Gertrude, Gumshoe and the Clearwater Curse by Robin Merrill

Author:Robin Merrill
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: funny cozy mystery, cat cozy, cozy mystery, cheap cozy mystery, christian cozy mystery, cozy mystery in maine, amateur sleuth, senior sleuth, senior snoops, senior snoop, female sleuth, humorous mystery, cozy mystery with ghost
Publisher: New Creation Publishing
Published: 2018-06-06T00:00:00+00:00

16

THERE WAS OBVIOUSLY no one home at the nearest camp, and Gertrude thought about breaking in, but decided she didn’t want to risk further conflict with Deputy Hale. She couldn’t catch a fake ghost if she was locked up in the clink. Instead, she crawled under the back deck of the camp and made herself a little nest. She spread out her tarp and only then thought to make sure she wasn’t invading any other critter’s territory. She shone the flashlight around the small space, but didn’t see any eyeballs. Satisfied, she stretched out her sleeping bag and got comfortable. A few times she nodded off, but then jerked awake to watch the shoreline.

At about midnight, she heard a noise she really didn’t want to hear. Raindrops. Aw, well, I’m under cover at least, she thought. But then the drops became streams, streams that fell from the sky and then flowed under the deck and over her tarp. By the time she felt it happening, it was far too late. Her backside soaked, she jumped up and rapped her head on the bottom of the deck. She let out a cry that could easily have been interpreted as a ghost call by her friends on the other side of the water. She looked around in a panic, suddenly sure she was going to drown. She climbed out from under the deck to get to her walker, which was already soaked. If my jitterbug is broken, I’m going to have to break into this cabin, Hale or no Hale.

But her jitterbug wasn’t broken. She fumbled through her pockets for Carlotta’s phone number, but when she found it, it was soaked through and unreadable. She squinted and tried to recall the number from memory. When she thought she had it, she dialed.

“Buzzard’s Breath Saloon?”

“Ah!” Gertrude screamed in frustration—into the phone—and hung up.

She scrunched her face again, harder this time, got a vision of a similar number, and tried that.

It rang and rang, and then she heard the blessed sound of her beloved Carlotta. She would never think a bad thought about this beautiful woman again. “I need help,” Gertrude said. “I’m drowning.”

“Are you still where Calvin dropped you off?”

“What?” Gertrude had trouble hearing over the torrential downpour.

“Calvin told me where he left you,” Carlotta said, too loudly. “Are you still in the same spot?”

“You don’t have to holler. I’m not deaf. Yes, I’m still in the same spot, but not for long. I’m about to be washed away. Hurry!”

“I’ll be right there.” Carlotta hung up before Gertrude could clarify exactly who was coming to her rescue, but she decided she didn’t care all that much.

She tried to shove all her bedding back into the bag, but it didn’t quite fit anymore. She shoved her phone into her bra in a futile attempt to protect it from further saturation. Then she just leaned on her walker and waited, the rain pouring on her head and running into her eyes. If the fake ghost lady had been twenty feet in front of her, Gertrude wouldn’t have seen her.

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