Too Much Stuff Read Online Free PDF

James, my partner, well, the two of us wondered how much you know about the history of property here in Islamorada. You know, where buildings were back in the thirties? Stuff like that.”
    “I’ve lived here all my life. Of course, I wasn’t around in the thirties—”
    “No, ma’am, I didn’t mean to infer that you were old or—”
    She laughed. “I’m older than you are, but not
that
old.”
    If the lady was over thirty-five, I’d be very surprised.
    “Well, we have some questions and wondered if you’d agree to sit down with us and maybe fill us in a little bit?”
    “Sure.”
    Just like that.
    “Well, would there be a charge?”
    “Are you thinking about coming down here? On a permanent basis?”
    I could detect amusement in her voice.
    “Do you mean like setting up shop here in the Keys?”
    I thought James was going to run off the road.
    “Sure. We’re considering it.”
    I watched him mouth the words, “Are you crazy?”
    “Then I’d be giving you some history of the Key in a professional sense. Giving you reasons to move your plumbing business down here.”
    “Yeah. You would.”
    “Plumbing is your business, right?”
    Clearing my throat, I stared out the window at the collection of stucco strip malls running by the ocean. My business was selling security systems to people who didn’t have anything to secure. James’s business was being a line cook at a fast-food restaurant. We were pretenders, pure and simple. As detectives and most certainly as plumbers. What were we thinking?
    “Sure. That’s our business.” I wasn’t sure
what
our business was anymore. And I suppose we were as well equipped to be plumbers as we were to be private investigators. What she didn’t know, couldn’t hurt us. Could it?
    “Okay, where do you want to meet?”
    “We’re staying at Pelican Cove Resort.”
    “I know exactly where that is. Right next to Holiday Isle. And Holiday Isle has three great bars.”
    Our kind of lady.
    “Well, why don’t we meet at the pool bar at Pelican Cove? We can start there and see if—”
    “And who knows,” she picked up the theme, “we may move the party next door later on.”
    Sounded good to me.
    “Half an hour?”
    “I’ll be there. Skip, was it?”
    “Yes, ma’am, and James is my partner.”
    “Please, don’t ma’am me. It’s Maria, okay?”
    “Okay, Maria.”
    I hung up the phone and looked out the window, catching the sideview mirror in my peripheral vision.
    “James, there’s a motorcycle back about two vehicles.”
    I could feel him staring at me.
    “Eyes back on the road, James.”
    The last thing I wanted was to have an accident in a strange town. We had a job to do and, as bad as the truck was, it was crucial to our transportation.
    He looked out the windshield. “There are thousands of motorcycles on the roads down here. What the hell makes this one so special?”
    “It’s a black Harley with a gold fender, and the rider has a dark helmet, facemask pulled down.”
    “Could be a coincidence.”
    “No.”
    My partner was quiet the rest of the trip, and we never lost sight of the Harley.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    Bobbie was at the pool bar, entertaining a man and woman who seemed to know her. They were laughing as she served them frozen drinks.
    “Hey, Bobbie.”
    The eighty-five-degree temperature and humidity smothered me as the frizzy-haired barmaid glanced my way, a puzzled expression on her face.
    “The usual,” I said.
    “Who are you?”
    So much for the previous five-dollar tip and three Yuenglings I’d had earlier in the day. I thought that resort bartenders catered to the tourists and got to know everyone by their first name and their drink. Of course, I could have been wrong.
    James came down from the room a couple of minutes later, winking at Bobbie. I glanced at her and she was winking back.
    “Hey, James,” she shouted, “cold Yuengling draft and some pretzels, right?”
    “Sure.”
    Hell, he didn’t even know her