Death in Suburbia (The Kellys Book 2) by Nic Saint

Author:Nic Saint [Saint, Nic]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Puss in Print Publications
Published: 2019-04-16T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

Even as Scott and Mike were discussing the likelihood of Bart Sloe being a shapeshifting reptilian alien agent from the planet Zortex—and Scott was having a hard time believing this was so—Scott’s dad was strolling up to the Pollard house, preparatory to ringing the bell. As he did, he saw a woman walking down the street. She was blond and dressed in business attire. He looked away again, proceeding up the Pollard driveway. Even though he’d been bugging Royce about the model train thing for weeks, he still hadn’t given up hope convincing the man to join this latest gambit of his.

Royce had managed to stave off all of Tom’s attempts to interest him in his trains. Once he’d come over to take a gander, but it was obvious the endeavor hadn’t struck a chord. Asking the bank manager what his hobby was, Royce had told Tom he and his wife had taken a course in chocolate making and were now thinking about launching a home-based chocolate-making business. Though judging from Royce’s waistline he liked eating the stuff as much as cooking it up.

It had been a bitter disappointment for Tom, who’d envisioned roping the entire neighborhood into his model train project—maybe even turning the local park into a gigantic model train set, so kids and adults alike could hang out there and have fun.

So while Dee and Maya got acquainted with the latest addition to the Kelly family: Smokey the cat, Tom decided to borrow a spot welder. Not that there was anything wrong with his own spot welder, but he wanted an excuse to have another little chat with Royce about his model train project and, even more importantly, about that transaction Maya had witnessed the night before. There was probably a very simple explanation and Tom wanted to hear it so he could put his family’s mind at ease about Bart being an evildoer.

He rang the bell, whistling a merry tune all the while—possibly the latest Taylor Swift hit song—or was it Katy Perry?—and rang the bell once more when no response came from inside the house.

Weird. He’d seen Royce pottering about in his backyard only moments before—dragging a lawn chair from his garden shed and positioning it just so. Tom had even waved at his neighbor and Royce had waved back, a thick paperback in his hand that looked like it just might be the latest Tom Clancy. Amazing feat, he remembered thinking, for a writer to keep churning out bestsellers even after he’s already dead and buried.

“Royce?” he called out, knocking on the door with his fist. “Leah?”

Then he thumped his own brow with his fist. Of course. How stupid. If Royce was in the backyard reading about the continuing and possibly harrowing adventures of Jack Ryan, he wouldn’t hear the doorbell. So he took the narrow footpath which had seen Scott sneak up on Royce and Bart the day before, and continued whistling some Katy Perry—or was it Taylor Swift? “Royce?” he said as he approached the backyard.

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