Read Online Murder at the Courthouse by A. H. Gabhart - Free Book Online

year. Me and the wife, we took thison to make a little extra money for Christmas. So we could get all the kids and grandkids something nice.” The old man brushed his hand over his keys and smiled a little at the noise they made. “I’m thinking of turning in my keys come July.”
    â€œWhat? Retire? You can’t do that, Roy,” the sheriff said. “We need you.”
    The old man laughed with pleasure. “So do the fish, Alvin. So do the fish.”
    â€œI guess I can’t fault a man for wanting to go fishing.” The sheriff’s laugh joined the old man’s before he got serious again. “But don’t you be worrying none about what happened this morning. Mike here is checking into it all for us, and he’ll find us some answers.” The sheriff grinned over at Michael. “Why, the boy went to school to learn to be a law officer.”
    Michael knew the sheriff was poking fun at him, but he just smiled and took the opportunity to ask Roy a question he should have asked him hours ago. “Did you notice anything out of the ordinary today while you were cleaning, Roy?”
    â€œLike what, Michael?”
    â€œI don’t know. A stray cell phone. Bloodstains maybe. A gun in a trash can.”
    The old man chuckled. “I reckon that would be out of the ordinary all right, but no, son, I didn’t see nothing like that. ’Cepting the blood on the post and porch out front and a few smudges the judge tracked in here. The only thing I might say was anywhere near to out of the ordinary was my keys. They weren’t where they ought to have been when I got here this morning.”
    â€œWhere were they?” Michael asked.
    â€œOh, they were in the supply closet but not on the hook I use. I always hang them up on the top hook. That’s my hook’cause it’s higher than most folks can reach easy. Keeps them out of their way. And then I only have to carry the key to the back door and the one to the closet in my pocket when I go home.”
    â€œYou think you might have hung the keys on a different hook last night by mistake?” Michael asked.
    With a frown, the old man considered that. “It could’ve happened, I reckon, but it ain’t likely. I always hang my keys on that high hook. Been doing that for years now. It’d feel funny putting them anywhere else.”
    â€œHow do you think they got on the other hook then?” the sheriff asked.
    â€œOh, I figure somebody must have borrowed them and stuck them back on the wrong hook. Nothing to get worked up about though. Can’t nobody get into that supply closet ’cept them that have a key.”
    â€œAnd who all is that?” the sheriff asked, more to show an interest in what the old man was saying than because he thought it was important.
    â€œWhy, you do, Alvin. And Neville and the judge and Josephine from up in the court and Wilma and Burton.”
    â€œSomebody from all the offices here in the courthouse then?” Michael said.
    â€œThat’s right, son. We keep the extra toilet paper in there, and folks has got to be able to get at that.” The old man laughed.
    â€œBut why would they bother your keys?” Michael said.
    â€œThey probably moved a broom or something and knocked them down. Not meaning to or anything, and then just stuck them back on a hook they could reach. Happens now and again.”
    It had taken another ten minutes to get away from Roy.He had to tell them why he thought some kind of extremist group was behind the murder.
    â€œBurton says one of those bunch of crazies has been wanting to make a parade through town, and the mayor’s been finding ways to put them off. So they dumped the body here as a kind of warning.” The old man looked satisfied with his explanation and a little worried at the same time. Burton Fuller was the jailer, and he and Roy enjoyed figuring things out over coffee in the little kitchen above