A Steal of a Deal Read Online Free PDF

Raiders-ofthe-Lost-Sanity-type adventures.
    “Oh, stop it right now, Andrea Autumn Adams!” Aunt Weeby says. “Who all died and made you queen? And don’t go blathering about no Egyptian pyramid woman, either— isn’t she the one with that funny black hair, all flat across the top like some peculiar hat?” She pauses and a quizzical glimmer strikes her eye. “How’d you think they got it to stay that way? Hair is hair, and it doesn’t rightly grow all stiff, you know.”
    The off-the-wall question makes me think she might’ve derailed her streak. I roll my eyes. “Duct tape comes to mind.”
    She purses her lips. “Now, don’t be silly. Besides, you can’t keep us here.”
    I think and think, trying to find another reason, and come up with an off-the-wall argument. “Hey! How about Rio? He needs you. Who’s going to take care of him if you leave?”
    She gives me a vague wave. “I’m sure we can find someone who’ll keep him, a friend, someone from church.” Her brow furrows, and my hopes for derailment rise. Then she smiles. “I have it! We’ll leave him with your friend Peggy. I’m sure her little ones will love having a parrot for a while. So there you have it, sugarplum.”
    Oh well. No derailment.
    She rises to her full five foot three inches. “All the fussing and moaning you come up with won’t change a thing. The Lord’s work needs doing, and Mona and I have us two hands apiece. We can pull up our sleeves and do our part. We’re coming, and that’s that.”
    Why did I even try?
    Miss Mona’s smile reeks of smugness. “I come armed with a nice, fat check too, honey.”
    I surrender to the inevitable and laugh. “You may be wacky, but you don’t ever hold back, do you?”
    “Hold back what?” Peggy says as she sails up, notebook in hand. “Did you see how many signed up? We have an army that wants to shuffle off to Kashmir with you, so you can lead the first group.” She gives me a sassy salute. “Aye, aye, Cap’n Andie.”
    Do these things happen to anyone else?
    At least I won’t have to worry about the California gem-dunce surfer boy this time.

300
    So much for Cap’n Andie and her missionary advance team. As soon as Miss Mona and Aunt Weeby bumped me off the mission team leader’s spot by virtue of their powerful personalities and family pecking order (I’m not about to invoke their superior seniority, you understand), the number of folks on the first team dwindled—dramatically. All the way down to the S.T.U.D. folks they’d signed up the night of that fateful meeting. Something reeks of rotten fish en route to Kashmir.
    Why, you ask? Let me tell you.
    Our “team” consists of Aunt Weeby, Miss Mona, Glory Cargill, the newest camerawoman at the S.T.U.D., Allison Howard, our makeup artist, and moi. Yes, Glory has all her gadgets, and Allison her war paint. Get the picture?
    Okay. So I don’t have Mr. Magnificent with me. That’s a bonus. When it comes to Aunt Weeby’s and Miss Mona’s crazy schemes, I have to take what I can get.
    We ditch our plane at Srinagar’s airport—after we survived delays, hours of turbulence, hopping in and out of New Delhi, then Bombay—and make our way through immigration, customs, and finally reach the luggage pickup. Surprise, surprise! All our stuff’s here.
    “Whoo-ee!” Aunt Weeby says as we roll our suitcases to the sidewalk outside. “I wouldn’t ever have guessed it’d be this hard getting just five women to this here Kashmir.”
    I wink. “What? You’d rather have done a Star Trek Scottie-beam-us-up?”
    She returns my wink. “Wouldn’t that be fun? The beaming up, that is.”
    “All kidding aside, my dear auntie, I’m with you!” Then I laugh. “Okay. Here’s one for you. What day is it? Yesterday? Tomorrow?”
    “Pfft!” She crosses her arms. “Ask one a’ them foreigners, not me. Normal folks wouldn’t go play with clocks like them time zone things. Tell me that’s not the most turned-around foolishness