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

Chapter Forty-Three

Earl banged and kicked on the dead-bolted steel door like a mule trying to shake a mountain lion. His frantic, noisy efforts had the whole RV rocking and rolling.

“Geez! What are we gonna do?” I yelled to Grayson over the din. “Earl’s gotta use the bathroom, bad. Are we gonna let him out or not?”

“It depends,” Grayson said, shifting his gaze to Jimmy. “What kind of behavior should we expect from him if we do?”

Jimmy shook his head. “I really couldn’t say for sure. But from what I’ve seen, the men who go to those meetings aren’t dangerous. They’re more ... I don’t know. Confused, I guess.”

“Confused?” Grayson asked. “You’re going to have to do better than that if Earl’s going to get to use the privy.”

Jimmy shrugged. “I dunno. They seem to be able to function well enough to drive, but they’re disoriented somehow. Zonked out. And the next evening, when they come back to the meetings, they look grumpy.”

My nose crinkled. “Grumpy?”

“You know,” Jimmy said. “Irritable. Grouchy. Out of sorts.”

I frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Grumpy angry, or grumpy desperate?” Grayson asked.

“Desperate,” Jimmy said. “It’s like all they want to do is get back to the meeting.”

“Hmm,” Grayson said. “Peer pressure has been proven to be a formidable social force. In one study—”

“Wait,” I said, smiling slyly. “I think I know what’s going on here.”

“Voodoo mind control?” Garth asked.

I glanced across the room at the mullet-headed nerd. He was still standing by the side door, his face so hopeful at the prospect of voodoo that I hated to burst his geeky bubble. Still, it had to be done.

“No, Garth,” I said. “But close. I was thinking more along the lines of addiction. Grayson, you really should test that sample for drugs as soon as possible.”

Jimmy’s face lit up. “That must be it. What else would drive grown men to walk on hot coals? Or dance around with swords like pagan weirdos?”

Garth gasped. “Maybe it’s a Comic-Con convention!”

All of a sudden, an audible hissing noise sounded, like air escaping a balloon. I thought maybe Garth’s brain had sprung a leak. But then a horrible stench filled the air.

“Ugh!” I groaned. My eyes began to burn. “Who did that?”

“Let me outta here!” Earl hollered from down the hall.

I turned to Grayson. “Well? What are we gonna do? We’re out of time. Are we freeing Earl to use the toilet, or turning your bedroom into a rolling redneck outhouse?”

Grayson sniffed the air. “My olfactory receptors indicate your point may already indeed be moot.”

“Don’t do it,” Jimmy said, climbing out of the banquette. He sprinted to the hallway entry that led to the bedroom. Then he braced both arms against the sides of the doorframe, blocking our access to it.

“It’s still night out,” Jimmy said. “If you let Earl out now, he’ll be desperate to get back to the meeting. He’ll be like a homing pigeon.”

“A three-hundred pound homing pigeon,” Garth added.

“If it is drugs and he ate all four crullers, he’ll be unstoppable,” Jimmy said.

“We could dart him,” Garth said. “You know, like they do on Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom?”

I opened my mouth to speak and nearly gagged. The disgusting smell was getting worse, not better. “Couldn’t we at least let Earl get to the bathroom?”

“No,” Grayson said, grabbing his laptop. “Apparently, he’s had a mega-dose. Jimmy’s right. He’ll be as unstoppable as a drunken linebacker.” Grayson’s fingers flew as he tapped on the computer keyboard.

“What are you doing?” I asked. “Looking up drug side effects?”

“No,” Grayson answered, his eyes glued to the keyboard. “I’m ordering a new mattress.”

Chapter Forty-Four

The initial round of smelly, eye-burning gas had subsided somewhat. We’d all survived the blast. It was nearing 2 a.m., and it appeared our battle with Earl was turning into an all-nighter.

For the last half hour, I’d been dropping hints for Garth and Jimmy to go back to their trailer, but they weren’t biting. Dead tired, I wanted to lay down so badly that even the broken-down sofa-bed coffin was starting to look good.

“Come on, Grayson, can’t we call it a night?” I begged.

“Sorry, Drex. But until we’re able to analyze the contents of that contaminated cruller hole Earl ate, we can’t be sure of what we’re dealing with. The only thing for certain is that something is warping and twisting the minds of those men, turning them into festering mush. Does anyone have any other ideas besides drugs?”

“How about stupidity?” I said, my face hot with anger. “There seems to be a lot of that going around.”

“No, it can’t be stupidity,” Grayson said matter-of-factly. “It’s not transferrable, as far as I’m aware.”

“How about greed?” Jimmy asked.

Grayson’s eyebrows crunched. “Hmm. Love of money has been known to make people do foolish things. But as you pointed out before, there’s no evidence of selling behavior on anyone’s part—either retail or wholesale.”

“Then it must be drugs,” Garth said. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“Bbblllbbrrt,” someone said.

We turned and stared. The odd sound had come from Tooth—but not from his mouth.

The same, horrible stench as before poisoned the air.

Grayson grimaced as if in pain and yelled, “That’s it!”

“Sorry, Mr. Gray,” Garth said, grabbing Tooth’s collar.

I waved a hand in front of my face. “Dear lord, Garth! Open the door and let that dog out of here!”

“No,” Grayson said, wiping his eyes. He nodding toward the dog. “What I mean is, that’s it! Tooth has the answer!”

“What?” I said, pinching my nose closed. “Are you saying Earl and the other guys are being driven crazy by noxious dog farts?”

“Not exactly,” Grayson said. “It’s not the farts themselves, you see. It’s what’s causing the farts.”

“A dead possum?” Garth asked.

Grayson jumped to his feet. “No! Come on, people. Put on your thinking caps!”

I stared at Grayson. “Can I opt for a gas mask instead?”

Grayson shook his head. “Look. I’ll give you a hint. It starts with a B.”

“Bologna?” Jimmy asked.

Grayson shook his head.

“Beanie wienie?” Garth asked.

“Nope,”