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    Pary Barry & John- The Body Drop: PB & J, #8
    Pary Barry & John- The Body Drop: PB & J, #8
    Pary Barry & John- The Body Drop: PB & J, #8
    Ebook72 pages1 hour

    Pary Barry & John- The Body Drop: PB & J, #8

    By Kamaryn Kelsey

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    About this ebook

    Pary's in trouble again. This time two bodies drop out of the back of her van. Her neighbor John has the misfortune of being dragged into another of her misadventures... because he ran over the bodies. So it's another trip to the police station for questioning, one of Pary's least favorite places to be.

    When Pary's picture hits the news, her boss puts her current job on hold. What's an average-looking, over-imaginative, trouble magnet like Pary to do with time on her hands and her van seized as evidence? Grab handsome John as a driver, and go looking for the answers, of course.

     

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherKamaryn Kelsey
    Release dateMar 14, 2017
    ISBN9781386563983
    Pary Barry & John- The Body Drop: PB & J, #8

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      Book preview

      Pary Barry & John- The Body Drop - Kamaryn Kelsey

      This is a work of fiction. Names, places, and events are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to real people, places, or events is purely coincidental.

      This is not a standalone book.

      Chapter 1

      John, I'm being followed, Parody Hope Barry, (AKA Pary or PB) whispered under her breath to her neighbor, John Smith, as they crossed the street from their Garden Square apartment building to the parking garage. Pary always wondered what hopeful idiot named the brick building that was neither square, nor even near a garden. Maybe she'd look into it someday, when she had nothing else to do. Today, however, she had important things on her mind. Like the guy on her tail.

      You're being paranoid, John replied.

      You would be too, if you were being tailed. I'm not kidding, she insisted.

      You never are, he grumbled. So who is it this time? Angry theater goers, the cashier at the thrift store?

      Pary grabbed John's arm and steered him behind a column. He watched with amusement as she poked her head out at random, trying to spot the person following her. She reached up and shoved John's head past the column. See? Right there!

      Are you referring to the kid who just spit his gum at a passing car, or the guy who's staggering home after blowing his paycheck at the bar?

      Pary stuck her head around the column. Rats! He must have spotted me!

      John's brow went up. And that surprises you? I thought you said he was following you.

      Don't be obtuse, John! He spotted me spotting him! That's why he disappeared. She turned to John, hoping to convince him that she wasn't crazy. It was going to be a hard sell. Pary looked normal. She had light brown shoulder length hair, dark gray eyes, a few freckles, and was an average size. But John realized that on the inside she definitely was not normal. Even she would admit to a small amount of crazy, but just enough to be interesting, not enough to be committed. John felt otherwise.

      I can prove it to you, she insisted. Take a ride with me and I bet even you can spot the tail.

      John snorted insultingly. I'm not riding in that death box you call a van, even if I'm being shot at. I have no wish to die from asphyxiation.

      John, the smell isn't from the van's exhaust. It's just air freshener spray I used to cover that leftover half eaten egg salad sandwich I forgot to take out when I was on a stakeout a week ago. And possibly a tuna sandwich from the week before. John looked disgusted.

      It can happen! she told him.

      Only to you, he retorted. I don't have time for your games, Pary. Frank needs me at the office right away, he lied. Which means you're on your own. Hey, why don't you invite your invisible tail for a ride in your minivan? Maybe the 'cleaning fumes' will overcome him and you can frisk him for ID.

      You're no help, she told him. Do you know what you are? You're skeptical, John. And pessimistic. I don't know why I bother trying to help you.

      John choked with laughter. "You're helping me? Didn't you just pull me behind that column to look for your imaginary follower?"

      Fine. Don't believe me. One of these days you'll be sorry, she threatened.

      You keep promising, and I keep waiting, he laughed as he climbed into his car and locked the doors. He knew if he didn't, she would soon open the passenger door and climb in. She tried, and after finding the door locked, she knocked on his car window. John pulled out his cell phone and waved it at her. Then he dialed a number.

      Her brows dropped, and she went to her minivan. John Smith, her handsome and hot neighbor, was a real pain sometimes. Like today. That tall stature, his brown eyes and dark brown hair with a few grays, put together in one delicious package wasn't making her smile today. It would serve him right if he found nails in all four tires of his car. That thought made her smile.

      She coughed at the odor that emerged when she opened her van door. Maybe John was right, or maybe her van just needed a good airing in the sunshine with all the doors open. It didn't smell like cleaner or exhaust... or even a spoiled sandwich. It just smelled! Pary shrugged and climbed in. Smelly or not, it was her only transportation.

      John's phone call must have kept him, because she passed his still parked car as she headed to the exit. After she passed him, John's car pulled out, and he was behind her. Pary's mind whirled with mean ideas. At the exit she stopped to wait for a clearing in traffic. While she waited, she jammed one foot on the brake and the other on the gas pedal. Black smoke from her roasting tires blew back at John's vehicle. Pary chuckled with glee as she looked

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