Scatman Dues (Freaky Florida Mystery Adventures Book 6) by Margaret Lashley (ereader for android TXT) 📕

My upper lip hooked skyward. “What?”

Garth sat up a little straighter. A determined look formed on his face. “I LoJacked his ass.”

“Indeed,” Grayson said, his eyebrow arching. “I thought LoJack was only available to members of law enforcement.”

Garth slumped back into the couch. “Busted, Mr. Gray. But I did tag him, sort of.”

“How?” Grayson asked.

“The last time Jimmy came home, I slipped my cellphone into his gym bag.”

“Why?” I asked.

“You know, so I could track the GPS signal.”

“Good thinking,” Grayson said.

“So what’s with all that ‘LoJacked his ass’ business?” I asked.

Garth shrugged. “I dunno. It guess it just sounded a lot cooler.”

“Understandable,” Grayson said. “So, were you able to track your brother?”

“Yes and no.” Garth sneezed. “That was the last time I saw him. Wherever he’s been going, it’s in the boondocks. The signal skips out after he passes Turkey Creek Road.”

“Hmm,” Grayson grunted. “That gives us a good point to start. Anything else you can tell us?”

Garth grimaced. “Well, maybe. A couple of days ago, Jimmy left a message on the land line.” Garth blinked up at us blankly.

“Well, let’s hear it,” I grumbled impatiently.

Garth frowned. “Christ. It’s Frickin’ Krull.”

I blanched. “I didn’t think I was that crabby.”

Garth’s bloodshot eyes widened. “No. Not you, Miss Pandora. That’s what Jimmy said. ‘Christ. It’s Frickin’ Krull.’”

My mouth fell open. I glanced over at Grayson.

“Krull?” Grayson said. “Are you absolutely positive?”

“Yeah.” Garth honked at the snot building up in his nostrils.

“Hmm.” Grayson rubbed his chin. “I don’t recall Krull being mentioned in my cryptid research or in ancient mythology.”

“Me either,” Garth said. “The only thing I could find on it was a Star Wars knock-off movie called Krull made back in 1983.”

“What’s it about?” I asked.

Garth sighed. “It’s one of those interplanetary, swashbuckling schmaltz fests.”

I smirked. “How many times did you watch it?”

Garth winced. “Eighteen.”

“So, who was Krull?” Grayson asked.

Garth shook his head. “That’s just it. Krull was nobody.”

Grayson’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean, nobody?”

Garth pushed his black glasses up on his puffy red nose. “In the movie, Krull wasn’t a person. Krull was a planet.”

I glanced over at the TV. The video was freeze-framed on Jimmy’s fat butt bending over the bench seat of his truck. “Well, that makes perfect sense, given the fact that Jimmy’s ass is the size of an asteroid.”

“Please, guys,” Garth said. “You gotta help me—and quick. I think something big is about to go down, and soon.”

“What makes you believe that?” Grayson asked.

“Because I’ve never seen Jimmy with a sword before.”

I nearly swallowed my tonsils. “A sword?”

“Yeah,” Garth sniffed. “It got delivered two days ago. He unpacked it and took it with him. I haven’t seen him since.”

I shook my head. “How is any of this possible?”

Garth shrugged. “Easy. Nowadays, you can get anything on Amazon.”

Chapter Seven

Dusk had fallen on the rural outskirts of Plant City, mercifully softening the hard edges of the rusted out truck chassis and decaying trailer homes that served as points of interest in Garth’s backwoods neighborhood.

We’d waited until dark to begin our search for Jimmy for two reasons. One was for fear Jimmy might recognize Grayson’s old RV and get spooked. The second was that, try as he might, Garth couldn’t get a GPS bearing on Jimmy. Either his brother had driven out of signal range, or Garth’s cellphone battery had died.

While we’d waited to see if the signal would reappear, Grayson and Garth had discussed pertinent geeky details of the case. As for me, I’d taken the liberty to run some errands, including picking up chicken soup and Nyquil for Garth—and disinfectant wipes and zinc lozenges for me and Grayson.

When I’d returned, so had the GPS signal emanating from Garth’s covert cellphone. Grayson and I had dropped off the groceries, then jumped in the RV and headed out before the signal petered out again.

“Which way should I turn?” Grayson asked as he came to a stop at an intersection marked only by a stop sign full of bullet holes.

“I don’t know. How do you work this thing?” I asked, then bitch-slapped the side of the plastic gizmo in my hand. It looked like a transistor radio—without any knobs.

“What are you trying to do?” Grayson asked.

“Track Jimmy’s cellphone, like you said.”

“Drex, that’s a bug sweeper.”

“Eww!”

I flung the device onto the floorboard, then kicked it back under the seat where I’d found it. “Gross! Where’s the hand-sanitizer I bought?”

“Not that kind of bug.”

“Oh.” I grimaced, then smiled sheepishly. “You meant the, ‘Do you think you’re being bugged,’ kind of bug.”

Grayson pursed his lips. “Exactly.”

I frowned. “Well, do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Think you’re being bugged!”

Grayson’s eyebrow arched. “I will if you continue with this line of questioning.”

“Hardy har har.” I crossed my arms, stared out the window, and gnawed resentfully on the Tootsie Pop in my mouth.

“What made you think the bug sweeper was the GPS tracker?” Grayson asked.

I reached down under the seat, snatched up the gizmo and shoved it in my partner’s face. “Maybe because it says, R F Signal Detector on it?”

“R-F stands for radio frequency, not wifi signal.”

“Oh.” My brow furrowed. “What’s the difference?”

Grayson stared at the road ahead for a full minute, then muttered, “There are subtle differences.”

I smirked. “Ha! You don’t know, do you? Finally, a question ‘The Great Grayson’ doesn’t know the answer to! Ha ha!”

Grayson blew out a breath. “Okay. Now you’re officially bugging me.”

“Not according to this thing,” I said, grinning and wagging the device in the air. “See? The light’s green.”

Grayson shook his head. “That means the signal is clear. No one’s listening in.”

“Oh.” I turned down the sarcasm a notch. “Why do you have this thing, anyway? Who would want to listen in on our conversations?”

“You’d be surprised.”

Anger poked a hot finger into my brain. I studied Grayson for a moment, a scowl forming on my lips. “I might be, if you’d ever tell me anything.”

Grayson sighed. “This is a discussion for another time, Drex. Right now, we need to get a bead on the phone Garth hid in Jimmy’s