Free Murder Bites the Bullet: A Gertie Johnson Murder Mystery by Deb Baker

she went to sleep, she was out for the night. A bomb couldn’t wake her. Instead I probed in a roundabout way, “Did you two get any sleep last night?”
    Cora Mae grinned. “A little.”
    “And what about an alibi for when Harry was killed?” I wanted to know. “Did you find out if your new honey has one?”
    “I sure did. Chet was nowhere near the scene of the crime.”
    “Well, then, where was he?”
    “He was at the IGA.”
     
    *
     
    While Kitty complained about how crowded the truck was and why couldn’t we drop Fred off at home, I headed for the IGA to follow up on where the heck everybody really was when Harry and Frank met their maker. At this point, the only one who had a solid alibi for at least one of the murders was Gus Aho, who I knew hadn’t shot Frank because he’d been peeing in the river at the time and had his hands full of something other than a killing machine.
    Besides, the shot came from in front of me, not anywhere near Gus.
    Kirby’s IGA is locally owned and operated just like all the IGAs and it’s been in the same family for three generations. Kirby isn’t around anymore. His grandkids take care of business and provide jobs for a lot of friends and neighbors and their kids.
    Marcy Linden was out in front of the store, standing behind a booth that was covered in red and white checkered oil cloth. I’d known Marcy my whole life. After all of us made the proper greetings and passed through the obvious weather observations, Marcy asked, “Did you sign up for the Hometown Sweepstakes yet? You could win a thousand bucks. The winner will be announced on Sunday.”
    “I better,” Cora Mae said, grabbing up a piece of paper and a pen and writing down her name.
    “Write the date, too,” Marcy advised. “One a day is all you get and you have to buy something. You’re going in to shop, right Cora Mae?”
    “I need a few things,” she said, pushing the paper through a slit in a box. And with that, we lost our most problematic business partner to the hair and beauty aisle.
    Kitty signed up next.
    There’s something about freebies that has them running from all directions. Not to be left behind, I scribbled down my name and today’s date, gave it a kiss for luck, and stuffed it into the box along with the rest.
    “Is that Gertie Johnson under that ponytail?” Marcy said, squinting at me.
    “It is,” I said.
    “Well, I’ll be!”
    “Isn’t she cute?” Cora Mae said.
    I cut to the chase. Since everybody in the whole county knew exactly when and where the two murders occurred, thanks to a pipeline better than anything you’d find in Alaska, I didn’t have to cover old ground with Marcy. Frank’s death occurred during the night, after the store closed, so I left him out of the equation for now.
    “Were you working the booth when Harry Aho was murdered?” I asked, flashing my deputy sheriff badge for good measure.
    “You’re a deputy now? I though you and Blaze have personal issues.”
    “I don’t know why you’d think that. I’m helping him. So were you working?”
    “I was right here at this very spot when it happened,” Marcy said.
    “Did you see Diane Aho at all?”
    Marcy squinted in thought. “I saw Gus Aho. I even asked how his family was doing and he said everybody was fine.” She shook her head, sadly. “And right then, at that exact minute, everybody was not fine.”
    Gus might be a river polluter, but now he was crossed off my suspect list. He’d had a legit alibi when his dad died. And I’d seen with my own eyes that he hadn’t shot Frank.
    “What about Diane?” I asked again. “Think. Did you see her?”
    Marcy wrinkled her brow, thinking. “I…don’t…think…so.”
    That certainly wasn’t much of a concrete answer. “Does she usually sign up for the sweepstakes?”
    “She’s like everybody else. Nobody goes in the store without signing up. A thousand bucks is what draws them. Every last one.”
    Kitty was eyeing up the sweepstakes signup