Murder Passes the Buck (25 page)

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Authors: Deb Baker

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths, #Detective and Mystery Stories, #Grandmothers, #Upper Peninsula (Mich.), #Johnson; Gertie (Fictitious Character)

BOOK: Murder Passes the Buck
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back behind George just in time. I peered out.


What the hell happened?

Blaze asked the crowd. Everyone looked at each other. I looked at Kitty, who had plowed through to stand beside me, and shrugged along with the rest of them. Blaze bent over Onni and helped him up.


I

m blind,

Onni screamed.


There, there,

Blaze said.

You just got a little something in your eye.

Onni continued screaming as Blaze guided him to the men

s room. I wandered in the opposite direction before the crowd started comparing notes and looking around for the perpetrator.

I leaned against a pile of jackets in the coatroom and closed my eyes. When I opened them, Barb sashayed in like one of those fancy New York models on a catwalk, her hands on her hips and a sour look on her face.


I need to talk to you,

she said.


Suits me.


I want to know why you

re bothering Bill and me. I know you were sneaking around outside our house spying on us, but I don

t know why.

I never liked the word

sneak,

but I let it ride. And I didn

t like her tone of voice. Up

 

close I noticed a tired edge to her face, like she

d been losing sleep, and I decided to cut to the chase.


Someone broke into Chester

s house,

I said.

And tore it apart looking for something, and I

m pretty sure it was you.

Her face crumpled and her voice went limp.

That

s why you

re snooping around? You think I did that?


That

s right,

I said.

Barb looked around. No one was nearby.

Promise you won

t tell Bill what I

m going to tell you, or anybody else, for that matter. Promise and I

ll tell you.

She wrung her hands and chewed the bottom of her lip.


I promise,

I said. We used to call them

toilet paper promises

because they were the kind of promises that lasted about as long as one piece of toilet paper. Another price one pays to be an investigator.


Chester found out something about me that Bill didn

t know about, and after he died, I worried that Bill would go over and discover it.

She paused and glanced at the door.

I went there, but I didn

t have to break in. The back door was standing open and someone had already searched through everything. Chester

s belongings were thrown every which way. I looked around

 

but whoever was there ahead of me must have taken the thing I was looking for, because I couldn

t find it.

Her voice started to crack and I thought she was about to cry, but she didn

t.


What were you looking for?

I asked, but of course I knew. The magazines I had discovered in Chester

s blind.


I can

t tell you that. It

s too embarrassing, something foolish I did years ago and regret every day of my life. Chester told me he had it and threatened to show it to Bill if I didn

t go back where I came from.


Sounds like a motive for murder to me,

I said.

Barb narrowed her eyes, back to her old self.


Where were you opening day of hunting season around dawn?

I asked her.


You just don

t quit, do you?

she said.

Little Donny wandered into the coatroom sucking on a toothpick and Barb used his presence as an opportunity to escape.

I called to her as she strutted out,

Don

t leave town until this matter is resolved.

I

ve always wanted to say that.

Not one to put all my guinea hen eggs in one basket, I knew it was time to expand the scope of my investigation. There was a

 

distinct possibility that Barb wasn

t the murderer. I wanted her to be my prime suspect because she wasn

t a local and because I didn

t like her. But, the evidence wasn

t stacking against her.

If Barb told me the truth, Chester

s place had been searched three separate times the day after he bought the big one: by Cora Mae and me, by whoever trashed his place, and by Barb. Who searched my house? Not Barb or she would have taken the magazines. And who put the rifle back in Chester

s gun case?

I looked around for Kitty and finally found her in the ladies

room washing her hands.


Barb didn

t do it,

I said.

And Onni didn

t do it because he didn

t have anything to gain.

Kitty studied me in the mirror.

Sounds reasonable.


That leaves Bill. Or we are barking up the wrong tamarack tree altogether?


They just took Onni to the hospital in Escanaba,

Kitty said, still watching me in the mirror.


What

s wrong with him?

I squirmed, wondering how a little shot of pepper spray could require hospitalization. Those cans should have warnings.

 


No one knows. Ed Lacken said Onni was standing by you one minute and screaming the next. Funny thing.

Kitty watched me in the mirror. My curls were beginning to flatten to my head. I fluffed them with my fingers and said,

Little Donny

s going to need a ride home tonight. Ask George to take him and meet me by the door. I

ll get the truck.

Kitty nodded.

The emergency room desk attendant was solid, like a refrigerator. She wore a fuzzy black mustache over her lip and thick black eyebrows.


Only next of kin beyond this point,

she said.


I

m his wife.

I tried to look worried.

She scanned a clipboard.

Doesn

t say he has a wife on his intake sheet.


He

s not thinking right. I

m definitely his wife, though.


Okay, but they …

Refrigerator pointed at Cora Mae and Kitty,

will have to wait here.

Cora Mae shrugged and took a seat by the television. Kitty positioned herself for a view down the hall, leaning against the wall, a hint of garter protruding below her housedress.

I walked down a long corridor with Fridge

 

leading the way. She wore hospital white shoes and white stretch pants that showed the lines of a pair of size eighteen panties. The panties were black.

We entered a room with three beds partitioned by curtains. She pulled aside the first one, waved me through, and thundered away to man the fort.

Onni was lying on an examination table still wearing his green suit and paisley shirt. The shirt, unbuttoned halfway, exposed his plucked-chicken wrinkly chest. He held a white cloth over both eyes.

I peeked out of the curtain to make sure no one was coming, then said in the gruffest voice I could manage,

Onni Maki, I have a few questions for you before the doctor comes in.

Startled, Onni began to lift the cloth. I quickly shoved his hand back and said,

Better not open

em yet.


Who are you?

Onni asked from under the cloth.


FBI.

I improvised as I went.

We

re investigating the death of Chester Lampi, and this assault on you might be tied in.


No,

Onni began,

that lunatic Gert.


Let

s not go pointing fingers yet,

I broke in.

This is way more complicated than it seems, and it involves land and mineral

 

rights and greed.


I don

t have any stake in the land anymore,

Onni said.

Wish everybody would leave me alone about it. I don

t take to threats.

Sweat glistened on his chrome-dome and a long strand of cover-up hair had slid down the side of his face.


Nobody

s threatening you.


Yeah, right.


Have you noticed any unusual activity over there?

I asked.


What? Where?


On the land next to your place. Chester

s land.

Onni seemed surprised.

That

s vacant land and it

s November. What kind of stupid question is that?

Interrogation work is harder than it looks. The interrogatee might know valuable information without even knowing it. It

s the interrogator

s job to ask the right questions, even though the questions might seem stupid to someone not acquainted with the procedure.


I

m asking the questions here, remember?

My throat was getting sore.

Who else has been asking about the land?


It doesn

t matter,

Onni said,

I don

t have anything to do with the land or the mineral rights anymore.

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