Real Women Eat Cake: A Yellow Rose Cozy Mystery (Yellow Rose Mystery Series Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page B
Author: K. P. Hilton
looking young woman wearing a wrinkled canary-yellow polo and shorts covered in grass stains crouched down, stood full length and threw away the trash, sighing in the process.
Yeah, well. We can’t all be NBA all-stars.
The LAKE TRAVIS sign shown bright as the sun's light reflected off its surface. Bungalow type trailers bordered the blue edges of the lake. People puttered around in small groups wearing cargos and sandals, but Martin was comfortable in his lace-ups. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d driven this far out of the city. Out here it was quiet. The kind of quiet where he could actually hear himself think. A few yards ahead he caught sight of the rental office, but the manager wasn’t inside. He backtracked, calling out to the woman picking up the trash.
“Any idea where I can find the guy who runs this place?”
She looked like she wanted to turn and go but answered the question anyway.
“Hold on for a second.” She raked the loose hairs falling into her eyes. “I’ll go get him.”
Martin looked around as he waited, taking it in. Though the thought of being out of range for cell phone service would give Betty the hives, he knew she would love the idea of sinking her toes into the chilly water out here as the sun rose, then strolling around edge of the water by nightfall. More than once, she'd recanted camping trips as a child with her father with great fondness.
The woman pointed at Martin, and the manager headed his way.
He waved. “I’m Karl Valdez, shift manager. Justine says you’re looking to rent a cabin. Got a couple that just left and – ”
Martin smiled, shaking his head. “I'm looking for someone who might be staying here.” Martin showed him his ID and explained why he was there. The manager spread his hands, not interested in saying much more.
“You’re going to have to be more specific. I’ve got people coming and going all the time.”
“Molly Sanders,” Martin said. “Think she may have checked in here Monday night.”
“The cabins are that way,” Karl said, glancing over his shoulder. “Up half a mile on that strip of land, going deeper into the woods. I’m sorry, if I had a date or something I could be more specific. Are you trying to chase down one of the guests staying here?”
“Maybe,” Martin said. “And she might still be here.” From the way he talked, it sounded as if the police hadn't visited the area yet.
Karl gestured for Martin to follow him, and they both walked toward the rental office. Everything about Karl gave Martin the impression that he liked keeping his head down – being distant. He had a slim build and a tight-faced expression. Made that much tighter with a stranger sniffing around asking questions and following a lingering scent. Edging behind his desk, he read through the reservations stored on his computer.
“Sanders, Molly,” he read at a plod. “She checked in late Monday night. Got lucky with a cancellation. Arrived alone.”
“What cabin is she in?”
“Was in 120A. Gone now.” A noise came from up front. A family of three wanting to check in. “Excuse me,” Karl said, getting up. “Customers.” The word 'paying' was implied, though not stated.
Martin looked over at Justine. She busied herself by tying her hair in an unkempt topknot. As he watched her, it struck him that Karl had no clue what went on in this place. But the workers – they knew. He edged over to Justine, curious to know her story.
“I’m sorry about earlier. What can I say? I need to work on my layup.”
“Uh huh,” she said, tilting her head in the opposite direction. Her shirt snagged on a potted flower, tipping it and spilling soil onto the floor. She cursed under her breath as she cleaned up the mess.
“Look, I have to get back to work. I’ve got bathrooms after this.”
Martin nodded and decided on a new strategy.
Chapter
Yeah, well. We can’t all be NBA all-stars.
The LAKE TRAVIS sign shown bright as the sun's light reflected off its surface. Bungalow type trailers bordered the blue edges of the lake. People puttered around in small groups wearing cargos and sandals, but Martin was comfortable in his lace-ups. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d driven this far out of the city. Out here it was quiet. The kind of quiet where he could actually hear himself think. A few yards ahead he caught sight of the rental office, but the manager wasn’t inside. He backtracked, calling out to the woman picking up the trash.
“Any idea where I can find the guy who runs this place?”
She looked like she wanted to turn and go but answered the question anyway.
“Hold on for a second.” She raked the loose hairs falling into her eyes. “I’ll go get him.”
Martin looked around as he waited, taking it in. Though the thought of being out of range for cell phone service would give Betty the hives, he knew she would love the idea of sinking her toes into the chilly water out here as the sun rose, then strolling around edge of the water by nightfall. More than once, she'd recanted camping trips as a child with her father with great fondness.
The woman pointed at Martin, and the manager headed his way.
He waved. “I’m Karl Valdez, shift manager. Justine says you’re looking to rent a cabin. Got a couple that just left and – ”
Martin smiled, shaking his head. “I'm looking for someone who might be staying here.” Martin showed him his ID and explained why he was there. The manager spread his hands, not interested in saying much more.
“You’re going to have to be more specific. I’ve got people coming and going all the time.”
“Molly Sanders,” Martin said. “Think she may have checked in here Monday night.”
“The cabins are that way,” Karl said, glancing over his shoulder. “Up half a mile on that strip of land, going deeper into the woods. I’m sorry, if I had a date or something I could be more specific. Are you trying to chase down one of the guests staying here?”
“Maybe,” Martin said. “And she might still be here.” From the way he talked, it sounded as if the police hadn't visited the area yet.
Karl gestured for Martin to follow him, and they both walked toward the rental office. Everything about Karl gave Martin the impression that he liked keeping his head down – being distant. He had a slim build and a tight-faced expression. Made that much tighter with a stranger sniffing around asking questions and following a lingering scent. Edging behind his desk, he read through the reservations stored on his computer.
“Sanders, Molly,” he read at a plod. “She checked in late Monday night. Got lucky with a cancellation. Arrived alone.”
“What cabin is she in?”
“Was in 120A. Gone now.” A noise came from up front. A family of three wanting to check in. “Excuse me,” Karl said, getting up. “Customers.” The word 'paying' was implied, though not stated.
Martin looked over at Justine. She busied herself by tying her hair in an unkempt topknot. As he watched her, it struck him that Karl had no clue what went on in this place. But the workers – they knew. He edged over to Justine, curious to know her story.
“I’m sorry about earlier. What can I say? I need to work on my layup.”
“Uh huh,” she said, tilting her head in the opposite direction. Her shirt snagged on a potted flower, tipping it and spilling soil onto the floor. She cursed under her breath as she cleaned up the mess.
“Look, I have to get back to work. I’ve got bathrooms after this.”
Martin nodded and decided on a new strategy.
Chapter
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