*** LARGE PRINT*** - PERFECT FOR THOSE WHO PREFER LARGE PRINT
I'm tone deaf, I have no sense of rhythm, and yet I'm allowed to sing karaoke, occasionally, while solving murders in Po'thole aka Pothole to anyone north of the Florida Georgia state line. Locals call it Po Ho.
My childhood friend and local politician is found murdered. In her living room where her family couch still has plastic covers on it as an homage to her late mother. She died back in the 60's. I'm Parker Bell and I thought crazy only existed in large cities. I was wrong. Crazy oozed out of every pore of my old hometown. Why I thought I and the Lady Gatorettes, diehard University of Florida football fans who are hormonally challenged every day the sun comes up, could solve a murder or two is beyond me. Did the Mafia come to town or was it just plain bad luck a politician or two is murdered or threatened? We need to figure it out quick before we meet our untimely demise.