Free Chasing Can Be Murder by June Whyte Page A

murderer. How else can I get the police off my back? Anyway, sleuthing can’t be all that difficult. I’ve read books where frail old ladies and hairy guys with the IQ of an amoeba hit paydirt. Me…I figure catching the crook is just a process of elimination.” I eased back on the accelerator as my speed hit 100ks an hour. “Now, my mate, Ben, who I’d have sex with in a heartbeat if he’d only give me the nod, but that’s another story, reckons whoever killed Matt has to be involved in some sort of betting scam. Ben says if we go after the big gamblers with a shovel we might dig up our killer. Get what mean?”
    Lofty whined in his sleep.
    “Now we all know your new owner, Tire Man Pete, would place a bet on two mosquitoes buzzing over a naked arm, which is why we plan to spy on him. Set up surveillance outside his warehouse. See if we can trick him into exposing whether he’s part of the skullduggery going on at the track.”
    When Lofty’s snores came close to lifting the roof of the station wagon, I shook my head. What the hell was I doing discussing strategies with a dog? Dogs couldn’t keep up. Didn’t offer much in the way of comments or suggestions either. Might be time I invested in a parrot. At least a parrot could talk back.
    Fifteen minutes later I drove past the sign, McKinley’s Greyhound Kennels, and parked my station wagon next to the red brick kennel-house. I could see Jake, my dude-helper, elbows deep in soap suds out the front. He was leaning over a bathtub shampooing Lucky. I guess he wanted her to smell nice now she’d changed her tag from racing dog to house pet.
    “Everything okay here, Jake?” I slithered out of the driver’s seat and opened the rear door for Lofty to heave himself onto the ground.
    Hearing my voice, Lucky whisked her tail in the suds like an egg-beater, sprinkling white soapy flecks across Jake’s black, dreadlocked hair. Made me think of coconut on licorice sticks.
    Jake wiped at his eyes before reaching for a bucket of fresh rinsing water. “Yeah, fine, dude. A couple of plainclothes guys dropped in half-hour ago, but I acted dumb. They wanted to know where you were and when you’d be back.”
    “Damn,” I grumped as I let Lofty into a nearby emptying yard to relieve himself. “What’ll I do if they’re parked up the road waiting for me? I can’t let the police follow me to Manning’s warehouse.”
    “It’s okay dude, they cruised off back to the station after I told ’em you’d be gone all day. I said you had a couple of banks to rob and wouldn’t be back till dark.”
    “You’re a whacko, Jake.”
    “What’s, like, going down at Manning’s warehouse you don’t want the cops to know about?”
    “For your own safety the less you know the better. Let’s just say I’m starting a new career—amateur detective.”
    “You?” He looked skeptical. “Hey, man, most days you can’t, like, find your own car keys.”
    I gave Jake my most supercilious eagle-eyed glare. The one that involves narrowed eyes and flared nostrils. “Being chief suspect in a murder enquiry tends to make a person more perceptive.” I watched him lift Lucky from the bathtub and wrap her in a thick bath towel. “So, if I’m gone for awhile, will you be okay on your own?”
    Jake nodded. “No worries, dude. Anything specific you want me to do?”
    “When you’ve finished with Lucky can you ultrasound Cleo’s right deltoid muscle?”
    “Sure, man.”
    “And stand her wrists in ice water for five minutes then rub in that new red gunk Ben sent over. It’s supposed to cure everything—or so he says.”
    “You’d better believe it!” Jake’s metal-clad eyebrows almost connected with his head band and his cheeky grin alerted me to trouble.
    Hmmm…did he know something about that horrible red gunk that I didn’t? Better not to ask.
    I pushed the secrets of Ben’s vile smelling liniment from my mind and smiled down at Lucky. “Here you go, sweetheart.” I fumbled