Bandit Hills: Books 1 - 4 by Blair Merrin

Author:Blair Merrin [Merrin, Blair]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: N25
Publisher: Summer Prescott Books
Published: 2021-09-15T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 3

At lunchtime I head down to Tank’s Diner for my daily dose of comfort food and gossip. Tank’s is way more than a diner; it’s a Bandit Hills staple. It’s usually the first place tourists stop on their way into town, and it’s where most of us residents gather to swap stories about recent goings-on. It’s run by the eponymous Tank, a big boisterous fellow with a booming voice and a deep belly laugh, and his wife April, who’s as pretty as a model and as capable as any three women. Tank’s favorite pastime, aside from slinging burgers and eggs, is regaling tourists with Bandit Hills history and pointing out the best places to go, while April likes to get to know her guests a little better (and then report information to her mother, Marla June, a “psychic”, who might actually be a psychic. Jury’s still kind of out on that one).

I pull into the lot and I’m surprised that I manage a parking spot right in front. Despite Halloween being right around the corner, our tourism has been a bit of a rollercoaster this season. First it was the usual steadiness, gearing up for the fall season; then Marla June gained some acclaim by channeling a ghost that led to solving a murder (which wasn’t at all how it actually happened, but only a handful of us know the truth). Then, last month, a poor ranch hand was murdered, and now it’s down again. It seems that folks are fine with ghosts that were murdered a long time ago, but when it’s fresh, it’s too real. Which is totally understandable.

I’m certain that things will pick up again soon, and in the meantime, we get to enjoy a bit of peace and quiet, like the calm before the storm. Don’t get me wrong, tourism is our bread and butter for several months out of the year, but the sudden influx can be exhausting and, admittedly, sometimes annoying. I’m pretty sure we’re well on our way to outlawing selfie sticks.

I head into Tank’s and slide into a stool next to Penny Harrigan, the proprietor of the fifties-style motel on the road into town. Penny’s got her nose stuck deep in the pages of a thick book, so all I see is her big bubble of flaming red hair, the book, and then a somewhat alarming view of the… um, twins. Penny’s an odd duck; she’s smart as a whip, sharp as a tack, and dresses like a redneck Peg Bundy, usually rocking a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up over a tight tank top. See, this is where me and Dash differ. The dead? I get them. The living? Not so much.

Before I’m fully settled on the stool, April’s already sliding a diet soda my way with a smile and a wink. “How’s things, Cass?”

“The usual,” I answer. “Well, that’s not true at all, actually. Kind of boring lately. Almost no tourists, sales have been underwhelming, and I haven’t been haunted in almost a month.

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