Miss Trailerhood by Carina Taylor (the top 100 crime novels of all time .txt) 📗

more exciting things, Mr. Drop-Out-of-College-and-Explore-the-World.”

“College was the most boring years of my life.”

She flattened her lips together. “You were there for a term. You don’t do boring.”

I slung my arm around her shoulders and tugged her to my side. “Nothing is boring with you, Ri-bear.”

“I was hoping you would say that,” she laughed.

Something smelled like gas in the air. I wondered what kind of barbecue we were going to. We rounded the corner, and on the empty lot across from Johnny’s, there were about fifty people milling around. But that wasn’t what made me stop.

“What are they doing?”

Her innocent face was cracking. Riding lawn mowers sat on a chalked red line in the middle of the street. She looked positively gleeful.

“Oh, they’re having the lawn mower races.”

“Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

“So, they just get on the lawn mowers and race to the end?”

“No. They have to make three loops around the trailer park.”

“That sounds like the most boring thing in the world.”

Riley hummed quietly under her breath.

She turned and crossed the street to where a man in a back brace was topping off his riding mower with gas.

“Are you racing?” I asked the man—Eldon, I think his name was. We were next-door neighbors, and I’d had the great fortune of being woken up by that lawn mower engine, if I wasn’t mistaken. Now I knew why they had all those lawn mowers when they didn’t have big yards.

“Can’t.” Eldon patted the back brace around his middle.

I scowled when the man placed a hand on Riley’s shoulder. “I need you. My back won’t let me sit down.”

He grimaced.

“Are you sure?” Riley asked.

“I can’t do it. I need someone to drive for me.”

Riley nodded once then turned to look at me with a calculating look in her eye.

“Actually, I think Nate would be the perfect driver for you.”

Chapter SevenNate

She volunteered me for a lawn mower race. Was she crazy?

The man latched onto my arm. “Oh, would you, son? I’ve seen the way you drive that Jeep. I’d feel good having a feller—“

“Fellow,” Riley muttered under her breath.

The man continued, “Like you driving. I know we’d stand a chance. Riley drives like a grandma.”

I looked at Riley in surprise. She drove like a grandma? That was news to me. I’d had many a prayer service when I rode with her during high school.

The pleading look in the man’s eyes finally got to me. I mean, what could it hurt to drive in a lawn mower race? What was the worst that could happen?

“Sure, I’ll do it.”

“You’re such a good feller,” he repeated.

“Fellowwww,” Riley groaned.

Eldon frowned as he studied my face. “You sure?”

“I’m positive.”

Riley practically levitated with glee at my response.

“Well, if you’re certain... I’ll go get him my racing helmet.” Eldon ran off to a stack of boxes lined up behind the barbecues.

I leaned down close to Riley’s ear. “I don’t like the look in your eye. You’re planning something.”

She held her hands up and shook her head. “What could I possibly be planning?”

“Hmm, I don’t know, but I’ll figure it out.”

Riley drew me closer to the group of people gathered along the edge of the street. Sure enough, there was a barbecue happening. Hot dogs flew around like butterflies. Well, not quite, but Nascar Jim was a barbecuing fiend. He must have been a short-order cook in his other life.

“Riley!” a voice called.

Eldon came hurrying over with a pink bike helmet. “It’s my granddaughter’s, but it’ll have to do.”

He plopped it on my head, and I grimaced, thinking of the probability of lice.

He snapped the buckle under my chin.

“You look fantastic,” Riley said gleefully.

A catcall caught my attention, and I turned to see Wren standing next to a younger couple, grinning at me and gesturing to the helmet.

“What’s your name?” Eldon asked as he shook my hand with gusto.

“Nate.” I guessed I hadn’t been formally introduced to him yet.

“Well, Nate. Thanks for doing this for me. I’m Eldon. I’ll run and get her fired up for you.” He turned and sprinted toward the line of mowers. Rather spry for a man with a sprained back.

A motor revved behind me, but when I turned to look, Riley grabbed both my arms. Her strong grasp on my forearms surprised me.

I watched as she visibly swallowed. “I just wanted to say—“

She cleared her throat and tried again. “I wanted to tell you good luck. And thank you for not making fun of Eldon for this.”

“Do you think that lowly of me?”

She raised her eyebrows.

Apparently, she did. “Riley, I’m not thirteen anymore, and Eldon isn’t a cute girl I’m trying to impress.”

Another engine revved. This one was louder than any lawn mower I’d heard before. I turned to look, but Riley planted a hand on my cheek and patted it gently. “You’re so sweet to call me cute. And of course you’ve changed. But most adults don’t understand trailer-park life and the things we do to entertain ourselves. Welcome to the concrete jungle.”

I had difficulty swallowing; I could smell her perfume on her wrist. I’d never been good at identifying smells, but whatever it was smelled great.

“If you want to win this lawn mower race, you’ll have to listen to me.” She cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders. “Now, you know how slow lawn mowers are, right?”

I rolled my eyes exaggeratedly. “I’ve mowed lawns before. What kind of idiot do you take me for?”

“An honest answer?”

“No, it was a rhetorical question.”

She smiled, pleased with her little retort.

“Weren’t you going to give me some advice on how to win this race? Because you know what people are who don’t win—losers.”

“That was very original. I’m so impressed.” She rolled her eyes and sighed. “All right. Since it’s three laps around, you have to start strong. A poor start can ruin the rest of the race. When you get on that mower, you’re going to hold your foot up above the gas. When the whistle blows, you’ll stomp on it as hard as you can. Do