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Moth Busters, Dr. Prepper, Oral Robbers: Freaky Florida Mystery Adventures 1, 2 & 3

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by Margaret Lashley




  Moth Busters, Dr. Prepper, and Oral Robbers

  Freaky Florida Mystery Adventures 1, 2 & 3

  Margaret Lashley

  Published by Zazzy Ideas, Inc., 2020.

  Copyright

  Copyright 2019-2020 Margaret Lashley

  MargaretLashley.com

  Cover Design by Melinda de Ross

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  For more information, write to: Zazzy Ideas, Inc. P.O. Box 1113, St. Petersburg, FL 33731

  This book is a work of fiction. While actual places throughout Florida have been used in this book, any resemblance to persons living or dead are purely coincidental. Unless otherwise noted, the author and the publisher make no explicit guarantees as to the accuracy of the information contained in this book and in some cases, the names of places have been altered.

  Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  What Readers are Saying about the Series ...

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Chapter Sixty

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  Chapter Sixty-Six

  Chapter Sixty-Seven

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  Dr. Prepper

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Chapter Fifty Nine

  Oral Robbers

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two
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  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Chapter Sixty

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  Chapter Sixty-Six

  Chapter Sixty-Seven

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  Chapter Sixty-Nine

  Chapter Seventy

  Chapter Seventy-One

  Chapter Seventy-Two

  More Freaky Florida Mysteries

  About the Author

  Dedication

  TO MY BROTHER EARL, who exemplified all that is good and kind and true about the redneck spirit.

  And to “Florida Man,” who is all that is the exact opposite.

  What Readers are Saying about the Series ...

  “I READ A LOT, AND KINDLE suggested your book. This book is laugh out loud funny. Is everyone in Florida crazy? I have read Tim Dorsey, Carl Hiaasen, and Randy Wayne White. Those writers are funny but they need to watch out for you.”

  "A funny cozy, science fiction, thriller, mystery all rolled into one great story!"

  "I read the whole book in two days, something I’ve never done before! I just couldn’t wait to find out what was going to happen next!"

  "Margaret Lashley has a knack for creating funny, small town strange, off the wall, but so endearing type of characters."

  "If you enjoy laugh-out-loud comedy, this book is for you!"

  "Plenty of mysteries and slap stick humor with a backwoods redneck cousin thrown in the mix. I almost felt like I was reading a cross between Terry Pratchett and Piers Anthony."

  "The twists and turns of the story line kept me eagerly turning the pages to see what would happen next and kept me thinking as well. Loved the small town feel of the book and the very real to life characters. Great start to a new series!"

  Prologue

  THE MAJORITY OF SCIENTISTS believe there’s an elegant order to the universe. But then again, most of them have never spent any time in Florida.

  Sometime around 1987, the oddly shaped chunk of land dangling off the southeastern corner of the United States began to be overrun by a strange creature—a hominid who, prior to the invention of Google, had remained completely unknown to the human genome.

  He’s identified collectively as “Florida Man.”

  Exactly how, when, or why this subspecies first appeared in Florida is still highly debated. However, mainstream theorists agree on one point—the creature’s complex migratory behavior is typically prompted by “the forcible removal of his person” from his former place of employment and/or familial abode.

  Once freed from normal societal obligations, Florida Man’s primal urges, compounded by alcohol, old Jimmy Buffet songs, and/or warrants for his arrest, compel him to climb into an orange AMC Pacer with $23.46 in his wallet and keep driving south until he runs out of money, beer, gas, brain cells, land mass, or some tragically interchangeable combination thereof.

  Like any invasive species, Florida Man’s influence on the native population has been widespread and devastating. In fact, Florida Man has single-handedly changed both the state’s reputation and its constitution.

  Florida’s longtime moniker, “The Sunshine State” is soon to be replaced with “The W-T-F State.”

  In addition, due to the exponential increase in Florida Man’s bizarre behavioral tendencies, the state legislature is now considering a revision to the state motto, “Florida: In God We Trust.” Current proposed alternatives include:

  “Florida: Never Wear Pants Again!”

  “Florida: Stupors. They’re not Just for Breakfast Anymore!”

  “Florida: Sure, You Can Pay for that with a Live Alligator!”

  And my personal favorite, “Florida: Really, God? Really?”

  Florida Man has been caught on video surveillance tape burglarizing cars wearing nothing but a ball cap and a bra, dancing atop a patrol car to ward off vampires, breaking into homes to suck people’s toes, and shoplifting puppies with a python in his pants.

  And that was just last week.

  “Florida Man” is to the Sunshine State what the “People of Walmart” are to retailers—an embarrassing, unavoidable, yet morbidly fascinating source of revenue and perverse entertainment.

  As a native Floridian—and somewhat decent, law-abiding citizen—I thought I would remain immune to the plague of unchecked lunacy corrupting our once-fine state.

  But I was wrong.

  I didn’t go searching for Florida Man. But somehow, nevertheless, he found me.

  Or, at least, I think it was him ....

  Chapter One

  I WISH I COULD SAY I’d been doing something glamorous or heroic when the world as I knew it skittered off its axis. You know—saving a baby, cracking a drug cartel—that kind of thing. But the truth was, I’d been working security detail at a mall.

  I was Paul Blart Mall Cop—without even the lousy Segway.

  I’d been sitting on a bench outside the mall taking a coffee break when it happened. I spotted a guy in green crocs and tiger-striped hot-pants helping himself to a bicycle with the aid of a pair of bolt cutters. After spilling my coffee down the front of my shirt, I ran after him.

  Next thing I knew, I heard a bang.

  Then the lights went out.

  When they came back on, well, I couldn’t see it at the time, but my whole life had shifted trajectory. I was about to collide head-on with fate.

  Who knew it traveled around in a 1967 Winnebago?

  I got shot between the eyes on a Thursday afternoon by a freak packing a Saturday-Night Special.

  It wasn’t the first bad joke the world had played on me.

  I also had a bachelor’s degree in Art Appreciation.

  I WOKE UP IN AN UNFAMILIAR bed in an unfamiliar room. Everything was so ... white. And peaceful. And quiet.

  Either I’d died, or I’d been committed to a psych ward.

  I sucked in what felt like my first breath in ages. The place smelled like plastic. And disinfectant. And ....

  Fritos?

  Slowly, I turned my thumping head to the left. My cousin Earl was passed out on a vinyl recliner beside me. Atop his potbelly, a family-size bag of corn chips rose and fell in rhythm with his breathing.

  “Earl?”

  My voice sounded like it was underwater. A twinge of concern upped the volume in my throbbing head.

  “Earl?”

  Earl snorted himself awake, then glanced over at me.

  His eyes nearly doubled. He shot up out of his chair as if it were an ejector seat. Fritos flew everywhere.

  “Bobbie!” he shouted, then caught himself.

  Earl wasn’t one for outward displays of emotion. Not the caring kind, anyway. We’d been rivals for nearly thirty years. There was no point in him getting all sappy now.

  “You’re awake,” he said with a bit more reserve.

  “You’ve got a real knack for the obvious,” I cracked. My words echoed weirdly inside my skull. “What happened? Where am I?”

  “In the hospital. You got ... uh ... shot between the eyes.”

  Earl’s voice caught. He winced and slapped on a snide grin. But the tears brimming in his eyes contradicted his charade of callousness.

  Tears? Crap. That can’t be good.

  “I remember now,” I said. “There was that guy at the mall—the one in hot-pants .... He shot me?”

  “Yep.”

  I tried to sit up, but the IV tube in my arm protested against it. “How bad off am I?”

  “The good news is, your thick skull stopped the bullet. Lord knows you don’t need any more brain damage.”

  Either Earl’s humoring my dying ass or it’s not that bad.

  “Right.” The left side of my mouth atte
mpted a sarcastic smirk. “So what’s the bad news, Frito Bandito?”

  My cousin wagged his eyebrows. “Well, you’ve done got yourself one hell of a Kentucky waterfall.”

  “What?” I scowled and reached toward my head, pulling the IV tube along for the ride. My fingers landed on a tender lump in the middle of my forehead, then moved higher to the swath of smooth skin atop my partially shaved head.

  “Argh! Gimme a mirror!”

  Earl’s cheeks dimpled, but he kept his mouth shut and handed me the mirror lying on the table beside my hospital bed.

  I peered at my reflection. My face went slack. The top of my head all the way to my ears had been shaved bald. The rest of my long, auburn hair clung limply to the back of my skull like a greasy clown wig. I dropped the mirror onto my chest in disgust. “Ugh!”

  “Sir!” a woman’s voice sounded from behind Earl. “I told you to notify a nurse as soon as he regained consciousness! Are you in pain, Mr. Drex?”

  “That’s Miss Drex,” Earl said.

  “Oh. Pardon me.” The nurse looked down at the chart hanging at the end of my bed, apparently unconvinced.

  “No worries,” Earl said. “Common mistake.”

  As much as I hated to admit it, Earl was right. I’d never been the “girliest” of girls. My newly receding hairline wasn’t helping on that score.

  “How are you feeling?” the nurse asked.

  “Okay, I guess.” Considering the circumstances, I felt surprisingly good. Sure, my head throbbed. But it was no worse than the hangover I’d self-inflicted last weekend.

  “I’ll get Dr. Brown.” She shot Earl a raised eyebrow. “Sir, it would be good if you gave Miss Drex some privacy when he arrives.”

  Earl bobbed his shaggy head at her. “Yes, ma’am.”

  I studied my bear of a cousin. Despite his display of bravado, his brow had more furrows in it than a freshly plowed corn field.

  “It’s okay,” I said to the nurse. “Like it or not, he’s the only family I’ve got.”

  “As you wish.”

  As the nurse left, Earl’s cellphone chirped. He glanced at the screen and shoved it back into the pocket of his blue mechanic’s coveralls.

  “Who was it?” I asked. “A customer?”

  “We should be so lucky.”

  “How long have I been here?”

  “Three or four hours.”

  “Geez! Who’s running the garage?”

  “Uh ... nobody. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re both here.”

 

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