Frappes, Flamingos, and a Fireman (A Charlotte Ritter Mystery Book 2)
Page 10
We read the signs, listened to a brief lecture, and stared in awe at the large Emperor penguins. A few steps down, and we could watch the penguins swimming under the water. It was quite a sight.
“Maymay, I’m thirsty,” said Tommy. “I think we should get a drink to warm up.”
Alas, the first request for soda had arrived. We were, however, ready to escape back to the Florida sunshine. After getting Tommy’s drink and browsing around some shops for a few minutes, we wandered over to the manatee area. We were quietly observing the manatees when Tommy started acting upset.
“Holy roosters!” he shouted.
“What’s the matter, Tommy?” Carrie asked before I could.
“What are these creatures?”
“They’re manatees. We’ve talked about them before. See, they’re calm and gentle. Nothing to be afraid of.”
“But, that’s not what we came to see! I don’t want to see man-a-thees. I want to see mermaids!”
Joseph blurted out a laugh. “There’s no such thing as mermaids, Tommy.”
“But, but…I thought you said mermaids!”
“I’m so sorry, Tommy. I didn’t know you thought that. We never mentioned mermaids, buddy.”
“Oh, man. That’s just terrible. I’m going to need another drink to help me calm down and not worry about mermaids.”
At that moment, I realized how clever this kid really was. Well played, son. Well played.
Late that afternoon, on our way home, Joseph and I sipped on frappes while Carrie stared out the window in anticipation.
“Slow down, mom. Her house is coming up.”
I slowed down and we glided past Ginny’s house; her yard still filled with plastic flamingos, and Ginny standing in her driveway looking at them in disgust. She had obviously just arrived home to her new flock. The kids and I laughed hysterically and I honked my horn and waved as we drove by.
“I love it when a plan comes together,” Carrie said, giggling.
Thank you for reading Frappes, Flamingos and a Fireman.
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You can find other books by this author at
www.alyssahelton.com
The following is a sneak peak, one-chapter preview of book three of the Charlotte Ritter cozy mystery series:
Mocha, Mermaids, and a Murder
MOCHA, MERMAIDS, AND A MURDER
CHAPTER ONE
EVER since our trip to Sea World, Tommy had been fixated on his disappointment over the fact there were no mermaids. For Tommy, one aspect of his Autism was obsessing over specific situations or things. Forget that he had seen penguins, dolphins and killer wales! The kid had wanted to see mermaids, and we had let him down. He watched episodes of SpongeBob with mermaids, The Little Mermaid movie (and its sequel), and tried to steal his sister’s mermaid tail blanket on more than one occasion.
Unbeknownst to him, I had set aside part of my tax refund for a weekend trip to Weeki Wachi Springs; home of, guess what? Mermaids! It would only be around a three-hour drive, and I thought I might even let Joseph take a turn behind the wheel. Being a single mother to three kids had enough challenges. Getting Joseph out driving himself and running errands would certainly lighten my load. He had even volunteered to drive his little sister, Carrie, to softball practice. He thought he was gaining independence, but in actuality, he was becoming my ‘errand boy’. (Insert evil laugh here)
So, with the driving scenario decided, my next decision was when to tell Tommy about our trip. Too soon and he’d obsess over it and drive us all nuts. Too late, and he’d be anxious about the sudden change in routine. I finished stirring my hot cup of Starbuck’s, peppermint mocha, and took a sip. This kind of contemplation required caffeine. Large quantities of caffeine.
“Hey, Mom. Katie and I need to get together to practice our duet. Can she come over the next couple weekends?” Carrie asked, interrupting my train of thought.
“Sure, except there’s a few conditions,” I replied. “First of all, as much as I love hearing cello and violin, especially as well as you two play—“
“We will close the door and keep the volume down so we don’t annoy everyone with sour notes while we rehearse,” she quickly interjected.
“Well, as talented as you two are, I’m sure there won’t be many of those. Still, volume control is appreciated. The other condition is that you can’t meet up the weekend after next because,” I lowered my voice and paused to build anticipation. “I have a trip planned.”
“A trip? Where?” Carrie asked, excitedly.
“We’re going on a trip!” exclaimed Tommy, walking up behind me. The cat was out of the bag.
“First, we pack. Then we load the van. We have to drive a long ways, right?” Tommy questioned me, the following week…repeatedly.
“Yes, Tommy. It takes three hours. That’s roughly six Veggie Tales episodes. I’ve already told you all this.”
“I know. But, then we get to the place with the mermaids and green Sprite to drink…right?”
“You can have a Sprite while we’re there.”
“Okay, good. You’ll remind me when it’s time to leave?”
“Yes, Tommy. It’s still a week away. I’m sure you won’t forget.” I tried to answer without sounding snippy.
There’s only so many times you can repeat the same answers to the same questions without getting a little agitated; especially at seven in the morning. Job may had been the biblical example of patience, but I bet he never parented a child with Autism. Friends sometimes questioned the amount of coffee I consumed, but once they spent some real time with Tommy, they quit passing judgment.
I poured myself a second cup and scanned the dates on my planner. I had a meeting for parents of the Senior graduating class at Joseph’s school. Carrie had her middle school orchestra spring performance that Friday, and Tommy had an appointment with his psychiatrist. It was going to be a busy week. Fortunately, my job at the Baker Family Law Firm as a research assistant provided me with some flexibility. The Bakers had a nephew with Autism, and Mr. Baker rewarded my hard work with the ability to work from home when needed. Besides, I had helped the police catch the arsonist that set our office on fire just a few months ago. That had to be worth a couple of half-days off. As I grabbed a pen to jot down a grocery list, my cell buzzed with an incoming text.
Please come straight to the office. Issue with Ginny. I’ll make entire pot of coffee the way you like it.
The message was from Cole, my dear friend and co-worker. He was a large, bald, muscular man that exuded intimidation…until you got to know him. Then, he was the proverbial teddy bear. I wondered what Ginny was doing to get on his nerves. She was a part-time paralegal that was supposed to lighten Cole’s work load, but instead she flaunted her husband’s six-figure income and gave speeches about the benefits of dermabrasion and yoga. God was using her as my “thorn in the flesh” to complete an inner work in me. I kept trying to talk God into using a different tactic, but He apparently wasn’t listening.
I hollered for the kids to hurry and to not forget anything, and checked to ensure three pairs of shoes awaited them by the door. We actually left on time, and I skipped the drive-thru for a third cup of coffee; trusting Cole would make good on his promise.
I walked into the building, and could hear a woman’s shrill voice speaking excitedly in Mr. Baker’s office.
“Ginny?” I asked Cole as he pushed a fresh and hot cup of coffee into my hand.
“Yes! She got here early, all worked up about something, talking ninety-to-nothing and tossing stacks of files onto desks. I think she’s finally lost it.”
“Or she had a Red Bull,” I quipped.
Cole chuckled. “She isn’t just hyper. She’s upset.”
Just then, Mr. Baker’s office door burst open and Ginny stormed out.
“I’m sorry, but I have to go home. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I have to figure something out. I can’t work today. It’
s a good thing I don’t need the money from this little job because I just can’t…not today,” she ranted, her messy bun bouncing on top of her head, and her penciled-in eyebrows narrowed.
“Are you alright, Ginny? What’s got you upset?” I asked, trying to sound more concerned than nosy.
“It’s my manicurist! I have to find a new one, and I don’t even know where to begin. It’s just terrible. I can’t believe she did this to me!”
“Did what? What did she do?” Cole asked, overly-curious.
“She up and died!”
Cole and I stood in stunned silence for a brief moment, and then burst out laughing.
“Ginny, are you serious? You’re upset about having to find a new manicurist because yours died?”
“Yes! Why are you laughing? Death is a serious thing.”
“It is a serious thing, and that’s why we’re laughing at the ridiculousness of you implying she died on purpose just to make your life complicated!”
“Well, of course she didn’t die on purpose, but she could have at least had a plan in place so I wouldn’t have to search all over town for someone new! If she had just apprenticed someone or something, I wouldn’t be so upset.”
Cole shook his head as Ginny snatched her purse off her desk and left in a huff.
“That gal is a piece of work,” Cole commented.
“It was all I could do to not say anything while she rattled on,” admitted Mr. Baker. “Charlotte, could you help Cole today since Ginny is off…mourning?”
“Yes, Sir. No problem. But, this coffee is terrible, Cole. You owe me a mocha frappe or something at lunch.”
Cole sighed. “Fine, whatever. Let me show you this paperwork you can do for me.”
A half-hour and a stack of paperwork later, Mr. Baker knocked on my office door. “You won’t believe who I just spoke with on the phone.”
“Well, you’ve certainly peaks my curiosity,” I confessed.
“April Chen, who is the sister of May Chen, Ginny’s manicurist. Turns out, I put together her will back when I offered that service.”
“What?”
“Isn’t that a funny coincidence? I just reviewed the file, though, and I’m going to need your help locating some relatives who are mentioned in the will.”
“Locating people is my specialty,” I bragged.
“Right after getting into trouble,” Cole added, stepping inside my office. “Usually, those two specialties of yours go hand in hand.”
“Cole isn’t wrong,” Mr. Baker said with a muted laugh.
“I bet you can’t even work this case without finding some lead into a crime,” Cole challenged.
“What, this case? I’m just finding some relatives of a woman who died of a…says here, a heart attack. No big deal. No crime. No trouble.”
“Uh-huh. You’ll find something,” Cole said, smirking. “Bet you a box of K-cups.”
“What flavor?”
“Any flavor you want,” he replied. Now he was getting cocky.
“Fine. It’s a bet. Start looking for Gloria Jeans Butter Toffee flavor.”
**More to follow when Mocha, Mermaids, and a Murder releases!**
OTHER BOOKS BY ALYSSA HELTON
The Lion Tamer’s Daughter (Michael Tallen/Florida History series, book one)
The SugarKing ShortStop (Michael Tallen/Florida History series, book two)
Dogwood Alley (Dogwood Alley series, book one)
If the Crick Don’t Rise (Dogwood Alley series, book two)
Joy in the Morning (Dogwood Alley series, book three)
Coffee, Kids, and a Kidnapping (Charlotte Ritter mystery series, book one)
SamBoy Vs. the Closet Monster (SamBoy children’s series, book one)
COMING SOON
Homecoming: A Dogwood Alley Novel (Dogwood Alley series, book four)
Mochas, Mermaids, and a Murder (Charlotte Ritter mystery series, book three)
The Sergeant’s Son (Michael Tallen/Florida History series, book three)
SamBoy and the Cave Beast (SamBoy children’s series, book two)
(some titles are under Nikki and Keith Helton)