Murder at Kangaroo Downs by June Whyte

Author:June Whyte [Whyte, June]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery
Publisher: June Whyte Books
Published: 2017-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

17

RED PAINT

The caravan park, set on a flat scrubby piece of land on the outskirts of Kangaroo Downs, was a mixture of old and new vans with half a dozen permanent cabins, a shower block and an adventure playground for the kids.

Bazza’s van, resting on a pile of crumbling cement bricks, looked at least sixty years old. Sixty years of sun, rain, and neglect which had weathered the exterior to a depressing all over gray color. In contrast, the mass of bright red geraniums jostling for sunlight in a long wooden box along the front of the van appeared welcoming.

“Are you the one with the green fingers?” Emily asked as they climbed from the Subaru and approached the caravan door. “Or do you live here with a garden enthusiast?”

“Nah. Just me and Rocky.” Evidently embarrassed by the compliment, he shrugged. “Geraniums are easy to grow.”

A white and black greyhound, long nose squashed against the window, hot breath fogging the glass, peered through the window at them. Emily’s heart melted. Like most greyhounds he was all smiles and bursting with friendliness.

“Hey, Rock,” Bazza called out as he flung open the caravan door. “I brought two cute lady vets to fix you up, mate.”

“Don’t try and butter us up, Barry. It won’t work. And don’t get your hopes up, either. We’re vets—not magicians. If your dog is lame he could have broken a toe or chipped a bone in his wrist, in which case he won’t be racing for months.” Emily climbed the step into the van and looked around. “Jesus, kid,” she yelped as she took in the mess. “Have you been burgled?” The place looked like a gale force wind had swept through, lifted everything into the air, jumbled them together, and then dropped them willy-nilly throughout the van. She stepped over what looked like a pair of jeans that had recently been used for cleaning up tomato sauce and screwed up her nose.

“Nah, this is normal” said Maggie regarding the clothes piled high on a chair and empty pizza boxes and beer bottles spread across the floor. “It’s something you haven’t experienced in your ‘adults only’ bubble. It’s called a teenager’s room.”

The teenager in question, after greeting the excited dog with a hug, glared over his shoulder. “Hey, it’s just a caravan. What ya expect?”

“But it’s where you live,” persisted Emily. “And where your racing dog lives,” she added kicking an empty pizza box out of her way. “How can you expect your greyhound to race at his best when he’s stealing stale junk food off the floor? And what about if he wins and gets swabbed by the stewards? God knows what he’d have in his system. Not good enough, Barry.” With reluctance she accepted a grungy sneaker presented to her via Rocky’s drooling mouth and with two fingers, gingerly placed it on top of the pile of clothes on the chair and tickled the dog behind the ears. “Now, I can’t check Rocky in amongst this disgusting mess, so put a lead on your dog and take him outside.

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