Beach Town Read Online Free PDF Page B

a crutch, I’ve never seen one that big. In my life.”
    â€œIt’s a palmetto bug.” He took a broom from the cart and raised it over his head.
    â€œDon’t kill it!”
    â€œWhy not?” He took a swing with the broom, but the roach flew across the room again, landing on the television.
    â€œWhat the hell? Do you not understand? Just get it out of here. Take it outside and let it go. I don’t want a stinky dead roach in here.”
    The janitor stared at the crazed, half-naked stranger, and the gray eyes behind those glasses crinkled in amusement.
    For the first time, Greer realized how she must look. She tugged at the hem of her T-shirt, which barely reached midthigh.
    â€œDon’t look at me! Just do what I say and get rid of that bug before I call the front office. It’s disgusting.”
    He shrugged and turned for the door. “Go ahead and call. If you don’t want to kill the palmetto bug, my work here is done.”
    She picked up the phone. “I’m reporting you.”
    He laughed. “Report away.”
    She was getting nowhere with this rube. She sighed, dug a twenty-dollar bill from her pocketbook, and flung it at him. Twenties were the international currency of efficiency. Even the dimmest bulb could get behind one. “Get rid of that bug, okay? But don’t kill it. Understand? Do. Not. Kill.”
    â€œDo not kill.” He tucked the bill carefully into the pocket of his shorts, picked up a sheaf of papers from the dresser, and advanced on the hapless insect.
    â€œNot with that!” Greer screamed. “My film treatment. What the hell is wrong with you?” She snatched the treatment away from him and replaced it with a spiral-bound booklet that comprised the town’s telephone directory, which was half the thickness of Bryce Levy’s abbreviated film treatment.
    â€œHere. And be quick. And then I’m gonna need you to fix that damned air conditioner too. It’s like a sauna in this place.”
    The janitor nodded thoughtfully. He took the phone directory and gently slid it under the roach, folding the ends envelope style. He walked over to Greer’s open suitcase, shook the bug out, and quickly zipped the suitcase shut.
    For the first time in her life, Greer found herself stunned speechless. She stood there, wide eyed, slack jawed.
    â€œAnything else?” He turned and headed for the door, but not before giving her a thorough up-and-down look, his gray eyes sparkling with mischief.
    Greer narrowed her eyes. “Very funny. What? You’re also the town comedian?”
    â€œNope.” His hand was on the door.
    â€œWhat about the air conditioner? It doesn’t cool for worth a damn. And it’s leaking all over the floor.”
    â€œHmm.” He walked over, squatted down beside the air conditioner, ignoring the pool of water on the tile floor.
    Greer took the opportunity to size him up. He was medium tall, a shade over six feet, mid- to late thirties, with a build that said he was active but not a fanatic. He didn’t look like her idea of a typical maintenance man, but this was Florida. People came to this state with all kinds of agendas. He switched the air conditioner off, then on again. The window rattling started up again. “Sounds okay to me. But I’m no mechanic.”
    â€œWhat the hell kind of piss-poor maintenance man are you, then?”
    â€œNot much. I can do a little plumbing, unstop a sink, like that. You need any towels?” He nodded toward the cart in the open doorway. “I got plenty of towels.”
    â€œJust get out,” Greer snapped.
    â€œOkay.” He gave her a quick salute. “One more thing, though.”
    â€œWhat?”
    He pointed toward her suitcase. “Since you’re so into bugs and all, you should know that that palmetto bug in your suitcase there is a female. And right about now she’s probably laying eggs all over the