Page 23 of Snowbirds
“Those frogs, man. They’re twisted, but I swear the ladies snap ’em up. They sell like hot cakes when he has new ones. People think they’re the funniest things they’ve ever seen.”
“He doesn’t sell the stuffed animals? The taxidermy?” Chris clarified.
The popcorn guy didn’t answer immediately. He squeezed one eye shut, his gaze shifting back and forth while he considered the question.
“Not as far as I know. Leastways, not here at the market.”
Ivan was tempted to push for more but something made him hesitate. Instead, he asked again, “And he hasn’t been around lately?”
“Nope.” The man shook his head. “Like I said, not for a while.”
“Thanks for the information,” Chris said, getting ready to turn away.
“We’ll take a small bag of corn,” said Ivan. “Nah, make it a medium.”
The vendor’s grin was missing several teeth but it was bright. Quickly and efficiently, he filled a bag and handed it over. Ivan slipped him a twenty.
“We appreciate you talking to us. Don’t worry about the change.”
Opening the bag, Ivan held it out toward Chris as they continued making their way down the aisle of booths.
After hesitating for a second, Chris dug in and took a handful, popping it into his mouth.
The popcorn vendor had been the third person they’d talked to, and the consensus was that Cleevus Buckley being MIA at this time of year was not normal. If it had been summer, people might not have noticed, but this was just the beginning of high tourist season. Spring training was coming up and Buckley was not out hawking his wares.
“Wow,” said Chris around his crunchy treat. “This stuff is amazing.”
“You’ve never had kettle corn before?” Ivan asked.
“Nope.”
“Well, keeping hanging around with me, and I’ll make sure you try all sorts of new things.”
Chris shot him a grin. “Promises, promises.”
Ivan mentally replayed what he’d just said. “I didn’t mean—ugh.” Giving up, he shoved a big handful of the popcorn into his mouth so he wouldn’t say anything else stupid. However, if saying shit like that meant he got a grin out of Chris Hatch? Then he’d never stop.
“What made you ask about frogs?” Chris asked when he’d swallowed.
“Oh, yeah. When I got here yesterday, I noticed your buddy Frank has a masturbating frog in his front yard.”
“A masturbating frog? Seriously?” Chris’s voice rose. “And he’s not my buddy, I’ve never met the man.”
“Want to go check it out? I think we’re done here, don’t you?” Ivan knew Chris would be horrified by the self-pleasuring amphibian. Hatch wasn’t so much a prude as hyper focused on his work, causing him to miss the fringes—the lacey bits.
“Yeah, let’s get out of here. It’s starting to get hot. I have to say, this vacation I’m on is becoming more fun by the minute. Motorcycle gangs, taxidermy, masturbating frogs. What’s next?”
Ivan parkedBlue where he had when he’d arrived the day before, in the shadow of a large palm tree.
“It’s right there.” Ivan pointed at the terracotta amphibian clearly jacking off.
Chris peered out the car window. “Huh. You weren’t kidding.” He sounded amazed, as if he might have thought Ivan had been exaggerating.
“I never said I was kidding.”
“Yeah, I know that, but I’d kind of hoped you were.”
“Nope.” He turned off Blue’s engine and turned to look at Chris.
