Dune to Death Read Online Free PDF Page B

they could see two people standing very close together.
    â€œWhat on earth…?” Judith rocked on her heels. “Are we being burgled?” she asked, lowering her voice.
    â€œI don’t think so,” answered Renie, whose distancevision was better than her cousin’s. “Look—they’re, uh, hugging.”
    â€œIf I want to see anything far away, I have to get up closer,” said Judith, moving carefully but purposefully toward the cottage. Within six feet of the window, they ducked down, trying to conceal themselves behind the rhododendrons, azaleas, and Oregon grape which grew in a border against the house. “Egad,” gasped Judith, “it’s our landlady!”
    â€œWho’s she landed?” Renie whispered back.
    Judith peered through the shrubbery. “I don’t recognize him. It’s not the guy I saw at the boathouse this afternoon.”
    â€œWhat guy?”
    â€œNever mind that now.” Judith felt her short, frosted black hair get caught in the spiny Oregon grape. Mrs. Hoke and the man who held her in his arms were profile-to-profile, apparently exchanging affectionate words. “I feel like a window peeper,” Judith said under her breath.
    Renie was kneeling on the ground, now damp with dew. “He looks a lot younger than she does. But I guess older women and younger men are all the rage. I knew I should have tried to seduce Dooley on his paper route.”
    Judith motioned for Renie to shut up, but the couple had disappeared into the kitchen, arm in arm. “Great,” muttered Judith, still trying to extricate herself from the Oregon grape. “Now what do we do, go for a ride?”
    The idea didn’t strike Renie as particularly strange. “We could get root beer floats,” she suggested, making a pass at wiping off her linen slacks. “Hey, it’s not eleven o’clock yet.”
    â€œWell—maybe,” Judith said dubiously. “This isn’t exactly the Big City, you know.” Walking over to unlock the MG, she saw two cars that she hadn’t noticed earlier parked out at the edge of the road next to the black van. One was Mrs. Hoke’s Buick; the other was some sort of four-wheel drive. Since Pirate’s Lair was squeezed in between the resort and the motel, people tended to park everywhere in the cul-de-sac.
    â€œThat’s nervy,” Judith complained as she backed out the driveway. “I mean, it’s her house and all that, but she shouldn’t be bringing her boyfriend over for the evening. I should have known there was something flaky about this place.”
    Renie gave a shrug. “Thirty minutes and one root beer float apiece and they should be gone. If not,” she said composedly, “we’ll roust them. Just because one-half of the honeymoon is in traction doesn’t mean you don’t want to use the cottage.”
    â€œRight,” agreed Judith, driving up the short, steep hill that led to Highway 101. “Maybe Mrs. Hoke just came by to drop off some more stuff. She’s already been at the house twice today.”
    â€œNosy, huh?” Renie gave a little sniff. “Who was the other guy you were talking about?”
    Traffic was still fairly heavy on the highway, but most of the storefronts were dark. Judith drove slowly, though the car seemed to fight her every inch of the way. “It was nothing,” Judith said in dismissal. “There’s an old boathouse down on the beach that belongs to Mrs. Hoke. I doubt if it’s been used for years, but some man was hanging around there this afternoon. He’s probably one of the locals. In any event, he looked a lot older, at least as far as I could tell.”
    â€œWhich you can’t, without Dooley’s telescope,” noted Renie, then bounced in her bucket seat as she spotted a neon sign that read “Del’s Diner” dead ahead.
    Judith pulled off the highway and into