fired?”
“No, I wouldn’t. Those two families have a long history of conflict. That’s just nuts talk.”
“Fine then.”
That’s how Blaze didn’t find out about Gus Aho being Frank’s partner from me. If the big buffoon wanted to play games, I held the world championship. He should know that by now.
Although in regards to Gus, how did I know he was partnering with Frank. All I’d seen from him was a steady stream of urine and some unsteady posturing. And they hadn’t seemed to be arguing, which wasn’t typical of that bunch.
My son had been a good cop at one time. And he’s still okay when all he has to do is deal with a couple local kids breaking into a deer camp and drinking up the booze. He handles these cases in his usual plodding way and sometimes even figures out who did it.
But I had a business to run, and I was on the clock. I couldn’t waste my client’s money by lollygagging around. Anything I told Blaze would be used against me anyhow. Like the deer camera? Was what I’d done even legal?
That’s also why I didn’t tell Blaze about lifting a notebook from a drawer in Frank Hanson’s kitchen. With a bit of luck it might turn out to be his moonshine distribution list, all his paying customers’ names written down in a little spiral notebook that fit into my pocket perfectly.
*
Word For The Day
SHELLACK (shu lak)
A sealant – varnish;
To clobber an opponent in a sadistic way.
The next morning Grandma and I did the two-step in the kitchen after I let Fred outside. She was using a butter knife to scrape the black part from a piece of toast she’d burnt to a crisp. She wielded the knife like that might stop me. Right as she opened her trap to dish dirt at me, both of us heard a car pull in. While she snooped out the window, I managed to pour a cup of her muddy coffee.
Kitty stomped into the house wearing a dress the color of the coffee in my cup.
“You look like a big dirt bag,” Grandma said to her.
“She means a bag of dirt,” I tried to explain, but it didn’t come out sounding any better.
“I heard what happened,” Kitty said, not even bothering to reply to Grandma’s dirt comment, which is the best way to handle her. “It’s all my fault for not keeping a better eye on you. Dang, you could have been killed out there.”
“I told her to button up,” Grandma said. I could tell by her eyes, this wasn’t going to be one of her better days. “The thermometer says it’s fifty below. But will she listen! No!”
Kitty looked over at my mother-in-law, then at me. She shrugged, because she’d been around for some of Grandma’s other episodes. If this kept up, I’d get my way about that nursing home. Grandma went on crabbing about the snow and ice when anybody with the worst possible vision could tell it was a nice warm summer day.
At her insistence, I helped Grandma into her winter coat and let her lean on me to get her boots on. Then I called Blaze and told him to stop by and check out what was happening.
“Here’s your broom,” I said, handing it to her. “Sweep the snow off the front porch.”
“How come I have to do all the work around here?” she said, shuffling outside.
“One day she’s sharp as a stick in the eye,” Kitty said. “The next she qualifies for the mental ward.”
“I don’t get it either.” I poured coffee for Kitty and while we went over business, I watched Grandma out the window to make sure she wasn’t hurting anybody or anything. Fred stood at a healthy distance from her, watching the broom swish.
“Nobody remembers seeing Diane Aho at the IGA when Harry was killed,” Kitty informed me.
“They know her by sight, right?”
“’Course they do.”
Those checkers and baggers down at the IGA knew everybody. “That’s interesting,” I said.
Then I gave her the details of my surveillance mission. While I filled her in, Blaze pulled into the driveway and was having some kind of conversation with
“No, I wouldn’t. Those two families have a long history of conflict. That’s just nuts talk.”
“Fine then.”
That’s how Blaze didn’t find out about Gus Aho being Frank’s partner from me. If the big buffoon wanted to play games, I held the world championship. He should know that by now.
Although in regards to Gus, how did I know he was partnering with Frank. All I’d seen from him was a steady stream of urine and some unsteady posturing. And they hadn’t seemed to be arguing, which wasn’t typical of that bunch.
My son had been a good cop at one time. And he’s still okay when all he has to do is deal with a couple local kids breaking into a deer camp and drinking up the booze. He handles these cases in his usual plodding way and sometimes even figures out who did it.
But I had a business to run, and I was on the clock. I couldn’t waste my client’s money by lollygagging around. Anything I told Blaze would be used against me anyhow. Like the deer camera? Was what I’d done even legal?
That’s also why I didn’t tell Blaze about lifting a notebook from a drawer in Frank Hanson’s kitchen. With a bit of luck it might turn out to be his moonshine distribution list, all his paying customers’ names written down in a little spiral notebook that fit into my pocket perfectly.
*
Word For The Day
SHELLACK (shu lak)
A sealant – varnish;
To clobber an opponent in a sadistic way.
The next morning Grandma and I did the two-step in the kitchen after I let Fred outside. She was using a butter knife to scrape the black part from a piece of toast she’d burnt to a crisp. She wielded the knife like that might stop me. Right as she opened her trap to dish dirt at me, both of us heard a car pull in. While she snooped out the window, I managed to pour a cup of her muddy coffee.
Kitty stomped into the house wearing a dress the color of the coffee in my cup.
“You look like a big dirt bag,” Grandma said to her.
“She means a bag of dirt,” I tried to explain, but it didn’t come out sounding any better.
“I heard what happened,” Kitty said, not even bothering to reply to Grandma’s dirt comment, which is the best way to handle her. “It’s all my fault for not keeping a better eye on you. Dang, you could have been killed out there.”
“I told her to button up,” Grandma said. I could tell by her eyes, this wasn’t going to be one of her better days. “The thermometer says it’s fifty below. But will she listen! No!”
Kitty looked over at my mother-in-law, then at me. She shrugged, because she’d been around for some of Grandma’s other episodes. If this kept up, I’d get my way about that nursing home. Grandma went on crabbing about the snow and ice when anybody with the worst possible vision could tell it was a nice warm summer day.
At her insistence, I helped Grandma into her winter coat and let her lean on me to get her boots on. Then I called Blaze and told him to stop by and check out what was happening.
“Here’s your broom,” I said, handing it to her. “Sweep the snow off the front porch.”
“How come I have to do all the work around here?” she said, shuffling outside.
“One day she’s sharp as a stick in the eye,” Kitty said. “The next she qualifies for the mental ward.”
“I don’t get it either.” I poured coffee for Kitty and while we went over business, I watched Grandma out the window to make sure she wasn’t hurting anybody or anything. Fred stood at a healthy distance from her, watching the broom swish.
“Nobody remembers seeing Diane Aho at the IGA when Harry was killed,” Kitty informed me.
“They know her by sight, right?”
“’Course they do.”
Those checkers and baggers down at the IGA knew everybody. “That’s interesting,” I said.
Then I gave her the details of my surveillance mission. While I filled her in, Blaze pulled into the driveway and was having some kind of conversation with
Similar Books
