Read Online Missing in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law Mystery/Romance Series) by Jana DeLeon - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jana DeLeon
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lawn was littered with automobiles—trucks, cars, convertibles, hardtops, sedans, and sports cars.
Stan Humphrey was standing on the front porch holding a whiskey glass and smoking a cigar, apparently intent on openly defying death. He frowned when Colt got out of his truck.
“Took you long enough,” he complained. “A man could die before law enforcement gets around to working in this town.”
A man who should have been dead years ago shouldn’t be so picky.
“It’s been a busy day.”
“Your shortage of help ain’t my concern, but what is my concern is my missing car.”
Colt held in a sigh. “That’s what I’m here for. You want to tell me what happened?”
Stan threw his arms up in the air, sloshing whiskey across his front porch. “I done told the dispatcher everything I know. The car was here. Now it’s not.”
“When was the last time you saw the car?”
“When I came home from church. Good sermon today. All about how being lazy is a sin. You should have been there.”
Colt glanced upward, wondering why God had seen fit to pile this on top of what had already been an exhausting and disappointing day. “Sir, you couldn’t possibly have seen your car after church today because it’s Monday.”
Stan stared at him for several seconds, then blinked. “Well shit fire and save the matches! You mean I been napping for a whole day?”
“Twenty-four hours is more like a short hibernation than a long nap.”
Stan waved a hand in dismissal, his marathon nap clearly of no concern. “No matter. Facts still the same. The car was here when I got home from church.”
“Yes, sir, but the amount of time during which the thieves could have taken it is significantly longer.”
Stan just stared.
“You know what,” Colt said, “never mind. Give me the make and model of the car.”
“It was a Cadillac DeVille. Damn fine automobile in her day. Had me a roll in the backseat with Melvina Watkins. Took her virginity, matter of fact. Might have been the best day of my life.” He narrowed his eyes at Colt. “That was before I found God, mind you. I don’t want you casting any aspersions on my character.”
“Of course not. Did the car still run?”
“Can’t remember. Probably not, but it might not have needed more than a battery to make it go. I mostly kept it around for sentimental reasons.”
Colt glanced around at no less than forty vehicles with flat tires and weeds growing around them and wondered how many of them had a Melvina-in-the-backseat story.
Not wanting to dwell on the matter, he focused on what facts he could drum out of what had to be one of the strangest crimes he’d seen since he returned to Mudbug. At minimum, it would take a battery and air in the tires—assuming they would even hold air—to get one of the cars out of the yard. But more likely, whoever had taken the car had towed it off. If it was even missing, and given that Stan was the only witness, that was looking shaky.
“Where was it parked?”
“Right up front just past the mailbox. You can see the empty spot.”
Colt walked to the edge of the lawn and took a look. A large square spot of bare ground sat surrounded by weeds. Tire tracks led through the weeds at the front of the lawn and onto the dirt road. He squatted down and picked up a handful of soil to take a closer look at, but it looked normal. Something had been covering this space or it would be grown over like the rest of the yard, and since he couldn’t spot a single green stem anywhere in the dirt, he had to assume that whatever had been here had been moved recently.
Maybe Old Man Humphrey wasn’t crazy after all.
He made his way back up to the house, where Stan was lighting another cigar. “Do you have a license plate number for the car?”
“Don’t think it had a plate on it. Hadn’t been driven in years. Kept it around for sentimental reasons.”
“Do you have the title to the car? I need the vehicle identification number in
Stan Humphrey was standing on the front porch holding a whiskey glass and smoking a cigar, apparently intent on openly defying death. He frowned when Colt got out of his truck.
“Took you long enough,” he complained. “A man could die before law enforcement gets around to working in this town.”
A man who should have been dead years ago shouldn’t be so picky.
“It’s been a busy day.”
“Your shortage of help ain’t my concern, but what is my concern is my missing car.”
Colt held in a sigh. “That’s what I’m here for. You want to tell me what happened?”
Stan threw his arms up in the air, sloshing whiskey across his front porch. “I done told the dispatcher everything I know. The car was here. Now it’s not.”
“When was the last time you saw the car?”
“When I came home from church. Good sermon today. All about how being lazy is a sin. You should have been there.”
Colt glanced upward, wondering why God had seen fit to pile this on top of what had already been an exhausting and disappointing day. “Sir, you couldn’t possibly have seen your car after church today because it’s Monday.”
Stan stared at him for several seconds, then blinked. “Well shit fire and save the matches! You mean I been napping for a whole day?”
“Twenty-four hours is more like a short hibernation than a long nap.”
Stan waved a hand in dismissal, his marathon nap clearly of no concern. “No matter. Facts still the same. The car was here when I got home from church.”
“Yes, sir, but the amount of time during which the thieves could have taken it is significantly longer.”
Stan just stared.
“You know what,” Colt said, “never mind. Give me the make and model of the car.”
“It was a Cadillac DeVille. Damn fine automobile in her day. Had me a roll in the backseat with Melvina Watkins. Took her virginity, matter of fact. Might have been the best day of my life.” He narrowed his eyes at Colt. “That was before I found God, mind you. I don’t want you casting any aspersions on my character.”
“Of course not. Did the car still run?”
“Can’t remember. Probably not, but it might not have needed more than a battery to make it go. I mostly kept it around for sentimental reasons.”
Colt glanced around at no less than forty vehicles with flat tires and weeds growing around them and wondered how many of them had a Melvina-in-the-backseat story.
Not wanting to dwell on the matter, he focused on what facts he could drum out of what had to be one of the strangest crimes he’d seen since he returned to Mudbug. At minimum, it would take a battery and air in the tires—assuming they would even hold air—to get one of the cars out of the yard. But more likely, whoever had taken the car had towed it off. If it was even missing, and given that Stan was the only witness, that was looking shaky.
“Where was it parked?”
“Right up front just past the mailbox. You can see the empty spot.”
Colt walked to the edge of the lawn and took a look. A large square spot of bare ground sat surrounded by weeds. Tire tracks led through the weeds at the front of the lawn and onto the dirt road. He squatted down and picked up a handful of soil to take a closer look at, but it looked normal. Something had been covering this space or it would be grown over like the rest of the yard, and since he couldn’t spot a single green stem anywhere in the dirt, he had to assume that whatever had been here had been moved recently.
Maybe Old Man Humphrey wasn’t crazy after all.
He made his way back up to the house, where Stan was lighting another cigar. “Do you have a license plate number for the car?”
“Don’t think it had a plate on it. Hadn’t been driven in years. Kept it around for sentimental reasons.”
“Do you have the title to the car? I need the vehicle identification number in
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