Free Blown To Pieces (PTO Murder Club Mystery Book 2) by Katie Graykowski Page B

chairback.
    “Yes. I think Mustang mentioned it once or twice.” There was a faint spark of interest in his eyes.
    “I had a case where a woman lit a gas burner in her yard for a crab boil, not knowing that her husband had left the burner on. She was blown back a little, but not blown to pieces. Propane is heavier than air, so the fire washed down her body.” Monica’s hands washed down her body to drive the point home.
    “The blown-to-pieces part could be caused by the house explosion.” There was a hint of doubt in his tone. “Different circumstances than your case.”
    “It’s different, but wouldn’t he have to have been inside the house or at least on the front porch when it blew?” Monica looked at Ben then me and back to Ben. “Lighting the outside burner wouldn’t have caused enough force to blow him up, and he was too far away from the house for that to have done more than blow him back. Also, lighting the burner outside wouldn’t have ignited the gas inside the house. Even without all of the doors open, the gas would have dissipated.”
    Ben leaned back and crossed his feet at the ankles, muddling it over. Or at least, I think he was muddling. He might have been observing a moment of silence to honor Big Tommy.
    “Okay.” His tone suggested he was playing along to placate the insane. Like when I’d played along with crazy cousin Ralph who kept using potato chips as the Eucharist after he insisted on confessing his sins to me. Since I got to eat one chip per sin, I’d still play along. “Let’s map it out. I got the fire investigator’s report this morning. Let’s go next door and map it out.”
    Monica and I exchanged a look. This could work. At least we’d know for sure that Big Tommy was murdered.
    “Guys, we’re going next door to the basketball court to look at something. If you need anything, the door is directly across the hall from this one.” Ben pointed to the open doorway. “Come and get us.”
    It was nice that he’d thought of Max.
    He stood, offering a hand-up to me. I took his hand and stood. He put his hand in the small of my back and led me next door, glancing back to Monica as if to say, “Are you coming or what?”
    “What am I...invisible?” Monica’s tone reeked of eye roll.
    “Don’t mind her. She’s just testy because she’s allergic to strawberries and couldn’t enjoy that fantastic cake.” Only being able to eat one kind of cake would have made me cranky too. But I’d suffer in silence because I’m a martyr for the carb cause.
    “I think the basketball court will be big enough.” Ben flicked on a bank of light switches and opened one of the glass-and-metal double doors for me.
    Three clean white walls and polished white-oak floors nearly blinded me. The only thing that saved my retinas was that the fourth wall was nothing but glass overlooking the lake. I got that the reason you lived on the lake was to look at the lake, but I was starting to feel a little waterlogged. Privacy seemed like an issue. If I lived across the lake from him, I’d totally have the binocs and telescope at the ready. Did he ever dance around in his boxers while lip-syncing “Pour Some Sugar on Me”? If only I lived across from him, I’d know.
    “Let me grab my iPad and a tape measure.” Ben walked out of the room.
    “Why do you need your own basketball court?” Monica sat down on the gray metal bleachers against the right-hand wall.
    “I can almost understand the court, but bleachers?” I sat down next to her. “Does he really have people come over to watch him play?”
    “Good point.” Monica crossed her legs, and one of her black-motorcycle-booted feet vibrated up and down like it was marking time until she could get back to doing something useful.
    Ben stepped into the room with an iPad, three rolls of black electrical tape, a stack of white note cards, a black Sharpie, and a tape measure.
    He was really getting into this.
    He handed me the note cards and