Scatman Dues (Freaky Florida Mystery Adventures Book 6) by Margaret Lashley (interesting books to read .TXT) 📗

“It was the logical thing to do,” Grayson said, slowly driving past Bessie. He gave a quick wave to Garth, who was waiting diligently behind the wheel like a wormy NASCAR reject. “After all, it really is vital to our ongoing investigation.”

“What is?” I asked. “Getting Bessie back to the compound?”

“No,” Grayson said. “Keeping whatever’s going on here with Earl and the Cruller Clan under wraps. Don’t get me wrong, Jimmy. Your brother Garth is a worthy operative. But the man can’t keep his mouth shut to save his soul.”

I couldn’t argue with that.

“That’s exactly why I didn’t tell him about my undercover operation,” Jimmy said.

I nearly swallowed my tonsils. “Wait. You’ve been working undercover?”

I hadn’t raised my voice from surprise, but in order to be heard over the din. Suddenly realizing he was trapped in the back bedroom, Earl began banging on the door and hollering like an astraphobic hound-dog in a raging thunderstorm.

“Uh ... yeah,” Jimmy said. “Not officially, though.” He sighed and shook his head. “I thought I could handle this alone. But now I know I’m in over my head. I could really use your help.”

“So exactly what do you think is going on?” Grayson asked.

Jimmy shook his jowly head. “I’m not sure. But whatever it is, it’s not normal. I’d been trying to keep Garth out of it. But I realized a couple of days ago that I needed backup. That’s why I sent Garth the messages. I figured he would call you guys.”

“He did,” I said. “But your messages to him were pretty much incoherent.”

“I know,” Jimmy said. “That was by design. I was trying to be vague. I wanted Garth to know I was okay, but I couldn’t let him know what I was up to.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“My investigation would’ve been blown in two minutes. You know how he is. He’d have gabbed every bit of information I shared with him to his ham radio buddies. There’d have been a pile of guys tramping around the park before I could finish taking a shower.”

My eyes met Grayson’s. “That’s a very reasonable assumption.”

“I wanted to meet with you,” Jimmy said. “Try to explain things. But when I saw Earl stumble into the Cruller Crew meeting last night, I knew you all had already discovered their secret meeting place. I left a note on Earl’s dash, trying to warn you to keep clear of them.”

“You’re Mr. STAY AWAY,” I said.

“Yes. When I didn’t hear back from Garth, I started texting you instead.”

“I don’t get it,” I said. “You want us to help, but you don’t want us to investigate the Cruller Club?”

“Right,” Jimmy said. “I mean, I want you to, but not yet. You see, I wanted to document the participants first. Tonight, I was planning on videoing the meeting and capturing the faces of the guys under the robes.”

“Why?” I asked.

“As evidence gathering for my investigation,” Jimmy said. Then he hung his head. “And to prove I’m not crazy. I mean, how can you describe what’s going on out there without sounding like a lunatic?”

“Fair enough,” Grayson said, nodding his head. “But no worries there. We believe you. We were with Earl last night. We saw the ceremonies ourselves.”

“Thank goodness!” Jimmy sighed with relief.

“Wait a minute,” I said, elbowing the young cop. “How’d you get my phone number?”

“From Garth’s phone. I found it in my gym bag. Just in time, too.”

“Why’s that?” I asked.

Jimmy chewed his lip. “Well, at first, I’d thought this was a simple case of a bunch of rowdy redneck entrepreneurs just letting off steam. But now ... let’s just say that whatever’s going on out there, there’s a lot more to it than that. I’m quite certain of it.”

“Intriguing,” Grayson said. “By the way, have you got any idea what might’ve happened to Wade?”

“Yes,” Jimmy said.

His voice cracked and he let out a small wail. Then he hung his head and whispered, “I killed him.”

Chapter Thirty-Nine

If Jimmy was a murderer, he was certainly an extremely repentant one.

He cried all the way to the compound.

After Garth lead us inside and closed the gate, Grayson parked the RV while I settled a sobbing Jimmy into the banquette booth. Then Grayson scooted in opposite him while I put a pot of coffee on to boil.

“Tell us everything,” Grayson said, softly coaxing the distraught, rather portly young cop. “Start from the beginning.”

Jimmy lifted his double-chinned head from the table and sniffed. “It all began last weekend, when I went out to the Hi-Ho with Wade,” he said, his face ashen. “We were out night fishing for catfish when we spotted something glowing in the woods. That’s how we stumbled onto this meeting thing—or whatever it is.”

I handed the poor guy a cup of coffee and slid into the banquette next to Grayson. That put me directly across from Garth, who had his arm laid across his brother’s shoulders.

We didn’t want the tattle-tale there, but we had no choice. Garth had been so thrilled to discover his brother was alive and well that once we got back to their prepper compound, he’d latched onto Jimmy and wouldn’t let go.

I studied the red-nosed, Wayne’s World wannabe and wondered if he’d have given his brother the same love and attention if he knew Jimmy had just confessed to murder.

I turned my gaze to Jimmy and shook my head. I’d have bet money that he was no killer. But then again, I knew all too well that people could harbor surprisingly dark secrets. After all, my cousin Earl was a closet Methodist.

“What happened then?” Grayson asked.

“Wade and I saw the glow in the forest and went to check it out,” Jimmy said, the three of us hanging on his every word. “That’s when we discovered a bunch of guys in robes dancing around a bonfire. We were getting ready to leave when one of them spotted us—and invited me and Wade to join them.”

“Who invited you?” I