Read Online Murder Grins and Bears It by Deb Baker - Free Book Online Page A

what BB stood for – Bottom of the Brain Barrel.
    They were still arguing when I went up to
Walter’s door. Walter met me with his sawed-off shotgun hanging
loose from his arm.
    After giving him directions on where to pick
up his ATV, we headed out. I was plumb tuckered out, physically and
emotionally.

    ****

    My friend, Kitty, stood on her front porch
Wednesday morning wearing a tent-sized, yellow housedress that
exposed her dimpled knees. Her pin-curled head bobbed as she waved
one slab-of-beef arm over her head. At least ten years younger than
Cora Mae and me, she was ten years ahead of us in the falling apart
department.
    Kitty thinks of herself as my part-time
bodyguard whenever it suits her. I don’t really need a bodyguard
and I don’t pay her. The bodyguard job is her way of finding a
reason to hang around with us. Not only is she the town gossip and
knows everything going on, but I discovered she also has worthwhile
connections in surrounding towns.
    Kitty’s yard looks like the town dump.
Whenever something wears out she opens the front door and heaves it
into the yard. The town’s after her to clean it up, but so far
nothing has changed.
    I stepped over a plastic bucket and followed
her inside.
    Cora Mae helped herself to a sugar doughnut
from a plate on the kitchen table and plopped down.
    “ How’s Heather holding up?”
Kitty wanted to know.
    “ Okay,
considering.”
    “ I made a nice carrot cake
for you to take home. You have enough to worry about without having
to cook for the whole bunch. Is anyone helping you?”
    “ Thanks. I appreciate it.
Heather will pitch in.”
    Kitty sat on a kitchen chair and I braced
for the collapse I was sure would follow. The chair held, but she
spread her chunky legs, exposing more than anyone would care to
see. I looked away. “Let’s go over what we know,” she said. “This
certainly is a kerfuffle.”
    Her eyes slid to me.
    Kitty and I have an unspoken but ongoing
word battle raging. Ever since she discovered my word-for-the-day
routine, she’s been throwing big words around. When I realized I
wouldn’t remember most of the new vocabulary I was trying to learn,
I decided to abandon that daily routine even though I love
discovering new words. But Kitty won’t quit baiting me.
    Sometimes it’s fun, other times I’d like to
pitch her off a Lake Superior cliff.
    “ I have one important
question that has me fomented,” I said, zinging one right back at
her. “What was a warden from Marquette doing way down
here?”
    “ Maybe they wander all
over,” Cora Mae suggested.
    “ You’d think they have
their own territories to cover.” I blew on my coffee and took a
sip. “Like sheriffs or firefighters. I don’t think this one just
woke up early yesterday and decided to drive south to visit Carl’s
bait pile.”
    “ Maybe he had a tip,” Cora
Mae offered.
    “ So,” I said, feeling the
sharp heat of uncontrollable tension. “Carl and Little Donny were
in cahoots on something illegal. Is that right, Cora Mae?” Cora Mae
opened her mouth to say something. I barreled on. “The warden
surprises Little Donny, who is caught holding the bag. Little Donny
blows the warden’s head off and escapes. Then just for fun, he pops
a few arrows into the town drunk’s back. Is that pretty much
it?”
    Cora Mae looked at me with wide eyes. I
realized my nerves were showing and I was taking my stress out on
my best friend, but I couldn’t stop.
    “ Of course I don’t think
that,” she said, sounding hurt. “I’m just trying to
help.”
    She had her hands cupped around her coffee.
I reached over and squeezed them to let her know I didn’t mean to
hurt her feelings. She smiled. It’s hard to keep Cora Mae down.
    I leaned on the table and rubbed my face
with both hands. I voiced my fears. “What if Little Donny’s
dead?”
    Kitty took over. “Don’t be ridiculous. He
witnessed a murder, is my bet. He probably ate too many sweet rolls
and took a snooze in the