Murder Passes the Buck (16 page)

not what it looks like. We were trying to help.
”

“
Help what? Help kill me? Go on, Cora Mae. Don
’
t let Kitty stop you. Call for backup.
”

Kitty spread her legs in a firm stance. Cora Mae looked at each of us, but didn
’
t move.

“
We did follow you,
”
Kitty admitted.
“
It was all my idea. All I want to do is join the team and I thought if I followed you around and figured out what you were up to, I might have a better chance at the job.
”

“
What does he have to do with it?
”
I pointed at Jeff.

“
He drove me around in his car because you would have noticed mine.
”

“
He called and threatened me.
”

Kitty looked uncomfortable and her eyes shifted to the left. A sure sign she was about to make up something.

“
The truth,
”
I insisted.

“
Well … he did make the call. But only because I told him to. And I
’
m really sorry. I really am. I figured if you thought you were in danger, you might decide you needed me.
”

I studied Kitty, and found myself believing her, as incredible as that seemed. What a desperate and lonely woman she must be

to go to this extent to be included.

“
Wait a minute,
”
I said.
“
You and your cousin destroyed my house. You broke in and slashed and smashed my things. You went too far. Cora Mae, call for backup.
”

Kitty
’
s eyes widened, her face the color of silly putty. She shook her head.
“
Oh no, I
’
d never do anything to hurt you. Neither would Jeff. Is it true? Did you really have a break-in? Honest, Gertie, you have to believe me.
”

“
You didn
’
t break into my house?
”

“
Cross my heart and hope to die, I didn
’
t.
”

A moment or two of silence ensued while I considered Kitty
’
s believability and my options.
“
I can
’
t pay you,
”
I said.

“
I understand and that
’
s okay.
”
A broad smile lit up Kitty
’
s face.
“
I can work full-time now, but if I get a paying job I
’
ll have to cut back my hours to weekends and nights. You won
’
t regret this, Gertie. When do I start and what do you want me to do?
”

“
Tell Jeff to take off without you. Starting right now you
’
re my official bodyguard.
”

Kitty almost fell off the porch. I wasn
’
t there to break her fall, but the bear hug she wrapped around me almost crushed me to death, anyway.

“
Where are you going?
”
Cora Mae asked.

“
Escanaba
’
s the other way.
”

“
Ray
’
s,
”
I said, pulling into the general store
’
s parking lot and parking between the yellow lines. I was getting pretty good at driving.
“
You coming in?
”

“
Naw, bring me some chewing gum,
”
she said.
“
Juicy Fruit.
”

Kitty grabbed hold of the open door and with a shove from Cora Mae, stood up. I walked past several parked trucks and recognized one as George
’
s. Glancing down at my clothes, I thought about saving this errand till later, but later isn
’
t a word I care for. It
’
s for slackers.

I marched in with my bodyguard in hot pursuit.

Ray
’
s daughter stood at the checkout counter waiting on customers. Ray was in the deli making hot sandwiches, wiping his hands on a stained white apron tied across the bulge of his belly. George lounged against the meat case, wearing his snake hat and a playful attitude.

He whistled when he saw me.
“
Where you off to today?
”
He looked me up and down. I hoped Cora Mae
’
s coat was covering most of my bottom. I
’
d rather keep my fat rolls to myself.

“
Not letting the grass grow is all.
”
I tugged at the bottom of the short coat.

“
Looks like Cora Mae
’
s been dressing you. That or you
’
re going through some new phase.
”

“
Ray,
”
I said, calling past George and his silly amused grin,
“
I need to talk to you for a minute.
”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kitty loading up a shopping cart.

“
Sure, Gertie.
”
Ray stepped out from behind the counter.
“
What you need?
”

“
George tells me Chester was in here last week and I need to know what he bought.
”

“
Everybody in Tamarack County was in here last week, and you want me to remember what one of them bought?
”

“
Yep.
”

Ray scratched his chin, thought for a spell, then said,
“
Don
’
t remember.
”

“
I was in here too,
”
George said to Ray.
“
Chester had a little bag, like a paper lunch sack, and came out of the back room.
”

The back room was stocked with hardware and gun supplies. It was the most popular part of the store with the men, a social gathering place where they stretched stories.

“
Maybe I do remember.
”
Ray sounded surprised at his own memory.
“
He bought buckshot, and that seemed funny
‘
cuz Chester never used buckshot. Buckshot
’
s for folks who can
’
t aim so good, and Chester

was the best there was. I kidded with him about it.
”

Someday when I have time, I
’
ll set Ray straight concerning buckshot, which I use all the time and it isn
’
t because I couldn
’
t shoot straight. It
’
s for better coverage.

“
Chester said he didn
’
t want to kill the varmint hanging around pestering him,
”
Ray continued.
“
He said he wanted to scare it off. And he seemed mad, real mad.
”

“
Chester usually kills an animal if it hangs around too long,
”
George said, adjusting his hat.
“
He doesn
’
t hesitate, especially if he thinks it might be rabid.
”

“
Maybe when he said varmint,
”
I offered,
“
he meant something entirely different.
”

“
I have to agree with you, Gertie.
”
Ray ran his hands across the front of his white apron.
“
He said someone was pestering him, not minding their own business.
”

“
Their own business?
”
I repeated.
“
Ray, can you remember exactly what he said? Did he say their own business or his own business?
”

Ray scratched his chin.
“
Don
’
t know.
”

“
Did he say someone wasn
’
t minding her own business?
”

“
No, I
’
d remember that.
”

Ray got testy after I wouldn
’
t let it go.
“
I don
’
t remember, Gertie, because
I
mind my

own business.
”

Minding your own business is the number one rule if you want to get along in the U.R, or at least appearing as though you
’
re minding it. Busybodies are welcome additions because they bring fresh material into an otherwise routine day, as long as they don
’
t throw their two cents in with it. In other words, gossiping and rumoring are permitted, personal opinionating on the topic of gossip isn
’
t.

“
Maybe kids have been hanging around his property or his hunting shack,
”
Ray offered,
“
and he just wanted to dig up some dirt around their feet. That happened to me once. Kids were sneakin
’
into my strawberry patch, eatin
’
my strawberries. I waited around the corner of the house until they showed up. You should
’
a seen
‘
em scatter when that shotgun went off.
”

Ray started laughing and decided the story was funny enough for a second go around. While he was telling it again I wandered off, hunting for Juicy Fruit gum. Ray was still laughing over his story while I paid up.

Kitty was nowhere in sight.

George walked me out to the truck. He grinned when I handed Cora Mae her chewing gum and she squealed. She
’
s like a

kid in a candy store.

“
Wait up,
”
Kitty called, rounding the corner with a cart bulging with bags.
“
Thought I
’
d buy us a few snacks.
”

“
There isn
’
t an inch of extra room up front,
”
I said.
“
Put them in the back.
”

I needed Kitty
’
s
body guarding
techniques about as much as I needed a hole in my head, no disrespect intended toward Chester.

The ride to Escanaba, forty miles away, took more than an hour. Cars whizzed past, all in a big hurry to get someplace else, and the drivers seemed overly combative. One low-life character even flipped us the raspberry for no good reason.

I tried to stay as far to the right side of the road as I could so the nuts had a lot of passing room. Sixty-five miles an hour seemed unreasonably fast to me so I tried to keep it around forty. You could enjoy the scenery that way.

Since I had a hard time seeing over the dashboard, Cora Mae let me sit on her purse. That made a difference.

Kitty polished off six powdered-sugar doughnuts, leaving most of the sugar on her shelf-like bosom and on Cora Mae
’
s lap.
“
Who would break into your house?
”
she