Down and Out in Flamingo Beach Read Online Free

was from the old school, and believed that if you couldn’t pay for something with your own cash you didn’t need it.
    Neither woman picked up, so Joya left messages. She was on her own, not that there was a large crowd queuing up to be waited on.
    Her first customer, a freckle-faced tourist in a straw hat with flowers and two toddlers clinging to the sides of her skirt, finally sauntered in around quarter to ten. The little boy, his mop of red curly hair sticking straight up, was sucking his thumb. The little girl grabbing onto the other side of her mother’s skirt lapped at an orange Popsicle. Joya shuddered. She was an accident waiting to happen.
    â€œCan I help you?” Joya asked, trying to smile pleasantly at the woman.
    â€œJust browsing.” The woman made a slow circle of the outer room, stopping to poke at the occasional quilt or pillow.
    It would be easier on her anxiety level just to let them roam around. Curiosity, and the desire to take her mind off the potential accident, caused Joya to pick up the small notebook where Granny J recorded the daily sales. She flipped through several pages and found nothing. At least nothing recorded for almost a week. Could Granny J be getting senile or simply losing it? She’d always been meticulous about writing down even the smallest sale, whether it was quilting thread or the materials she sometimes sold for quilt-making.
    Harley returned with her coffee just then, and Joya put aside the notebook to look at later. Chet returned to the flower shop; having done his duty he wanted no part of her.
    They’d butted heads a time or two, once when Joya had parked in front of their store. She’d only meant to run in to Joya’s for a minute or so, but then she’d ended up helping Granny J with something or another. Chet had come out of his shop and loudly pointed out that this was a pedestrian-friendly street, yet it was ironic that he and his partner had done exactly the same thing this morning. It was always one thing or another. What was good for the goose was not good for the gander.
    The mother and her two kids left, promising to return after a trip to the ATM. A few locals came in, browsed and departed. More tourists trickled in, but it was already late morning and so far not one sale.
    Close to eleven o’clock, LaTisha skated in, sputtering apologies.
    â€œWhere’s Granny J?” she asked, looking around the room as if she expected the old lady to materialize from a corner. Realizing that it was Joya she had to deal with, she smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, I had a flat tire. Ed at the service station couldn’t get to it until now.”
    Joya glanced at her watch pointedly, “And you couldn’t call? I left a message on your answering machine when you didn’t show up when you were supposed to.”
    â€œGranny J doesn’t have a problem with me being late,” LaTisha said rudely.
    â€œBut I do, especially when I don’t know what’s going on. By the way, Granny J’s not going to be in for a while. She’s in the hospital. When she’s released she’ll need time at home to recuperate.”
    â€œBut she was fine the last time I saw her.”
    Not, How is she? What can I do to help? Nothing.
    â€œI’ll need your help rearranging a few items,” Joya said, changing the topic. She picked up some quilts from the bed and draped them on a divan that, wonder of wonders, held nothing.
    â€œI’ll help you as soon as I get back from getting coffee.”
    â€œI need help now. Where’s Deborah? Has she been in touch with you?”
    â€œI don’t keep track of her comings and goings,” LaTisha answered sulkily. She accepted the quilts Joya handed her and stomped off.
    Joya was suddenly conscious of the man hovering at the front entrance. His energy was electric. It reached out and zapped her. Derek Morse stood at the doorway taking in the scene, aviator glasses