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Scatman Dues

Freaky Florida Mystery Adventure, Volume 6

Margaret Lashley

Published by Zazzy Ideas, Inc., 2021.


Copyright 2021 Margaret Lashley


Cover Design by Melinda de Ross

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

For more information, write to: Zazzy Ideas, Inc. P.O. Box 1113, St. Petersburg, FL 33731

This book is a work of fiction. While actual places throughout Florida have been used in this book, any resemblance to persons living or dead are purely coincidental. Unless otherwise noted, the author and the publisher make no explicit guarantees as to the accuracy of the information contained in this book and in some cases, the names of places have been altered.

What Readers are Saying about Freaky Florida Mystery Adventures...

“The story lines are crazy, and all you want is more!”

“Hilarious, weird and entertaining.”

“The X-Files has found its funny bone!”

“I read a lot, and Kindle suggested your book. This book is laugh out loud funny. Is everyone in Florida crazy?”

“I have read Tim Dorsey, Carl Hiaasen, and Randy Wayne White. Those writers are funny but they need to watch out for you.”

“Not too many writers can make me laugh out loud, but Margaret Lashley is now officially on my short list of favorite laugh-out-loud authors. With witty sarcasm and stupid odd characters who make it so easy, I’m an official new fan.”

"A funny cozy, science fiction, thriller, mystery all rolled into one great story!"

"I read the whole book in two days, something I’ve never done before! I just couldn’t wait to find out what was going to happen next!"


In loving memory of Randall James Hamilton Zwinge, better known as The Amazing Randi. 1928-2020.

I hope you were wrong about life after death—and a couple of other things.

Table of Contents


What Readers are Saying about Freaky Florida Mystery Adventures...



Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Four

Chapter Forty-Five

Chapter Forty-Six

Chapter Forty-Seven

Chapter Forty-Eight

Chapter Forty-Nine

Chapter Fifty

Chapter Fifty-One

Chapter Fifty-Two

Chapter Fifty-Three

Chapter Fifty-Four

Chapter Fifty-Five

Chapter Fifty-Six

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Chapter Sixty

Chapter Sixty-One

Chapter Sixty-Two

Chapter Sixty-Three

Chapter Sixty-Four

Chapter Sixty-Five

Chapter Sixty-Six

Chapter Sixty-Seven

Chapter Sixty-Eight

Chapter Sixty-Nine

Chapter Seventy

Chapter Seventy-One

More Freaky Florida Mysteries

About the Author


I’m Bobbie Drex, and I have a confession to make.

Becoming a private investigator wasn’t exactly a profession I chose. At least, not intentionally—and certainly not while in complete control of my faculties.

If you want to know the truth, I’d been knee-deep in a vodka bottle when I’d ordered an online P.I. training course from a cheesy, late-night infomercial. I’d been even more out of my mind the next morning, when I’d sobered up and discovered the credit-card charges were non-refundable.

Fueled by frustration, stubbornness, and an inability to throw away hard-earned cash, I’d gone ahead and completed the course. I’d figured what the hell—it might’ve come in handy for my glamorous job as a part-time mall cop.

As it turned out, I never got the chance to find out.

A few days later, a ricochet bullet popped me in the forehead, putting an end to my glorious security-patrol gig. I’d returned home from the hospital with my head shaved, my health insurance cancelled, and my family’s auto repair business in the crapper.


The only bright spot had been finding my training course certificate in the mailbox. But after reading the fine print, that bright spot had turned as dark and unwelcome as a suspicious mole.

I’d discovered that, in and of itself, my new “Private Investigator Intern Certificate” was barely worth the paper it was printed on. In order to become a full-fledged Florida private eye, I’d also have to complete two years of on-the-job training with a licensed investigator.

(Insert expletive of your choice here.)

Anyway, I was wadding up the stupid certificate and hurling it into the bin when something even more aggravating happened.

An oddball named Nick Grayson showed up at my door.

The mysterious, green-eyed stranger sported a vintage fedora and a shiny private-eye badge—and he was on the hunt for two things.

One was repairs to his ratty old RV. The other was ... uh ... Mothman.

And he’d wanted my help with both.

At the time, I couldn’t tell if Grayson was a gift from the Universe or another sick joke at my expense. But back then, my life was so deep in the dumpster I’d decided to take him up on his offer.

I’d joined his weird crusade tracking down cryptids for cash.

As Grayson’s P.I. intern, I’ve spent the past seven months roaming the dirty backwaters of the Sunshine State in a rundown Winnebago—with a guy whose own human pedigree was as sketchy as the creatures we investigate.

If all that weren’t bad enough, we operate our research deep within the stomping grounds of Florida Man—where it’s doubly hard to tell a monster from a maniac.

Sometimes, it’s darn-near impossible.

They say hindsight is 2020. Well, let me tell you what. That infamous year’s got nothing on the unbelievable crap that’s gone down since I climbed aboard Grayson’s magical mystery motorhome.

Little did I realize, I hadn’t seen anything yet ...

Chapter One

I cracked open a sleepy eye and groaned. It was official. I was the only grown-ass woman in the entire universe who was “sleeping” with her boss—literally.

As in, “snoring-in-your-face, no-sexy-time” literally.

Worse yet, I couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Ever since my big lug of a cousin came and wrecked the sofa-bed

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