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

I folded my arms across my chest. “You have thirty seconds to make your point, or I’m outta here.”

Grayson’s eyebrow arched. “Fine.”

He stabbed the stick at the QK scrawled on the box. “What if Queen Kristie’s ultimate plan is to infest the human race with sugar-loving bacteria that fatten us up?”

My jaw fell open.

Garth raised his hand. “Why would she do that, Mr. Gray?”

“To turn us into toro,” Grayson said.

Jimmy’s head cocked. “Lawnmowers?”

“No,” Grayson said. “Tuna belly.”

The brothers stared at him blankly.

I shifted to one foot. “Fifteen seconds,” I said. “Get to the point!”

“Sushi, people!” Grayson said. “Don’t you see? Toro is the soft, fat belly muscle. It’s considered the best part of the tuna. Desirable, sushi-grade specimens can go for over $400 a pound.”

“Wait,” Jimmy said. “You think they’re going to soften us up and eat us?”

Grayson’s cheek dimpled. “Bingo! Hand that man a prize!”

Or maybe a pair of chopsticks...

Chapter Fifty-One

“We’re gonna to be turned into food for space aliens?” Garth gasped, jumping up and squirming out of his patched inner-tube like a mullet-topped worm from the middle of a charred donut.

“That’s ridiculous,” I said, stomping my foot. “Even if it were true, why in the world would aliens choose Polk County of all places to begin an invasion?”

Grayson teetered on the edge of his battered lawn chair and chewed his lip. “Perhaps Queen Kristie is using this as a test market. That could explain Wade’s disappearance. Perhaps he was Experiment Number One.”

My mind went to the mystery folder I’d scoured the RV for when Grayson wasn’t looking.

Experiment #5

My gut flopped.

Is Grayson testing humans for some devious plan of his own?

Am I Experiment #5?

Stunned, I blinked blankly as Garth pushed his glasses up on his nose and said, “Of course, Mr. Gray! That could explain the use of KFC, too.”

“Absolutely,” Grayson said. “The aliens are working from an outdated guide to intergalactic cultures—one before KFC became so popular.”

“Exactly!” Garth said. “It all fits perfectly now!”

My molars pressed together hard enough to crack granite. Was Grayson an alien himself? No more dancing around the subject. I wanted to know. Now.

I glared at Grayson. “How do you know so much about alien guidebooks and stuff?”

“Simple,” he said. “I have a subscription to The UFO Enquirer.”

“So do I,” Garth said. “They had a whole section on alien travel guides in last month’s issue.”

I let out a long, slow breath. “Fine. Let’s say Queen Kristie doesn’t read magazines, and she’s fattening us up for a bacteria-infested barbeque. Where’s she getting all this bacteria?”

“Excellent question,” Grayson said. “As you all know by now, bacteria need hosts. Queen Kristie herself could be a fruiting body.”

My lip snarled. “Fruiting body?”

“Yes. An incubator, if you will.”

I grimaced. “You’re not suggesting this woman is some sort of intergalactic bacteria factory, are you?”

Grayson tapped his stick in his palm like a pointer. “Do you have another explanation for why she appears to be able to stay slim despite dispensing a veritable sea of donuts?”

My gut flopped.

Geez. Maybe he’s right.

Grayson smirked. His green eyes glowed with scientific fervor. “Think of it! Queen Kristie could be a sapient form of extraterrestrial microbiome, designed solely for the remote manufacture and distribution of alien bacteria in the most insidious way possible!”

I winced. “Through mind control?”

“No,” Grayson said. “Free samples.”

Jimmy and Garth gasped. “Diabolical!”

“Indeed,” Grayson sighed and nodded. “It’s something the ordinary man is incapable of resisting.”

My nose crinkled. “But this bacterial bimbo’s too skinny to be eating these guys herself. What’s in it for her?”

Grayson gazed up at the heavens. “If the fractal nature of the universe is correct, patterns repeat themselves in perpetuity. It’s highly unlikely that life originated here on Earth. So who’s to say profit and greed have solely Earthly origins, either?”

I cringed. “Are you saying she’s a profiteer? That humans are a cheap and easy source of intergalactic protein?”

“Why not?” Grayson said. “We multiply like rabbits, and we’ll eat darn near anything.”

We all stared silently at the ominous QK scrawled on the old water-heater carton.

There was no arguing with the naked truth—no matter how preposterous or flabby or middle-aged it was.

Chapter Fifty-Two

“Mr. Gray,” Jimmy said, dismounting his rusty Schwinn bicycle and laying it down on the deck. “What’s your take on how this whole alien-bacteria infestation scheme works?”

Grayson studied the charcoal-stained end of his pointing stick for a moment, then glanced up at the sky. “As far as I can tell, once a victim ingests one or two free donut samples, the partaker becomes an unwitting host.”

“An unwitting host?” Jimmy asked. “You mean like Earl?”

“He said unwitting, not witless,” I muttered.

Grayson shot me some side-eye, then nodded at Jimmy. “The alien bacteria disorient the host, causing brain fog, as we’ve witnessed with Earl. You said you’ve seen similar behavior with the other men participating in Queen Kristie’s rituals, correct?”

“Yeah,” Jimmy said. “But what happens next? Is that her end game—harvesting these guys’ fat stomachs and taking off for Krull?”

Grayson pursed his lips. “Perhaps. But I think Queen Kristie may have even bigger plans in store.”

“Bigger?” I asked. “Like what?”

Grayson locked his green eyes on me. “Global infestation.”

I nearly swallowed my tonsils. “What?”

“Consider this, if you will,” Grayson said. “These infected men leave the meetings unaware they’re hosting the alien bacteria, right?”

My nose crinkled. “Uh ... okay.”

“So then, no longer in their right minds, the infected men go about spreading the bacteria to the population, unaware they’re mindless pawns in a microscopic alien game of chess.”

Jimmy shook his head. “I don’t understand. How can the infected ones spread it to others?”

“Oh!” Garth grunted. “Through sex?”

I snorted. “If so, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

What am I saying? Neither do I!

“No,” Grayson said. “Through feces. Weren’t you listening when I said it’s comprised mostly of bacteria?”

I grimaced. “Gross! Are you saying they make people eat their poop?”

“No,” Grayson said, staring at me like I was nuts. “How could you even think such a disgusting thing? I meant that, with every