Death Rides the Surf (A Kate Kennedy Mystery Book 5) Read Online Free PDF Page B

the Rainbow Beach trailer park and tear it down to build yet another multimillion-dollar condo.”
    “I read about that,” Kate said. “And I’ve driven past there many times on my way to Palm Beach. The only trailer park in the county directly on the ocean. It’s been there for ages, right?”
    Myrtle nodded. “Almost sixty years, and some of them folks are the original owners. Damn shame what’s done in the name of progress. Anyway, Sam works with computers. Nice young man, not like that white trash, Claude Jensen, he hangs out with. That boy’s been in and out of one correctional institution or another since he was thirteen. The state of Florida should build Claude his own wing. He’s waiting trial for a DWI right now.”
    Good God. Kate wondered if Katharine’s surfing lesson was over. “Myrtle, do you know Jon Michael Tyler too?”
    “In a manner of speaking, I do. Hold the thought. The counterman’s waving me over. I’ll be back with those muffins in a sec, hon.” Her pink and gray uniform stretched tight across her fanny as she hustled toward the counter.
    Marlene arched her perfectly penciled-in left brow. “Myrtle’s probably one of Jon Michael’s grandmother’s talking skull’s clients.” Her tone combined amusement and disdain.
    Kate figured that Marlene, a woman who’d consulted fortune tellers, astrologists, and tarot card readers, shouldn’t scoff at talking skulls. As she’d done so many times for more than sixty years, Kate kept her opinion to herself. “I’m really worried about Katharine, Marlene. Will you keep an eye on her tomorrow? I have to go to Jane’s funeral up in Palm Beach.”
    “Oh, yeah, that stewardess who married a multimillionaire, just like the heroine of an old movie. I always wanted to be Doris Day, but who knew about Rock Hudson?” Marlene sighed. “Of course I’ll watch our girl, Kate. The more I hear about these surfers the more I think Katharine’s in over her head.” Her sister-in-law’s water metaphor made Kate even more nervous.
    “Here we go.” Myrtle placed two blueberry muffins the size of melons on the table. Kate shuddered at the calorie count, but figured she wouldn’t eat at the picnic. Skipping dinner was one of the few perks of life without Charlie.
    “So, what about Jon Michael?” Marlene asked Myrtle the question before Kate could. That happened a lot.
    “Well, I’m a client of Florita Flannigan, his grandmother.”
    Marlene managed to kick Kate under the table while taking a bite of her muffin.
    “The skull and I were old souls together. Romped through the Renaissance.” Myrtle tapped her index finger against her double chin. “You two girls should make an appointment. There’s always a real long wait to meet Mandrake, but me being so close to the family, I’m sure I could get you in. Maybe next week.”
    “Why don’t you do that, Myrtle?” Kate said. “And as soon as possible. I really want to meet Florita Flannigan.”
    “I understand Jon Michael’s a friend of Claude’s,” Marlene said.
    “Right,” Myrtle said. “All four of them surf together. Like I say, Sam’s a good guy. And that Roberto’s a charmer. I think Jon Michael’s a sweet kid, but the skull has revealed to me and Florita that her grandson is courting disaster. I figure it must be connected to some scheme of Claude’s.”
    Courting disaster. And courting Katharine? Kate shoved the muffin away.

Nine

      
    Marlene hadn’t had any time alone with Katharine. She worried about what the girl knew and how she’d gotten her information. Of Marlene’s many past peccadilloes, the one she absolutely never wanted Kate to ever hear about was that four-martini fling with Charlie. As she stirred green peppers into her macaroni salad, she plotted how she could get Katharine alone and question her. Delicately, of course. Hah. When had she ever been delicate either in appearance or approach?
    Because of the unpleasantness—Mary Frances’s euphemism for the