Patrice Lyle - Health Nut 01 - Killer Kung Pao Read Online Free Page A

gratitude, however, something odd happened.
    My cell phone belted out the chorus of "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun."
    I wondered if it could be Aunt Alfa calling to check in after her walk with Brownie. Goosebumps erupted on my arms when I glanced at the caller ID.
    It wasn't my auntie calling.
    It was Floyd.
    The man who apparently wasn't the one .

CHAPTER FOUR
    Give Me Chocolate, or Give Me Death
     
    I ignored the sudden pounding of my heart from what Babette had just told me and sat on one of the two chairs in my booth. "Hey."
    "Hi, Piper. How are things in Florida?" Despite our recent issues, he sounded happy to chat with me. 
    "My morning beach walk was nice and sunny. The ocean was pretty." I walked everyday to keep my energy up. Floyd was a fellow walker too, which was one cool thing about him.
    Because he was also a naturopathic doctor, we were in sync about most health stuff.
    "Did Brownie and Aunt Alfa go?" he asked.
    "No, Brownie doesn't like sand in his hooves, remember? So Aunt Alfa babysat while I went."
    He laughed as if we were a normal couple talking about my trip. "I tried calling you a few times this morning."
    "Really?" I didn't want to admit I was too busy battling with my hair to answer. He had never understood the despair a hair crisis could cause. "I must have put my phone on silent before we went to bed last night."
    He didn't respond.
    "You know how Brownie hates to be awakened by text messages." I laughed.
    He cleared his throat. "How's the show going?"
    "Not sure yet." I told him about the sign that said Psychic Fair , as well as Ming, Vesta and Babette.
    "They're at the show?"
    "Yes." I lowered my voice. "Isn't that weird?"
    "As long as you're introducing people to holistic health, I'm sure you'll be fine."
    As I glanced around the exhibit hall, I wasn't so sure. The hotel manager had let me in early last night to set up my booth because Aunt Alfa wanted to have dinner at a restaurant that offered an early-bird Szechuan chicken platter for five bucks if you were seated before four PM. I'd been the only one setting up at two o'clock (when other non-nonagenarians, such as myself, were at the beach), so I hadn't seen the other vendors.
    But I did now.
    Babette was next to me. The booth on the other side was still vacant so that was up for grabs. Garnett arranged voodoo dolls in her Psychic Aura Cleansing booth. A woman in a yellow turban and several strands of colorful beads was executing a tarot spread for a customer. And Charles sat in his scrubs in the corner booth (he must have won the rock-paper-scissor challenge) beneath a banner advertising, Charles, Psychic Surgeon at Your Service . Tiny scalpels speckled with blood garnished the edge of his banner.
    Honestly, the knives were overkill.
    "Holy chocolate babka, Floyd. I think the Internet information was wrong." Not that I objected to otherworldly stuff, but I'd thought this was a holistic health fair. "This is some New Age gathering. There are tarot readers and some guy claiming to be a psychic surgeon."
    "A what?"
    "Just what I said. A psychic surgeon." I pondered that one. "Maybe he cuts out bad auras? But how would he do that, and would there be blood involved?"
    Floyd chuckled, followed by a squeaking sound. Ah. He must be in his recliner. The pleather chair he'd insisted on getting because he was afraid Brownie's hooves might shred real leather. I couldn't have cared less what furniture—not that I owned any non-Goodwill stuff—Brownie destroyed as long as he was having fun.
    But Floyd had a long way to go in the piglet-parenting department.
    "It'll be fine. I think you're overreacting." His response was seriously lacking any supportive boyfriend flair. Just like always.
    Was Babette right?
    "Since when have you ever approved of anything New Age? You always say that metaphysical stuff gives doctors like us a bad name." He'd flipped out about Aunt Alfa joining my practice because he thought essential oils were hokey. "Why can't you be on