Free Claws and Effect by Rita Mae Brown

woman who had secrets going back decades.
    â€œOh, everyone has secrets. Like the person who killed Hank Brevard.”
    â€œM-m-m, there is that. Well, I’m off to a Piedmont Environmental Council meeting. Happy Valentine’s Day.”
    â€œYou, too, Mumsy.” Little Mim smiled entirely too much.
    As she drove off, Big Mim entered the post office just as Dr. Buxton pulled into the parking space vacated by her daughter. At that moment her irritation with her daughter took over the more pressing gossip of the day.
    â€œGirls,” Mim addressed them, “I suppose you’ve heard of Marilyn’s crackbrained plan to oppose her father.”
    â€œYes,” came the reply.
    â€œNot so crackbrained,”
Pewter sassed.
    Bruce walked in behind her, nodded hello to everyone, opened his box, and almost made it out the door before Miranda remembered his package. “Dr. Buxton, wait a minute. I’ve got a Jiffy bag for you.”
    â€œThanks.” He joined Mim at the divider.
    She placed her elbows on the divider. “Bruce, what’s going on at the hospital? The whole episode is shocking.”
    â€œI don’t know. He wasn’t the most pleasant guy in the world but I don’t think that leads to murder. If it did a lot more of us would be dead.” He looked Big Mim right in the eye.
    â€œWas that your attempt at being subtle?” She bridled when people didn’t properly defer to her.
    â€œNo. I’m not subtle. I’m from Missouri, remember?”
    â€œTwo points.”
Murphy jumped onto the divider, Pewter followed.
    â€œLet me out,”
Tucker asked Harry, because she wanted to be right out there with Bruce and Mim.
    â€œCrybaby.” Harry opened the swinging door and the corgi padded out to the public section.
    â€œYou and Truman.” Mim rapped the countertop with her long fingernails.
    â€œHere we go.” Miranda slid the bag across the counter.
    â€œAh.” He squeezed the bag, examined the return address, which was his office at the hospital. “Huh,” he said to himself but out loud. He flicked up the flat red tab with his fingernail, pulling it to open the top. He shook the bag and a large bloody scalpel fell out. “What the hell!”

11
    Coop placed the scalpel in a plastic bag. Rick turned his attention to Dr. Bruce Buxton, not in a good mood.
    â€œAny ideas?”
    â€œNo.” Bruce’s lower jaw jutted out as he answered the sheriff.
    â€œOh, come on now, Doc. You’ve got enemies. We’ve all got enemies. Someone’s pointing the finger at you and saying, ‘He’s the killer and here’s the evidence.’”
    Bruce, a good four inches taller than Rick, squared his shoulders. “I told you, I don’t know anyone who would do something like this and no, I didn’t kill Hank Brevard.”
    â€œWonder how many patients he’s lost on the table?”
Pewter, ever the cynic, said.
    â€œHe probably lost more due to bedside manner than incompetence,”
Mrs. Murphy shrewdly noted.
    â€œHe’s not scared. I can smell fear and he’s not giving off the scent.”
Tucker sniffed at Bruce’s pants leg.
    â€œYou don’t have to stop. You can still sort the mail. But first tell me where you saw the bag,” the sheriff asked Harry, Miranda, and Susan, now stuck because she had dropped in to help. He had interviewed Mim first so that she could leave.
    â€œI saw it first,”
Tucker announced.
    â€œYou did not. I did,”
Pewter contradicted the bright-eyed dog.
    â€œThey don’t care. If you gave these humans a week they wouldn’t understand that we first noticed something peculiar.”
Murphy flopped on her side on the shelf between the upper and lower brass mailboxes.
    â€œI saw the bag.” Harry, feeling a chill, rolled up her turtleneck, which she had folded down originally. “Actually, Mrs. Murphy sniffed it out.