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

they knew each other but never spoke,” Jane Ann said.
    “Well, yeah—up until then they were like synchronized swimmers—every movement matched. Very weird.”
    They continued in silence, the uneven nature of the path requiring their full attention. Back at their campsite, they arranged their lounge chairs in the shade, and retrieved books and beverages from their campers.
    Donna sat down and gingerly removed her tennis shoes and socks. Her toes and heels sported several angry red blisters and she studied them with dismay.
    “I need my sandals,” she said, looking at her camper on the other side of the gravel road. “Nancy, would you mind? They’re right inside the door.”
    Nancy had just stretched out in a lounge chair with her book, but started to get up. Frannie, still moving her chair, said, “Stay there. I’ll get them.”
    “Would you untie Bugger, too, and bring him over?” Donna called after her. They all knew that Donna was the ‘high maintenance’ member of the group and that wasn’t likely to change, so Frannie just nodded.
    As she unhooked Bugger’s tether, she got a good look at the little trailer they had talked about earlier. It was boxier than American-made trailers and quite plain with a European-minimalist air about it. A small red pickup was parked near it but no sign of habitation. She led Bugger back and, after she handed Donna the sandals, tethered him to a nearby tree.
    “Could you get him some water, too?” Donna said, and as an afterthought, “Please?”
    The next hour passed with some dozing, some reading, and very occasional subdued conversation.
    Wheels crunched on gravel, and Rob and Ben rode back into the campsite. They stowed their bikes and helmets and joined the rest of the group.
    “You ride all the way to Newton?” Mickey asked.
    “Actually, we did,” Ben said. “We can go pretty fast when you guys aren’t holding us back.”
    “A little excitement on the trail, though,” Rob said. “Remember those twins we saw?”
    Frannie sat up, more alert, and Donna said, “What about ‘em?”
    “When we passed them coming back, they were in the midst of a shouting match,” Rob said.
    “Really?” Donna said. “What about? Did it have to do with that guy in the pie shop? What were they saying?”
    “We didn’t stop and ask if we could listen in on their conversation,” Rob said.
    “Oh, right,” Donna sat back, disappointed.
    “Rob wanted to,” Ben smiled.
    “So did you,” Rob retorted.
    “Well, we’ll never know,” Frannie said. “I think it’s time to start some supper.”
    Larry got up and assembled his swing-away grill—an ingenious arrangement with a grill suspended from a crosspiece on a single pole pounded into the ground next to the fire ring. Mickey added wood to the fire while the rest of the group brought the prepared dishes, brats, buns and tableware out of their campers. Rob and Ben took over cooking the brats.
    Several other units had pulled in and the campground gradually filled up. Children and dogs seemed to be everywhere, while their parents were occupied with getting food on the table, some simple, some elaborate.
    The group passed the bright-colored bowls and plates of food, while hungrily eying each offering. Frannie savored the juicy brats, a high-fat indulgence that she rarely allowed herself, as well as the marinated fresh asparagus, a wonderful strawberry spinach salad, and German potato salad. Mickey complimented her potato salad and then took a big bite of his brat, nestled in a bun and covered with mustard.
    “Ack!” he said, spitting it out into a napkin. “Terell! You did that!”
    Rob looked up, straight faced and innocent. “What?” Everyone else, looked at Mickey, puzzled.
    “What was that about?” Jane Ann said.
    Mickey opened the bun and held it out. “Plastic brat,” he said. “I knew Rob was a bad cook, but didn’t realize how bad.”
    The group erupted in laughter, and Larry leaned over and pounded Rob on