Andy was going to hide Kat’s ice cream or draw a stupid cartoon face on her surfboard or…something. Mostly for that stupid picture, but also because she’d apparently taken the last cold water out of the fridge without replacing it again. God, she was such a brat. And it was even hotter and more humid under the crawlspace than outside. How was that fair? It was shaded, it should have been a little cooler.
Muttering, Andy dropped the tailgate on Scooter’s truck and leaned in to drag a case of bottled water closer. The crunch of car tires on the parking lot pavement sounded behind him, but he ignored it. Water. He managed to get the case close enough to punch a hole in the plastic wrap and drag out a bottle, just as the car door slammed. Damn it, he’d had it about up to here with the tourist
