Coastal Cottage Calamity (A Logan Dickerson Cozy Mystery Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

there,
little doggie,” the man said. A woman, pulling a suitcase behind her followed him
in. She smiled as she watched the scene. Staying clear of it, she seemed to enjoy
Cat’s dislike for her companion.
    “Hi,” Brie said
with a smile. “How can I help y’all?”
    “Can you get the
dog?” he asked and adjusted the garment back he had slung over his shoulder. Cat
was still barking and added a few snarls and bearing of teeth to his exhibition.
She yelped so hard that it was making her go backwards.
    “Momma,” Brie
said. “Get, Cat.”
    “That’s no cat,”
the man said. “The little fellow seems like a man eater.”
    “Cute dog,” the woman
said, which made the man hiss at her.
    “Hush your fuss,
Cat,” Miss Vivee said and beckoned the dog to her. “C’mere girl.” Cat gave one
more growl toward the man and leapt up onto Miss Vivee’s lap. “Good girl.”
    The man gave one
more look over his shoulder, stuffed his shirt back down his pants, tugging
them over his large pot-belly. He tugged at his nearly too little suit jacket.
He gave the woman behind him a look before smoothing his hair and walking the
remaining distance to the counter.
    “We’d like to get
a room,” he said, his smile looked disingenuous. “Hope that dog won’t be a
problem though. I don’t want to pay good money just to be terrorized by a
mutt.”
    “She’s no mutt,”
Miss Vivee said. “Pure Scottish terrier. She just doesn’t like hooligans.”
    “Miss Vivee,” I
whispered. “Be nice.”
    “No. The dog won’t
be a problem.” Brie’s usually sweet voice now mimicked her mother’s seemingly
general displeasure with the man. “She usually isn’t so boisterous,” she said
muttering the quasi apology.
    “Okay then. One room
then. King size bed if you have it. For me and my wife, Charlotte,” he said and
pointed to the woman at his rear.
    “Charlie,” the
woman offered.
    “Charlotte,” he
emphasized, “is Oliver Gibbons’ cousin. You know him?” He leaned forward and
peered into the dining room glancing around it. From where I stood at the end
of the counter, I saw everyone stop and take notice of the man’s remarks. “We
were told that on most days we could find him here if he wasn’t at home,” he
said.
    “He wasn’t home,”
Charlie/Charlotte added.
    “That’s obvious,
Charlotte,” her husband said, dismissing her comment. “Otherwise we wouldn’t be
here looking for him.”
    “Who told you
that?” Brie asked her bottom lip starting to tremble. “Who told you that’d he
be here?”
    “He did, of
course,” the man’s answer was almost indignant.
    Then you could
almost feel the shudder that came in a wave from the guests eating in the
dining room.
     Renmar walked
into the foyer. She’d evidently been listening to the conversation. “Cousins?” She
stood with perfect posture, her nose slightly tilted in the air. Invading his
personal space, she stood defensively, her eyes darting from one to the other,
she sized up the pair. “I didn’t know he had any cousins,” she said letting her
southern drawl take over.
    “We’re distant
cousins,” the man said. “Isn’t that right, Charlotte?”
    Charlotte nodded
her head.
    “We haven’t seen
him in about twenty years. Thought we’d come on out and pay him a visit,” the
man put on a smile, certainly a dubious one that showed bad teeth. “We’ll
probably stay at his beach house,” he said. “Once we figure everything out, but
we’ll just get a room here until then.”
    “I’m Renmar
Colquett,” she said. “This is my sister, Brie.” She pointed to Brie and then
over to Miss Vivee. “And our mother, Mrs. Pennywell. We own the Maypop. And we
were very good friends of Oliver’s.”
    “Were?” the man
said and lifted an eyebrow.
    “What’s your
name?” Renmar asked and turned an ear indicating she was listening for it.
    “Oh, excuse my
manners,” he said and let out a hearty laugh. “I’m Ron Anderson.” He stuck