The Haunted Beach (Tropical Breeze Cozy Mystery Book 4) Read Online Free Page A

pictures of?” he asked ungrammatically, since he wasn’t writing at the moment.
    Peggy sighed heavily. “I don’t know. You know how worried I’ve been about her. But I don’t like the idea of getting Ed involved. He’s a crackpot. He’s going to be wandering around the neighborhood at night recording all of us with his infrared camera.”
    “He can hardly record us if we’re asleep in our houses behind locked doors. Anyway, I, for one, am fascinated, and I intend to find out what he’s doing.”
    “Oh, Parker, don’t. Leave him alone.”
    “What’s the matter? Usually you’re interested in everything that goes on around here. And you like his TV show.”
    “It’s good for a laugh, that’s all. And Porter is adorable. But this is real, Parky. This is people we know. I don’t like this going on in our own neighborhood.”
    “I see. You think it’s a barrel of laughs when it’s somebody else’s gibbering revenant, but when it’s your own former neighbor, it’s ‘Not in my back yard.’”
    “I can take a joke as well as the next guy, but there are no such things as ghosts. And I still say Ed is a crackpot.”
    “That doesn’t mean he won’t get results,” Parker pointed out.
     
    “You can’t tell anybody about this,” Rosie said to Claire Ford an hour later.
    “Then don’t tell me,” she answered coolly.
    Some people, the twins thought in tandem, were just too wrapped up in themselves to be human. Who wouldn’t want to be let in on a secret? Especially one about folks in their own neighborhood? People they actually knew?
    Claire Ford’s house was going to take a little longer than the previous two, because it had a second floor. Being the second house from the ocean, it had a view, and the master bedroom, living room, dining room and kitchen were on the second floor, with balconies on the north and south to take in the view. On the ground floor were the garage and a pair of jack-and-jill bedrooms, which the twins hit quickly on the way out. They only needed dusting. Claire was new to Santorini, and she hadn’t had company yet.
     
    “That woman’s not flesh and blood,” Rosie groused as they finished and left the house. They walked down Claire’s driveway and opened the doors of their van. “She doesn’t even look real sometimes. Ashy blond hair, pale green eyes -- almost no eye color, in fact -- ivory white skin and spidery fingers.”
    “Spidery?” It wasn’t often that Poppy didn’t understand what her sister meant.
    “You know, fluttery little fingers and little tiny hands, too small to be useful. If she did a day’s work like we do she’d collapse and die.”
    That part Poppy understood. “You got that right. Come the zombie apocalypse, she’ll be no practical use at the survivors’ camp. We’ll just have to cook her and eat her while she’s fresh, before the zombies get her.”
    Rosie chuckled evilly. They were big zombie fans.
    They stashed the tools of their trade in the back of the van, then got the cooler out of the backseat and took their sandwiches out. It was time for lunch.
    Settled comfortably in the front seats with the doors open to catch the ocean breeze, they popped the tops on their Cokes, unwrapped the smoked turkey and cheese sandwiches on Kaiser rolls, and broke open a large bag of kettle chips, arranging it in the well of the console between them.
    “Dead to the world,” Poppy said, not needing to explain that she was still talking about Claire Ford.
    “And with looks like hers, what a waste!”
    “If I looked like Kim Novak, I’d know what to do with my assets. I wouldn’t walk around all day looking hypnotized.”
    “Well,” Rosie said grudgingly, “she is a widow. And the husband popped off not too long ago, right?”
    Her sister nodded, chewing. “Right after they closed on the house. They were supposed to move into it together and he didn’t make it. Heart attack. Sad. Still, she’s not getting any younger. Fifty if she’s a