Escape Route (Murder Off-Screen Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

of sunlight bouncing off the Chesapeake. Where everybody lived was a mystery. Not a house or waterfront mansion in sight. “Who knows when those crazy crab fishermen go out? Let’s just shoot him and wrap him up good in the tarp. We can toss him in the trunk until morning, then buy a shovel when that store opens up. That place had everything in there.”
    “First,” Avery held up a finger, “it’s too early for crab season. Second, if anybody stumbles across the famous King’s body, you and I won’t have to worry about collecting the second half of the money. If you get my drift. Third, I am not returning a rental car with blood splashed in the trunk. The FBI would be all over that.” He pulled a plastic bag out of the pocket in the driver’s door. “I have some water and jerky. That’ll hold him overnight, so he won’t be howling or anything.”
    “Where we stayin’? I ain’t sleeping in the car with my bad back.”
    “What do you suggest? The park? There were benches.”
    “I saw a purple-and-pink house with a sign. Get a good night’s sleep, eat breakfast, buy a shovel, dig a hole, go home.”
    Avery knew he’d never be overworked or underfed, keeping company with Timmy, and since this part of a very bad day was his fault—purple house, here we come. “Let’s get going before it gets dark.”
    ~~^~~
    King watched the car get smaller. He scratched at the rope around his neck with his hind foot. It wasn’t too tight but he knew it was there. The Man who didn’t shout all the time put water in a kind of bowl, and piled up a short stack of skinny lengths of meat. He’d eaten those right off. They had a different taste and made his tongue sting. Delicious. Maybe when the Men came back to get him, there would be more.
    He stood on his hind feet for a better view but they were gone. The bright ball of light in the sky had gone, too, but the softer one glowed far over his head, so he figured he would sleep. Swimming had been fun.
    All in all, a pretty good day.

CHAPTER 8
     
     
    “You have not touched Ovation in two years, now you’re off to Puerto Rico.” Uncle Frank was in fine form. The waiter left. He guessed we’d be a while. “I thought you meant a day or two on the bay, not sailing half-way around the world.”
    “She’s taking the Intracoastal most of the way,” Aunt B said for the third or fourth time. “You two made that trip twice after she graduated high school. I’m sure Jaqie’ll be fine. And the boat is yar.”
    “You’ve been at those old movies again, woman. Nobody says yar . More to the point, the operative word—I was with her.” His pitcher of beer was an inch from the bottom. If we didn’t get a tub of shrimp and sea scallops and pots of butter in front of him soon, I’d have to bungee him to the roof rack for the ride home. “Is this because your friend, Buick—”
    “Jeep. His name was—is Jeep McBain.”
    “This Jeep McBain fella up and leaves and you fall apart just like with that fool of a husband. Jeep a boyfriend, not just a roommate?”
    “A roommate.” Uncle Frank meant well, but his Irish was a wire brush at times. “Jeep was a roommate who also became my best friend.”
    Aunt B cut into Uncle Frank’s spiel. “Of course he meant the world to you, sweet girl. His disappearance must still be so upsetting to you.”
    “Jeep gave my script to a friend of his at the studio. That’s how Manderley got picked up.”
    “A big hit it was, too,” she said. “You wait. Murder at Manderley will be nominated for an Oscar, and Ms. Keiser has you to thank.”
    “How can she thank her if Jaqie’s hiding in Oakley Beach?” Uncle Frank flapped his plastic bib at the waiter.
    “That’s why I’m going to Puerto Rico. Maddie bought an island. We’re going to work through a couple of ideas for another movie. She wants me to write it. She’ll direct, produce and star.”
    “An island, Frank. Ever hear of such a thing?”
    “How about an airplane? Ever