Hit the Road, Jo!: Miss Fortune World: Wholly Moses!, #13

By Kamaryn Kelsey

Jo Jeffries is hoping for a quiet week to study for her upcoming real estate exam. Unfortunately, she can't even get a quiet night when midnight vandals make it clear she isn't welcome in Sinful. But who is trying to force her to leave? And why?

With Ida Belle and Gertie helping, Trixie hindering, Ross interrupting, and Carter interfering, Jo needs to find the culprit before she goes insane—or broke.

Authors note: This is Fan Fiction. It is not written by the original author, but by a fan who has special permission to create stories using the author's characters and locations.

Special thanks to Jana DeLeon and J&R Fan Fiction for making this possible.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J&R Fan Fiction
• Release date: Jul 11, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393085669

Book preview

Chapter 1

Jonah June Jeffries closed her book and rubbed her bloodshot eyes. Studying for her realty license exam while keeping an eye on Aunt Trixie had been a challenge. But in a few weeks the exam would be over and she could get back to normal—or what passed for normal in Sinful. With a yawn, she turned off the bedside lamp and closed her eyes. Tap. Jo rolled over and listened. It was quiet, so she shrugged it off. Tap. She sat up with a growl and stomped to the front door of her trailer, prepared to throttle the bratty neighborhood pest, Bart.

Zing!

What the hell? It wasn’t a knock that disturbed her. A blazing arrow shot through the dark night and stuck into the siding, right next to one whose flame had flickered out. Who’s shooting these stupid things at night? Jo yanked the fiery one out by its shaft and tossed it off the deck. Before she could make sure it was extinguished, another one speared the deck rail. She yelled into the night as more flames arced across the night sky. Jo hurried inside for her cell phone. By the time she returned, two more were stuck in the siding of her mobile home.

With one hand she dialed and with the other she yanked out the burning arrows and slapped the flames. Then an odd noise made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. It wasn’t just the noise that upset her. It was the fact that it was close to the trailer, possibly underneath, which made the wisdom of locking herself inside seem debatable. However, given the alternative, she decided it was the best choice. She scuttled inside with her phone and waited for the inevitable greeting.

Again? What now? Carter yelled. Why didn’t you call 911?

Stop being an idiot! she replied, moving a curtain to watch for more fiery missiles. Will you call the hillbilly hunters and tell them to knock it off?

He sounded crabby. Sleep it off, he suggested, but Jo didn’t hear him. She had dropped her phone because Trixie rushed down the hall, waving her phone and screaming.

I called 911! Trix shouted to Jo. She accidentally kicked Jo’s fallen phone, and it scooted under the sofa. Before Jo could retrieve it, she heard sirens blaring and knew by morning she’d be the latest gossip in town—again. By the time she found her phone, Carter had disconnected, so she gave it a dirty look and stepped outside to watch.

Jo sat on the porch stairs with her chin resting on her hands as the volunteer fire department finished dousing the little blazes in her yard. She glanced up when Carter’s tires crunched on the gravel drive as he slowed to a stop, his headlights flashing across Trixie, who was anxiously pacing on the deck behind Jo.

Well, well, he said as he got out and looked at the blackened deck railing beside her. Are you having a bonfire, Jonah? It’s illegal. You should have read the park rules when you moved in, he scolded.

Would those be the ones posted by the new management? she asked acidly. The fire chief cleared his throat, and she turned to him. WHAT? she snapped.

Uh, nothing ma’am. His men stood back and shuffled their feet while they waited for him. Finally, he offered Jo a sharp salute and beat a fast retreat. Carter heard the rumble of comments about her worn out T-shirt and raised his eyes.

Can’t you women afford decent nightwear? he asked.

What did you have in mind? Trix asked suggestively. Jo choked off a laugh and waited to see how he extricated himself from that one. I got sexy new nightgowns inside, Trixie continued. You just hang on and I’ll go change. She ripped through the door and Carter gave Jo an irritated look.

What happened out here? he asked. With a quick glance at the door, he added, Make it fast because I’m not inspecting her— He just shook his head in disgust.

I think the term you’re looking for is sexy gown, she snickered.

God, no! I’m not looking for that. There isn’t anyone in this park who could pull that—uh, what happened?

The lawn needed watering, and I didn’t feel like doing it, she replied. What’s it look like?

His flashlight crossed the siding, and he grinned when he saw the singed holes. The siding too?

She waved her arm. Apparently! Any other stupid questions?

That depends. Do you plan on making more stupid phone calls? he demanded. She scratched her nose with her middle finger and he chuckled.

If you’d be kind enough to tell the morons shooting arrows into my house to please stop, I’d be grateful, she said. Maybe even grateful enough to not call you again in the middle of the night. Who does this? She waved at the damage.

Most likely kids just having fun, he replied. But I’ll ask around.

Wow, am I ever glad I called you! she exclaimed sarcastically. There’s ten seconds of my life I’ll forever regret wasting.

Do you want me to dust these for fingerprints? He held up a dripping, flame scarred shaft.

Jerk.

Shrew.

Jo? Is Officer Cutie still there? Trix called from inside. I’m having trouble with the hooks on the lace. I might be awhile.

Carter’s eyes got big, and Jo’s lips curved into a malicious smile. He can’t wait! she yelled back.

You got that right, he muttered. I can’t! Next time don’t bother calling unless you have something worth reporting.

Like what? A burned-out shell of a trailer? she asked in disbelief.

Pretty much, he replied, heading for his truck.

Hang on! she called, remembering the noise she heard earlier. She jumped to her feet nervously and chased after him, skidding to a stop with a sheepish grin. Can I ask you something?

You just did. He opened his door, and she grabbed his arm with a hiss.

I’m not kidding. I need your help.

His brows dropped. "I will not tell your aunt she looks good in her nightie," he snapped.

Jo giggled and shook her head. Will you check under the trailer? she asked.

Spiders?

She closed her eyes and fought her temper. When she opened them, he was gone, and she heard him at the side of her house, pulling a piece of skirting to look underneath. Jo scampered over and hoped he had his pistol. She waited with her breath held, and he pulled his head out.

Nothing there, he announced as he put the skirting in place. I see some loose sections. He used the flashlight and illuminated the gaps. You should close those up before a skunk moves in.

Are you sure? Jo was puzzled. She didn’t have an excitable imagination, and she definitely heard something out of the ordinary.

You’re welcome to tempt fate, but don’t call me when one of them sees your aunt and feels the overwhelming urge to protect himself. Because I’d have to side with the skunk. Jo narrowed her eyes, and he snorted impatiently. Of course, I’m sure! He stormed to his truck muttering, Next time, why don’t you look yourself? Dirt flew as he drove away, and Jo wondered if the park owners went broke filling in potholes left by spinning tires. 

She shouted after Carter’s truck, And why don’t you—

Jo, where is he? Trixie fluttered past Jo in a long white gown straight from the cover of a gothic romance novel.

I’m afraid he had to leave, Jo replied as she took Trixie’s arm and walked her inside. Seeing her fallen face, she added, But he wanted me to tell you how sorry he was.

Trix’s face was wreathed in smiles. He won’t be sorry. It will be worth the wait, she promised. Jo agreed with her but not for the same reason.

***

By morning Jo wondered if she had dreamt the whole thing. But when Trixie shouted at seven o’clock that Jo had company and she peeked out the window, she knew it wasn’t a dream.

Hey, Trix. Do you recognize the women? Jo studied the two elderly ladies who appeared to be in the same age bracket as her aunt. Being wrinkled and bent didn’t prevent them from examining the damage of the previous night’s attack. One moved close to the siding, and Jo hoped she didn’t shove her finger into a hole.

Trixie looked out the window, then without warning, threw the door open. Meet my running crew, she told Jo.

What happened to Trudy and Wendy? Jo asked curiously.

They’re visiting their sister in New Orleans for the week. These are my newest friends, Edna and Louise.

The older women entered cautiously, and Jo wondered if they’d ever seen the inside of a mobile home. From the wary looks, she presumed not. But then one held out a cinnamon streusel, so Jo invited them to sit in the kitchen while she made coffee. As it brewed, she set out cups and asked the ladies how they had met Trix.

Edna giggled. We heard about the fitness center and,—her eyes