Bingo Barge Murder Read Online Free PDF Page A

O’Hanlon, you are not going to let anything bad happen to my friend Nick Coop.” His beseeching golden eyes just about broke my heart.
    “I’m going to try very hard to make sure nothing bad happens to Coop.”
    “Thank you, Shay O’Hanlon. Thank you.” He pumped my hand, and was about to slam the door when he turned back to me. “Be sure to rotate your tires every six thousand miles, Shay O’Hanlon.” Rocky gently shut the door and disappeared into his building, leaving me to repeat “coopmsritabuzzrileymslavonneandsomebig” like a mantra all the way home.
    _____
    I trudged along the rough stone sidewalk to Eddy’s back door and let myself in. I felt drained from the strange emotions of the day. After rousing Eddy from her CSI -induced stupor in front of the TV, she led me out to the garage. Once inside the dim garage, she flipped a switch to illuminate it with a single bare bulb.
    “So how do you get up there?” I asked Eddy.
    “The ladder, child.” Eddy pointed to an old ladder resting against the garage wall. The wooden deathtrap was decorated with varying hues of smeared and dripped paint—remnants of Eddy’s attempts at replicating interior decorating projects she had seen on the DIY network. I had been on that sorry excuse for a ladder helping with a couple of those so-called projects. I’d sworn never to step foot on the rickety contraption again.
    Eddy laughed at my terror-stricken expression. “I’m pullin’ your funny bone. You push that there button under the ledge.” She pointed at a shelf of crusty oil cans. I stuck my hand beneath the blackened, grimy plank, and at one corner, felt the nub of a button. I bent over and peered under the shelf. Sure enough, an old-fashioned doorbell was installed on the bottom.
    Eddy said, “Push it.”
    I pushed. A square of light appeared above us, and one of those retractable, rescue-type ladders slid down to within a couple feet of the garage floor. The opening in the ceiling glowed like a window to the heavens.
    Coop’s head popped upside-down through the opening.
    “Hey you two,” he said, then disappeared.
    Eddy eyed at me. “What are you waiting for? Come on.” She strode over and clambered up the ladder. She never ceased to do way more than I ever could expect. I shut my mouth, which was hanging open, and climbed up behind her.
    As my head came through the trap door, I whispered, “Holy. Shit.” Below me lay a musty, filthy double-car garage. The space above was completely different.
    A couple of ancient lamps chased most of the shadows away. The room was only about ten feet by twelve with a pitched roof. Rough planks were laid for flooring, and were partially covered with a remnant of outdated orange shag. A neatly made up but ancient twin bed perched in a corner, along with a crib that looked as though it had seen more than its share of tantrums.
    For a moment, I wondered if I’d crawled into Doc Brown’s DeLorean and traveled back to the Seventies. A little kitchen setup in one corner had a mini two-burner electric stove, a single basin sink with separate faucets for hot and cold, and a dorm-type refrigerator that was almost futuristic compared to the rest of the kitchen appliances. A modern twelve-inch TV on a two-tier cart sat above a VCR/DVD combo unit. A small camping-style toilet was stashed back under the sloped rafters. From the looks of it, stowaways must only use the emergency john when it was impossible to sneak into Eddy’s apartment.
    The entrance from the garage floor was situated near the mini-kitchen. After I hauled myself through the opening, Coop pulled up the ladder and pushed a button that closed the trap door by activating a jerry-rigged electrical pulley. I eyed the contraption, wondering if we could escape if the electricity died or a fire broke out.
    Eddy slid into a chair at a battered card table and Coop sat next to her. “Watch your head, child,” Eddy warned as I started toward the table and nearly knocked