money off the table and shuffled to the door.

“Who is it?” I asked.

A muffled voice yelled, “Pizza delivery!”

Wind and rain snuck in as I opened the door. Against the maelstrom, a man in a yellow slicker stood just outside, doing the best impersonation of the Gorton Fisherman in a nor’easter that I’d ever seen.

“How much do I owe you?” I asked.

“Forty-eight bucks.” He reached out a leathery hand to take the three twenties I offered.

“Whitey?” I asked as the bills went limp in my hand, instantly soaked by the rain.

His yellow hoodie tipped upward. “Hey, it’s you guys!”

“Small world,” I said.

He laughed. “Especially around these parts.”

“You deliver pizza?” I asked, taking the boxes he handed over. “I thought you were a psychologist.”

“Was. I’m retired. Now, instead of shrinking heads, I expand waists.” He tucked the money in his pocket and fiddled to make change in the downpour.

“Keep it,” I said, watching the water rivulets pour off his slicker.

He grinned despite the weather. “Thanks!”

“Hey, why don’t you come in?” I said. “Join us for dinner.”

Whitey pursed his lips and glanced back at a pair of glowing headlights by the road.

“I would, but I’m training a rookie driver. She’s new in town. Doesn’t know the route. Plus, I was a little worried about letting her go out here alone, what with all that’s been going on lately.”

“That’s okay,” I said. “Invite her, too.”

Whitey tucked the money away under his raincoat. “You sure?”

“Yeah. We’ve got four extra-large pizzas. That ought to be enough. If not, I’ll make Earl finish off the Dan’s Dents mystery hot dogs.”

Whitey grinned. “Well, all right, then. Let me go get her.”

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