Just Add Trouble PDF
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JUST ADD TROUBLE (Book 3) Hetta Coffey Mystery Series Hetta Coffey is a woman with a yacht and she's not afraid to use it. A globe-trotting engineer with adventure in her soul, Hetta is determined to solidify her relationship with her long-distance boyfriend, Jenks Jenkins. What better place for a romantic interlude than aboard her yacht in Mexico's hauntingly beautiful and solitary Sea of Cortez? But where Hetta goes, trouble follows, and chaos is sure to ensue. After a run-in with a couple of sea serpents that threaten to rock the boat, she nevertheless decides to take on a project in the port city of Guaymas. After all, Jenks is headed back to Kuwait, so why not cash in on the best of both worlds by making picking up a few pesos while living aboard her boat in Mexico? Once again Hetta's indomitable spirit, stubborn independence and penchant for deceit will keep the reader in stitches as she launches herself and her best friend, Jan, into a sea of trouble. A pesky parrot, a drunken aunt and a shadowy figure who is handsome in a "criminal sort of way" lead to murder, mayhem, kidnapping, and run-ins with several federal agencies on both sides of the border. What people are saying about Just Add Trouble and Jinx Schwartz Schwartz is a twinkling, bright star on the mystery genre horizon with her witty and sometimes irreverent heroine, Hetta Coffey. — Fictionaddiction.net, reviewer B. Bramblett, author of Sliding Stop Schwartz’s writing is caustically funny in a politically incorrect wicked way.—GRINGO GAZETTE Review by Alisabeth Dobesh Hetta Coffey’s hilarious string of misadventures after being suddenly plunged into the “yachtie world” is a great page-turner for the quarter berth!—Capt. Pat Rains We loved this book. I read it out loud to my husband since we live in Mulege part time and we are familiar with the areas, we like to discuss them. We could hardly wait for the next chapter and sometimes we would have to wait so we could sleep. I hope she writes more stories like this By mcvega "mcquerryvega" (Somerset, CA United States) BOOKS BY JINX SCHWARTZ www.jinxschwartz.com The Hetta Coffey Series Just Add Water (Book1) Just Add Salt (Book 2) Just Add Trouble (Book 3) Just Deserts (Book4) Other Books The Texicans Troubled Sea Land of Mountains Just Add Trouble Book 3 Hetta Coffey Mystery Series Copyright © 2007 Jinx Schwartz All rights reserved. First edition e-book first published 2007 Second e-book edition published 2011 by Jinx Schwartz The characters and events in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to persons, whether living or dead, is strictly coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, scanning to a computer disk, or by any informational storage and retrieval system, without express permission in writing from the publisher. Acknowledgements As always, Holly Whitman is my first line of defense. Holly not only edits my work for the usual stuff, like misspelled words, she also puts me back on the road when I’ve written myself into a ditch. Thank you, thank you, Holly. I’d like to thank Dorothy and Art Oberto for the use of their brand name, Oh Boy! Oberto. Their generous contribution to a charitable cause in exchange for using their name in my book was greatly appreciated by the community. Many ideas in my books come from tales told by friends. I have blatantly stolen tall tales from: David Gray, Geary Ritchie, Jane Stris, Garth Jones, and others who shall remain anonymous, as they are still incarcerated. And many heartfelt thanks to my very supportive hubby, Robert (Mad Dog) Schwartz. Dedication I dedicate this book to Russ “Chingo” Madden, my numero uno fan, and to my wonderful husband, Robert “Mad Dog” Schwartz. Chingo and Mad Dog, a pair to draw to. JUST ADD TROUBLE by Jinx Schwartz Trouble comes from too much talk —Chinese proverb Prologue Paco itched. Checking to make sure Nacho watched the scenery instead of him, he shifted forward on the hard bench seat of the panga and squirmed. What he really wanted was to let go of the outboard’s steering arm and claw at the thousands of spiders racing under his skin. They had names, he knew. Meth mites, crank bugs. He also feared he was on the verge of tweaking like some lowlife crankhead. How many times had he and his homeboys busted a gut over the twitchy, skinny-assed suckers who bought their stuff? With their rotten teeth and scabby sores, his customers might as well wear signs reading, Kick Me, I’m a Methhead. He’d been careful, didn‘t smoke or shoot it, like some stupid loser. Smoking meth leaves your teeth black, and no way he’d shoot, he hated needles. All he’d done was parachute a small amount wrapped in a torn corner off a paper napkin when he was really dragging ass. Was it his fault the boss drove him past exhaustion on that killer schedule of his? Okay, so he’d added a little more to the ’chute now and then, but only when he really needed it. He’d lost some weight, but hell, with everyone in the gang working long hours, they all looked like hell. Up until today, though, he’d never, ever felt the bugs. Until today, he thought he was golden. When the boss sent him to pick up a new man in La Paz, he hadn’t given it much thought, but something about this guy set him on edge. Maybe it was the way Nacho raised his eyebrows when he spotted two liters of Mountain Dew in the panga. Paco meant to buy bottled water, but meth craved the heavy sweetness of the Dew. He should have been more careful. Was it too late? Was the boss on to him? Sent this guy as a spy? Or was this Nacho just another LA type, down here checking out their operation? Whatever, Paco decided he was finished with ice. Done. Termino. Wasn’t worth it. He just wished he felt as good as he had a few hours ago. Racing northward, he steered the fiberglass fishing boat over a glassy Sea of Cortez, speculating why Nacho was here, and why he didn’t fly Alaska Airlines into Loreto, or on one of their runner planes. Why La Paz and a long boat ride that would take hours—Oh, shit! He looked at the needle pegged at HALF on the fuel tank. How could he have forgotten to top it off? Slowing the
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