Checkered Crime: A Laurel London Mystery Read Online Free PDF Page A

have a car.” We both looked back at the big yellow rusty hunk. “The world is your oyster.”
    “One problem.”
    “What’s that?”
    “I don’t like oysters.”

 
     
    Chapter Four
     
    “Fill ‘er up!” I yelled to Clyde Yap out the Belvedere window — once I figured out how to roll them down — when I pulled up to the gas pumps at the Gas-N-Go.
    There weren’t a lot of bells and whistles to the Old Girl, that was what I had named her, the Old Girl. She was worth every single penny I paid. Free.
    The Gas-N-Go was the only filling station in town that filled your tank and cleaned your windshield.
    “Laurel London?” Clyde thrust his head into the driver’s side window. A little too far, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin. “Where did you get this car?”
    His highly starched shirt barely moved when he planted his elbows on the window frame waiting for my answer to his question. His beady eyes gave me the stare down.
    “I — ” I was interrupted by Baxter Thacker, owner of Gas-N-Go, when he cleared his throat.
    He stood in the doorway of the gas station, his arms crossed over his large barreled chest. His eyes beat down on me. Baxter was not one I would want to meet in a dark alley at night. He was also one I never tried to cross when I was growing up at the orphanage. He made it very clear when Derek worked here while we were in high school that I was to come nowhere near the joint. Besides, the headless bald eagle tattoo on his forearm always gave me the creeps. He was a bad ass to the bone. No one crossed Baxter Thacker. Not even me.
    “You better get on out of here before Baxter pulls out a gun or something.” Clyde tapped the top of my hood. Clyde had been working for Baxter for as long as I could remember. He and Trixie were friends. We used Clyde’s Moose membership to get into the Moose lodge sometimes.
    “I’m a paying customer. I have the right to be here!” My voice escalated as I looked over at Baxter. His eyes narrowed. “I need gas.” I plucked a twenty out of my purse that was sitting on the passenger seat and dangled it up in the air so Baxter could get a good look.
    I should’ve only gotten ten dollars of gas and left the twenty to get some groceries. But I was probably going to need all twenty dollars worth since I was going to have to drive to Louisville and submit some applications if the Quick Copy idea didn’t pan out.
    Louisville was the closest “big” city to Walnut Grove and most Walnut Grove citizens worked in Louisville. Property taxes were much cheaper here, and the drive was only twenty minutes, thirty if you got behind a tractor.
    Cough, Cough. Baxter did some sort of pretend cough to get my attention, his feet firmly on the ground, body now square and arms to his sides.
    He let out another sound. I wasn’t sure if it was a grunt or a burp. Either way, he turned around and went back into the station to do whatever it was that Baxter did.
    “Fine.” Clyde took the money with his dirty hands, black underneath his nails, and took the nozzle off the pump before trying to figure out where the gas tank was.
    “You want to tell me what you are up to?” he asked. The baseball cap was a good cover up for his balding head. He picked at the dirt around the base of his nails. “Or am I going to have to hear all about this from Trixie?”
    Clyde had taken a fondness to Trixie. But in true Trixie fashion, she claimed she never wanted or needed a man, though she spent a lot of time with Clyde. I was sure she had a little tender spot in her heart for him although she’d never admit it.
    Countless times when Clyde would visit the orphanage for what Trixie called “meetings,” she would put a note on the office door. We knew exactly what their “meeting” was about when we heard grunting coming from behind the office door.
    “Morty has the old car in the shop,” I lied and picked at the torn leather on the seat between my legs. In the rearview mirror I noticed