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

friends with Marcy?” Cora Mae guessed.
    Kitty nodded. “Maybe Marcy isn’t as honest as she says she is.”
    “Grandma is the sneakiest woman I’ve ever known,” I said.
    Pretty soon it was apparent. Diane hadn’t filled out an entry. Neither had Chet.
    “So what?” Cora Mae said when I gave her a serious look. “I bet lots of customers don’t sign up. And you know men? They get over-focused on one thing and don’t even see what else is going on around them.”
    “Or…,” Kitty said, “…Chet Hanson killed Harry Aho. And then an Aho killed Frank.”
    “So smarty-pants,” Cora Mae said, getting all defensive. “If it was revenge, and if Chet’s such a big, bad murderer, wouldn’t they want to kill Chet? Why Frank?”
    “There’s more to this than meets the eye,” I said, acting as mediator between my partners. “Let’s get this coffee can back to the IGA. Kitty, you can put it back.”
    “Why me?” she said. “Marcy already suspects me of cheating.”
    “Either you can have that job, or you can fill in for Cora Mae and continue stalking Chet.”
    “I’m not stalking him!” Cora Mae said.
    “What are you going to be doing while I fix your problem?” Kitty asked me.
    “I’ve got plenty on my plate. I’m going to interrogate those two Aho brothers. One of them ran away from a crime scene, and I want to know why. But first, I’ve got a little more investigating to do into this moonshine business.”
    Kitty crossed her arms in front of her and leaned away from the table. “I’m not putting that can back, and that’s final. I’m not the one who stole it.”
    I sighed. “Fine. I’ll put it back. You can distract Marcy. Cora Mae, where’s your mark right now?”
    “You mean my man?” she said. “Chet’s in Escanaba picking up supplies. He won’t be back for a few hours.”
    “When he gets back, stay on him.”
    Kitty snickered.
 
    *
    Putting the can back turned out to be much harder than stealing it in the first place. Marcy straddled the dummy can I’d planted like she was guarding her virginity against a gang of rapists. And she frowned when she saw Kitty and me bearing down on her.
    Then she picked up the can and cradled it in her authoritarian arms. I had the real entry can in a monster purse I found at Kitty’s, one of those totes that are so popular with women who like to carry everything they own.
    “Once a day,” Marcy said sternly. “I already told you that.”
    “I have another question for you,” I said. “Was my mother-in-law here the day Harry was shot?”
    “I don’t recall seeing her. And I’d remember if that old bat…I mean…”
    “I know what you mean,” I said. “It’s okay.”
    I looked back at my truck where Cora Mae was keeping Fred company, and wondered how I was going to switch the coffee cans.
    Right then, Blaze pulled up in his off-duty car, parked, came around the front of the car, and helped Grandma Johnson out of the passenger seat. I rushed up and said to my mother-in-law in a low voice, “You’ve been busted cheating at the drawing. How did you get four entries in without even showing your face?”
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Grandma said, but I could tell that she did. I glanced at Blaze. I decided to wait and talk to her in private.
    “How’s the investigation going?” I asked him. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Kitty, who had rushed into the IGA, come out and offer Marcy a candy bar she’d purchased inside the store.
    “It’s a tough case,” Blaze said.
    “Just let me know if you want help,” I offered.
    “Gertie thinks I’m a cheat,” Grandma said to Marcy.
    Marcy gave me a look that said I shouldn’t pick on my elders, even if they are old bats.
    Grandma went on, “Why don’t you have my sheriff grandson keep all the entries you have so far. That way nobody can make unfounded charges or tamper with the records.”
    “That’s a good idea,” Marcy said, handing the coffee can to Blaze