Read Online Doubled Up (Imogene Museum Mystery #2) by Jerusha Jones - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jerusha Jones
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me, but slowly straightened.
“I’m Meredith and I live here year-round.” I was about to introduce Tuppence when I noticed she had made a circle around the campsite and stretched in from behind the man to sniff his pant leg. I shifted my gaze quickly back to the man’s face. He seemed the type who might give an inquisitive dog a swift kick. “Are you visiting friends or family in the area?”
“ Looking for work,” the man grunted. “Wind farm.”
“ Oh yeah. I've heard it’s hard work — lots of climbing towers while hauling heavy parts.” Probably not the right thing to say, but it was too late to retreat. I could play a ditsy female if I needed to. He didn’t have a tent set up. “Do you have a way to heat that?” I pointed to the plywood canopy over the pickup’s bed.
“ I’ll be fine.” He scratched his chest and pulled his hand back out of his vest. He looked like any other laborer — plaid shirt under the vest, jeans, boots. The baseball cap shadowed his face. I could only tell that he was swarthy, with dark eyes like holes and a small nose — what you’d call a button nose on a kid, but it wasn’t cute on this guy.
Tuppence moved on to inspect the Datsun ’s rear tires. The man didn’t seem to have any camping equipment other than the lawn chair — unless he hadn’t unpacked yet.
“ Good luck with your job search.” I forced a cheery smile.
He shrugged.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you. What’s your name?”
“ Ferris.”
First name or last name? I didn ’t dare ask. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
I hightailed out of the clearing, willing Tuppence to come without being called. The hound caught up to me within a few yards.
“Does he make you nervous, too?” I asked in a low voice.
Tuppence snorted.
I knelt outside my RV and tousled Tuppence’s ears. “Want to come to Thanksgiving dinner with me? I don’t think Pete’ll mind. Anyway, he’d better not.”
o0o
Tuppence and I walked down the slippery dock to Pete’s tug. It was tied in one of the wide berths at the Port of Platts Landing and exhibited the only signs of life in the vicinity. Golden light from its windows reflected on the wet planks. Everything else was a shade of gray in the early dusk created by the overhanging cloud layer.
Pete opened the door, took my heavy basket, and held my hand as I stepped over the high threshold. Tuppence clambered after me and followed her nose directly to Pastor Mort Levine ’s ankles. He bent to scratch the dog’s back.
“ I hope it’s okay that I brought Tuppence,” I said.
“ She’s as welcome as you are.” Pete’s crinkle-cornered blue eyes just about did me in.
Sally Levine greeted me with a quick hug. “Smells delicious. What’d you bring?”
“ Yams, salad, pecan pie.” I sniffed appreciatively. “I was going to say the same, though. Have you been cooking all afternoon?”
“ No. Yes.” Sally and Mort said in unison.
“ Well, it doesn’t feel like it,” Sally explained. “Pete did the big stuff — the turkey, stuffing and mashed potatoes.”
“ Where are your kids?” I asked, looking around.
“ The youth group had a chance to help feed the homeless in Portland today,” Mort said. “They were excited to go, and it’ll be a good experience for them.”
“ You ready to answer their questions when they get back?”
“ I’m old enough to know I don’t have all the answers.” Mort chuckled. “And I think my kids have figured that out too.”
I settled on a built-in bench across the table from Mort and watched Pete and Sally work around each other in the tiny galley. The appliances and fixtures were strictly utilitarian and compact, but it also looked as though Pete had everything he needed. It was a couple steps up from a typical bachelor pad. Probably on par with my trailer, if I wanted to be honest. And cozy.
“Where’s your crew, Pete?” I asked.
“ Carlos and Al hitched a ride with a cousin to their mom’s place in
“I’m Meredith and I live here year-round.” I was about to introduce Tuppence when I noticed she had made a circle around the campsite and stretched in from behind the man to sniff his pant leg. I shifted my gaze quickly back to the man’s face. He seemed the type who might give an inquisitive dog a swift kick. “Are you visiting friends or family in the area?”
“ Looking for work,” the man grunted. “Wind farm.”
“ Oh yeah. I've heard it’s hard work — lots of climbing towers while hauling heavy parts.” Probably not the right thing to say, but it was too late to retreat. I could play a ditsy female if I needed to. He didn’t have a tent set up. “Do you have a way to heat that?” I pointed to the plywood canopy over the pickup’s bed.
“ I’ll be fine.” He scratched his chest and pulled his hand back out of his vest. He looked like any other laborer — plaid shirt under the vest, jeans, boots. The baseball cap shadowed his face. I could only tell that he was swarthy, with dark eyes like holes and a small nose — what you’d call a button nose on a kid, but it wasn’t cute on this guy.
Tuppence moved on to inspect the Datsun ’s rear tires. The man didn’t seem to have any camping equipment other than the lawn chair — unless he hadn’t unpacked yet.
“ Good luck with your job search.” I forced a cheery smile.
He shrugged.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you. What’s your name?”
“ Ferris.”
First name or last name? I didn ’t dare ask. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
I hightailed out of the clearing, willing Tuppence to come without being called. The hound caught up to me within a few yards.
“Does he make you nervous, too?” I asked in a low voice.
Tuppence snorted.
I knelt outside my RV and tousled Tuppence’s ears. “Want to come to Thanksgiving dinner with me? I don’t think Pete’ll mind. Anyway, he’d better not.”
o0o
Tuppence and I walked down the slippery dock to Pete’s tug. It was tied in one of the wide berths at the Port of Platts Landing and exhibited the only signs of life in the vicinity. Golden light from its windows reflected on the wet planks. Everything else was a shade of gray in the early dusk created by the overhanging cloud layer.
Pete opened the door, took my heavy basket, and held my hand as I stepped over the high threshold. Tuppence clambered after me and followed her nose directly to Pastor Mort Levine ’s ankles. He bent to scratch the dog’s back.
“ I hope it’s okay that I brought Tuppence,” I said.
“ She’s as welcome as you are.” Pete’s crinkle-cornered blue eyes just about did me in.
Sally Levine greeted me with a quick hug. “Smells delicious. What’d you bring?”
“ Yams, salad, pecan pie.” I sniffed appreciatively. “I was going to say the same, though. Have you been cooking all afternoon?”
“ No. Yes.” Sally and Mort said in unison.
“ Well, it doesn’t feel like it,” Sally explained. “Pete did the big stuff — the turkey, stuffing and mashed potatoes.”
“ Where are your kids?” I asked, looking around.
“ The youth group had a chance to help feed the homeless in Portland today,” Mort said. “They were excited to go, and it’ll be a good experience for them.”
“ You ready to answer their questions when they get back?”
“ I’m old enough to know I don’t have all the answers.” Mort chuckled. “And I think my kids have figured that out too.”
I settled on a built-in bench across the table from Mort and watched Pete and Sally work around each other in the tiny galley. The appliances and fixtures were strictly utilitarian and compact, but it also looked as though Pete had everything he needed. It was a couple steps up from a typical bachelor pad. Probably on par with my trailer, if I wanted to be honest. And cozy.
“Where’s your crew, Pete?” I asked.
“ Carlos and Al hitched a ride with a cousin to their mom’s place in
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