In this racket, a roscoe and good looks only get you so far — sometimes you need a disguise. So when I staked out the shipyards, I posed as an ice cream vendor. It was a sweet deal: clear view of the wharf and all the tutti-frutti I could eat.
My client, the shipyard owner, was frantic. Told me someone was stealing his tools and putting his crew behind schedule. But when I snuck into the tool shed, the goods were all there. Somebody was toying with me — and I had to find out who.
I stowed away on a dump truck heading to the quarry. It was a soft ride, but something told me things were about to get rocky.
I was right — it was Rocky Turtullo, my old nemesis. He flippered me off, so I flattened him with a right hook. “Cut the shell games, wiseguy!” I growled.
Will Hedges crack the case? Tune in for the next chapter at, um, some point.
It’s Barnaby again, from Christine L.!