Murder on Wheels (A Tourist Trap Mystery, #6)

Austin turned stone-white. “The inspector called back this morning and rescheduled. He said that if we don’t meet him today, it will be a couple of months before he can get out here.” Austin turned Kacey’s head away from watching the seagulls frolic on the waves. “We really have to go.”


“Fine. I guess we have to go then.” Kacey gave Emma a kiss on the top of her head and smiled at me. “I’ll see you later. Maybe I’ll come in to your shop tomorrow. What time do you work?”

Austin pulled her away and toward the parking lot exit. I called after them, “Five to noon. Come in any time.”

I watched as Austin dragged his wife up the stairs to the lot and they disappeared from view. I looked around the now-empty beach and unclicked Emma’s leash. “Let’s finish our run.”

By the time Greg arrived to pick me up for our clams and beer date, I’d finished showering and was dressed. I sat with my legs tucked under me, my formal flip-flops with the oversized flower decoration on the floor next to the couch. Emma slept on top of one of them, making sure I didn’t slip out without her noticing.

I’d left the front door open so the sun and air could come through the screen. And also so I wouldn’t have to get up to let Greg in. He grinned when he saw me on the couch. “Lady of leisure these days, huh?”

“Get off my back. This is my no-guilt Monday. Although I did run with Emma, it was merely for pleasure reasons, not for the exercise.” I stretched and put the book on the coffee table. “We ready to go? Or do you want an iced tea before we leave?”

He glanced at his watch. “Reservations are at seven, so we have a little time. Iced tea would be great.”

Emma woke with a start and ran toward Greg as he opened the screen and came into the living room. “Hey, girl. Did you get to go on a run today?”

Emma wiggled her entire body. She loved Greg. Which was good since he spent most of his free time here when he wasn’t keeping South Cove safe for its citizens. “I’ll be right back.”

Greg followed me into the kitchen and kissed my neck as I poured the tea over the ice cubes in two glasses. “Today was crazy. Your friend the mayor has decided that we should do joint training exercises with Bakerstown on surviving a terrorist attack. So now I’ve been assigned a task force to develop the plan for the exercise.”

“More meetings. You must be thrilled.” I knew for a fact Greg hated meetings. I handed him the tea. “Porch or kitchen?”

He glanced out the window. “Better make it kitchen. If I get comfortable on that swing of yours, we’ll never make our dinner.”

“Worse things could happen,” I said as I walked over to the table and sat.

Greg joined me. “Yeah, like a terrorist attack on a little tourist town no one has ever heard about.”

“That’s not true. We do all kinds of advertising in the big California tourist magazines. And we were nominated that one year for best tourist town to walk through with less than six thousand residents,” I countered.

“In 2001. Face it, Jill, we’re a small fish in a really big pond of places people can go to spend a weekend.” He shrugged. “And I kind of like it that way.”

I sipped my tea. Maybe we were just going to have to do something about that. I’d talk to Aunt Jackie next week about ways to increase our image in the tourist community. Greg looked beat, and I was sure the mayor was riding his tail about this new project. So I decided to change the subject.

“Guess who I ran into twice today?”





CHAPTER 3


Halfway through my bucket of clams, Greg’s phone rang. I didn’t even look up, but started eating faster. From experience, it appeared date night was coming to an end. I quickly buttered a slice of their homemade fresh bread and devoured it.

“It could just be a check-in.” Greg chuckled, watching my increased speed.

“Not with my luck,” I mumbled with my mouth full. “And this bread isn’t as good warmed up in the microwave.”

He wiped a butter spot off my chin with his napkin, then answered his phone. “Hey, Tim, what’s up?”

As he listened, Greg watched me drain my bottle of beer, then handed me his, which was almost still full. I took it and cracked open more clamshells. He sighed. “No, you did the right thing. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. I’ve got to drop Jill back at the house.”

He waved over our waitress and nodded to the two clam buckets on the table. “Can you put those in a to-go box and bring me our check?”

The woman took Greg’s bucket and reached her hand in to get mine, but I snagged one more clam before they all disappeared. Greg started laughing. “I think she thought you might bite off her hand.”

I finished the last clam, then took the bread and wrapped all but one slice into a napkin, putting the bundle in my purse. I buttered the last slice and glared at Greg. “I hate Tim.”