Peete and Repeat (The Frannie Shoemaker Campground Mysteries Book 3) Read Online Free

passed on the path entered and walked to the counter. Under their cowboy hats, their chin-length blonde hair fell in soft waves framing their round faces, reminding Frannie of the women in the old “Beautiful Hair-Breck” ads both in color and texture—pale and very fine. They moved as one, and both placed their right elbows on the counter, ordering “Cherry pie, please,” in unison. The counter woman didn’t know for sure how to react, and with obvious effort kept her expression very neutral, but pleasant.
    The women carried their pie to an open table, slung their cameras on the right corner of their chair backs and seated themselves with identical movements. Uncanny.
    Mickey poked Frannie in the thigh. “Close your mouth,” he said with a grin, “your pie will fall out.”
    She did, and wiped the edges of her mouth with her napkin.
    “Don’t you think it’s kind of odd? How do they even do that?” she whispered back at him.
    “Habit, I guess. They must spend a lot of time together,” he said quietly.
    “Anyone up for going farther or are you all wimping out?” Ben asked the group.
    “Wimping.” “Wimping.” “Ditto.”
    “I’d go a little farther, “ Rob said. “What are we doing for supper?”
    “Brats,” Nancy said. “Simple, and we all brought sides ready to eat, so you guys have time to ride further if you want.”
    “What about you?” Rob said to his wife. “Do we need to go to the hospital?”
    “No, I’ll be fine,” Donna said. She touched her cheek, grimaced, and put on her bravest look.
    The front door opened again and a tall man decked in serious biking attire came in. Frannie was watching the twins’ synchronized actions, when the man in biking gear, having purchased only a bottle of water, (who does that in a pie shop?) turned just as one of the women looked up from their conversation. Her mouth dropped open and an anguished expression crossed her face. Her sister followed her gaze, but frowned and set her mouth as if gritting her teeth. It was the first difference between the two that Frannie had observed. The man, in turn, eyed them both, confused. He seemed about to speak but thought better of it, turned, and hurried outside.
    Through the front windows, Frannie could see him mount his bike and head off in the direction of Burdensville. She glanced back to the twins, oblivious to the conversation around her. The angry twin had recovered her equanimity and reached across the table to take her sister’s hand, apparently asking what had upset the other. The second shook her head and pulled her hand back, turned her head and covered her mouth. She seemed to regain her composure and returned to her pie, as did her sister. They didn’t speak until they finished, but occasionally each stole glances at the other.
    Very strange, thought Frannie. Something about the man shattered their years of habit and ripped them apart, like Siamese twins being separated, in the blink of an eye. Frannie loved a good mystery but didn’t see any way she would solve this one without being downright nosey. And while she wasn’t averse to subtly poking around for information, she could hardly ask complete strangers outright to explain such an odd relationship.
    “Hey, zombie,” Larry broke into her trance, “Ready to go?”
    She looked at her plate. Her pie was gone. How annoying—she had finished it without even enjoying it. She slid out of her chair and carried her plate to a bin of dirty dishes. They all trooped outside and readied their bikes.
    While Frannie strapped on her helmet, the twins emerged from the cafe, both looking very strained. They headed down the bike path toward Newton, not talking. Rob and Ben took off in the same direction, while the rest turned toward the bridge.
    Frannie pedaled along beside Jane Ann as they reached the gravel path on the other side of the river.
    “Did you watch those twins?”
    “You mean when that guy came in? Really odd, wasn’t it? Looked like