Rip Tide (A Ripple Effect Cozy Mystery, Book 2) Read Online Free PDF

get along by myself, he picked up speed and was soon wading side-by-side with Rip, who had forged ahead as Milo assisted me. I was carrying a fishing pole, and had a hand net, a bait bucket, and a stringer to put the fish on, attached to the fishing belt. I felt weighed down by all the pricey but, according to Rip, necessary, wade-fishing accessories I was dragging around.
    A few minutes later, I was in water up to the top of my thighs. I had absolutely no desire to get into even deeper water, so I decided to tack in a different direction. I was hoping to find shallower water which, thankfully, I quickly did.
    When I arrived at the general location Milo had pointed to, he hollered loudly enough I could just make out what he was saying. "Right there's a good place to start! Make sure you scoot your feet as you wade around in the water so you don't surprise a stingray and get stung. They have sharp barbs on their stingers and are difficult and painful to get out of your leg."
    Seriously? Now you tell me that? I was beginning to feel a sense of dread, as my mind filled with visions of Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter, who'd died from a stingray's barb imbedded in his chest. Rip and I had always assumed it'd be a huge croc that'd take him out.
    Instead of responding with the first caustic remark that came to mind, I tried to still my jumpy nerves and shouted back, "Swell. Now please stop pointing out every conceivable way I could get injured—or worse—today. Just tell me what I need to do next."
    "Bait your hook and cast it out toward one of those light greenish areas. Those are the potholes I was telling you about. If you feel a tug, wait a few seconds and pull the rod back forcefully enough to set the hook. I already sat the drag on your reel, so just fight the fish, reel it in, net it, and put it on your stringer. That's all there is to it!" Milo's voice reverberated across the surface of the water, which had small ripples due to a slight breeze. I had to admit it was a beautiful day to be outside.
    My first order of business was to bait my hook, Milo had said. So I opened up my bait bucket and saw a dozen slimy mullet about five inches long, and an even larger number of medium-sized shrimp darting here and there. When I opened the lid of the bait bucket, two of the shrimp flew out unexpectedly, nearly causing me to lose my balance again. I couldn't decide which of my two choices seemed less icky to handle. Since the leaping shrimp had startled me and looked more menacing with their pointed snouts and black beady eyes, I chose the mullet.
    It took me at least forty-five seconds to snag a mullet. They swam faster than I could move my hand around in the bucket and were able to evade being caught until I finally trapped one against the bottom. I pulled it out and reached for my hook. As soon as I grasped my line, the slimy mullet slivered out of my hand into the water. I swear it sneered at me as it scurried away.
    It took thirty more seconds to capture another elusive mullet, only to have it spring free from my hand, as well. Finally, on the third attempt, I squeezed one of the little buggers so tightly its eyes were about to pop out of its head. I wasn't sure where to shove the hook in him and couldn't bear to watch such cruelty. So I just shut my eyes and forced it in. Opening my eyes, I discovered I'd hooked him squarely in the tail fin. I figured that'd work as well as any other place, and I didn't want to torture the poor thing any further. I couldn't bear to look the little feller in the eyes for fear I'd see the agony I'd inflicted.
    Now to cast. It was a complicated-looking reel, for sure. I recalled Rip instructing me to open the bail before I cast, allowing the line to fly freely out over the water. On my first attempt, the bail closed as soon as I began to cast the line out. My hook and lead weight splashed down and sank to the bottom about two feet in front of me, but not before my mullet broke loose and sailed