Marty Ambrose - Mango Bay 02 - Island Intrigue Read Free

Jo is practically beside herself
with worry, and I don’t know who else to turn to. You figured out who murdered that writer guy last summerdigging and digging until you found the truth.”
    And almost got myself killed, I added to myself.
    “I sure would appreciate it, honey” Her voice broke.
    “Okay. I’m covering the Autumn Festival at the elementary school tomorrow, so I’ll see if anybody knows
anything.”

    “Thanks a million,” she gushed. “You’re a real friend.”
    A slow smile spread across my face. “I don’t suppose
you’d like to rethink letting me in on the identity of my
new neighbors.”
    “No can do”
    My smile disappeared. “It was worth a try”
    Wanda Sue shook her head as she tottered off. I
watched her hair recede into the night like a yellow beacon, and a little voice inside my head told me I was getting myself into something more complicated than an
errant husband. Nothing was ever that simple on Coral
Island.
    My editor, Anita, just might have her wish for a decent news story after all.

     

I awoke the next morning to the familiar, slightly icky
sensation of a long, slobbery tongue being drawn across
my face. “Kong, please.” My eyes fluttered open, beholding all 2.8 pounds of my apricot-colored teacup
poodle. He was on the small side even for a miniature
canine dust mop, so I’d named him-on the recommendation of a doggy psychologist-after the fearsome giant ape in hopes that he’d outgrow his passive-aggressive
behavior.
    So far my plan hadn’t worked.
    He still took on strangers as if he were a German
shepherd in his aggressive moods but then had to be
dragged down to the shoreline for a simple walk along
the surf in his passive moments. Whoever heard of a
dog who terrorized people but panicked at the thought of dipping one paw into the water? He could’ve been
playing mind games with me, but I wasn’t sure. I had my
suspicions, though.

    Right now Kong was my only companion, so I overlooked his slight personality disorder.
    He began to lick my ear.
    “Enough already” I threw back the covers and shivered. Rubbing my hands together, I made a beeline for
the thermostat. “Jeez. It must’ve dipped almost to freezing last night.” I jerked the lever upward toward seventy.
Nothing happened. I toggled it a few times and tapped on
the plastic thermostat cover. Heat finally blasted out of
the floor grates. Raising my eyes to heaven, I gave a silent
prayer of thanks to the heat gods. My Airstream might be
refurbished, but it was over twenty years old and didn’t
like freezing weather any more than I did.
    Kong barked.
    I groaned, knowing what I had to do. I threw on a
pair of tattered sweatpants and an old white cable-knit
sweater I’d bought at the island consignment shop. It
specialized in “pre-owned” clothing, rather than “used”
items. I didn’t care what they were called as long as the
price was right.
    I fastened Kong’s leash to his collar and led him outside. A brisk wind roared in from the Gulf of Mexico,
the kind that made your teeth chatter and your shoulders hunch up somewhere near your ears. “Get the lead
out, Kong. I’m freezing.”
    He trotted off toward a clump of areca palm trees, and I cast a quick glance toward the Wanderlodge. The
shades up, I could see outlines of objects inside the RV
but nothing more. I checked the license plate. It was
temporary-the paper kind issued for a new vehicle
with State of Florida stamped on it. A clue! They’d
bought it in state.

    “I’ve got it. Gloria Estefan and her husband-they
live in Miami!” I exclaimed to Kong.
    He ignored me. A gopher tortoise lumbering toward
the beach area had caught his attention, and he kept
jumping on its hard-shelled back.
    Just then strains of jazz emanated from the Wanderlodge.
    No Latin beat. Okay, so it probably wasn’t Gloria Estefan and hubby. Then I realized that, just because it
was bought in state, that didn’t mean the