Read Online Murder by Chance (Betty Chance Mystery) by Pat Dennis - Free Book Online
Authors: Pat Dennis
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said, frowning.
Betty felt as if someone had slapped her in the face. “What do you mean he deserved it?”
Hannah shrugged. “He was grumpy. He wouldn’t talk to anybody on the bus. He even refused a stick of sugar-free gum when I offered it to him.” Hannah paused before adding, “I don’t offer gum to just anyone. The way he refused, you’d think I was being a flirt.”
Betty’s demeanor changed and she pulled her lips together, tightly. She knew better than to laugh out loud. Did seventy-one year old Hannah really think a man deserved to die because he refused her token of friendship? Even more astounding was the chance that Hannah was offering more than just a Chicklet to a man who was more than a decade younger than she.
Betty shook her head in wonder. Homo sapiens, especially the older ones, never failed to surprise her. Nearly every male under the age of ninety acted as if their aging body were a Halloween costume that could be discarded at any given moment if the right opportunity presented itself. Betty decided it was good that an older woman could see herself in the same, misguided light.
Hannah grabbed her cane and held it midair. “I’ve already called my son, the attorney. He told me I could sue if I wanted.” She turned around swiftly and scurried away, pushing servers and customers out of her way with her cane as she headed toward Ogawa’s table.
Betty’s mood shifted into a downward spin. If Hannah’s litigious son was anything like his mother, Take A Chance Tours was driving straight into bankruptcy.
Chapter 6
Tom Songbird repeated the M-word again as he and Betty waited for the sheriff to arrive. “Money! We’re going to lose a lot of money.”
For a change, Tom wasn’t the cool, calm and witty stud in the room. Instead he was openly worried about the casino losing money. His tribe would also lose money in the process. For Tom, family and friends were all that mattered. If he was acting like a nervous nelly for a change, Betty knew his concerns were serious.
Tom tapped the conference table rapidly with the tips of his perfectly manicured fingernails. He once told Betty he spent a small fortune every week at his hair stylist. Plus, he’d willingly hand over a week’s pay for the perfect pair of shoes. Tom represented his tribe to the people he encountered while on duty. He was determined to be treated with respect, and not merely brushed off as if here some low-level security mall cop.
He and Betty were waiting inside the conference room they had been in the night before. Betty nicknamed it Interrogation Central. Songbird continued, “There’s no way about it. Gamblers are suspicious. Murder isn’t good for business.” He tapped again.
The scent of Tom’s aftershave drifted toward Betty. She recognized it as Burberry Sport for Men, a pricey little item that her ex-husband started wearing after he met his sugar-mommy. Before that, the only fragrance Larry wore was Old Spice.
Betty leaned over and asked, “Is this the first murder at Moose Bay?”
Tom nodded. “There’s been a few deaths before, but they’ve all been natural.”
Betty asked, “Describe natural.”
Tom sipped the last bit of coffee in his cup before answering. “The usual. Heart attacks, strokes, the sort of thing that happens when seventy percent of your clientele is older. We’ve never even had a suicide here.”
“That’s pretty amazing,” Betty said, remembering the frightening statistics of towns that allow legalized gambling. Las Vegas alone boosts twice the national average for suicide. And these days there were mini Las Vegas’s popping up all over the country.
Tom added, “My staff is trained to keep an eye out for anything suspicious or disturbing. We take suicide prevention very seriously. There’s nothing worse than gambling gone bad.”
“With your clean history, having a murder delivered to your front door must have been shocking,” Betty admitted.
Tom answered
Betty felt as if someone had slapped her in the face. “What do you mean he deserved it?”
Hannah shrugged. “He was grumpy. He wouldn’t talk to anybody on the bus. He even refused a stick of sugar-free gum when I offered it to him.” Hannah paused before adding, “I don’t offer gum to just anyone. The way he refused, you’d think I was being a flirt.”
Betty’s demeanor changed and she pulled her lips together, tightly. She knew better than to laugh out loud. Did seventy-one year old Hannah really think a man deserved to die because he refused her token of friendship? Even more astounding was the chance that Hannah was offering more than just a Chicklet to a man who was more than a decade younger than she.
Betty shook her head in wonder. Homo sapiens, especially the older ones, never failed to surprise her. Nearly every male under the age of ninety acted as if their aging body were a Halloween costume that could be discarded at any given moment if the right opportunity presented itself. Betty decided it was good that an older woman could see herself in the same, misguided light.
Hannah grabbed her cane and held it midair. “I’ve already called my son, the attorney. He told me I could sue if I wanted.” She turned around swiftly and scurried away, pushing servers and customers out of her way with her cane as she headed toward Ogawa’s table.
Betty’s mood shifted into a downward spin. If Hannah’s litigious son was anything like his mother, Take A Chance Tours was driving straight into bankruptcy.
Chapter 6
Tom Songbird repeated the M-word again as he and Betty waited for the sheriff to arrive. “Money! We’re going to lose a lot of money.”
For a change, Tom wasn’t the cool, calm and witty stud in the room. Instead he was openly worried about the casino losing money. His tribe would also lose money in the process. For Tom, family and friends were all that mattered. If he was acting like a nervous nelly for a change, Betty knew his concerns were serious.
Tom tapped the conference table rapidly with the tips of his perfectly manicured fingernails. He once told Betty he spent a small fortune every week at his hair stylist. Plus, he’d willingly hand over a week’s pay for the perfect pair of shoes. Tom represented his tribe to the people he encountered while on duty. He was determined to be treated with respect, and not merely brushed off as if here some low-level security mall cop.
He and Betty were waiting inside the conference room they had been in the night before. Betty nicknamed it Interrogation Central. Songbird continued, “There’s no way about it. Gamblers are suspicious. Murder isn’t good for business.” He tapped again.
The scent of Tom’s aftershave drifted toward Betty. She recognized it as Burberry Sport for Men, a pricey little item that her ex-husband started wearing after he met his sugar-mommy. Before that, the only fragrance Larry wore was Old Spice.
Betty leaned over and asked, “Is this the first murder at Moose Bay?”
Tom nodded. “There’s been a few deaths before, but they’ve all been natural.”
Betty asked, “Describe natural.”
Tom sipped the last bit of coffee in his cup before answering. “The usual. Heart attacks, strokes, the sort of thing that happens when seventy percent of your clientele is older. We’ve never even had a suicide here.”
“That’s pretty amazing,” Betty said, remembering the frightening statistics of towns that allow legalized gambling. Las Vegas alone boosts twice the national average for suicide. And these days there were mini Las Vegas’s popping up all over the country.
Tom added, “My staff is trained to keep an eye out for anything suspicious or disturbing. We take suicide prevention very seriously. There’s nothing worse than gambling gone bad.”
“With your clean history, having a murder delivered to your front door must have been shocking,” Betty admitted.
Tom answered
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