Free Berried Alive (Manor House Mystery) by Kate Kingsbury Page A

what cut the tires on all those Jeeps last night," Sid called out helpfully.
    Elizabeth sat up straight, while George looked as if he were about to rush in and strangle his partner.
    "Last night? Those men were here last night?"
    "Yes, m'm. I'm afraid they were." George stood up. "I'm sorry, your ladyship, but I can't say no more. Sid shouldn't have told you that much but you know what he's like." He sent a glowering glance at the door. "Can't keep his blinking mouth shut for a minute, he can't."
    "What'd I say?" Sid demanded from the back room.
    "Just give me a blinking minute and I'll be in there to tell you what you said!" George cleared his throat again and lowered his voice. "Beg your pardon, m'm, but that's all I can say right now."
    "You don't have any clues as to their identities?" Elizabeth got to her feet.
    "None at all, m'm. No one seems to know what they look like."
    "But you would tell me if you had something to go on?"
    George looked uncomfortable. "I'll tell you what I can, m'm. That's all I can promise."
    "Very well, George. I suppose that will have to do."
    "I'd ask young Polly if I were you, your ladyship," Sid piped up.
    Elizabeth paused at the door. "Polly?"
    "If you don't blinking shut up I'll shove your teeth right down your bloomin' throat!" George roared.
    "Thank you, Sid. Good day to you both." Elizabeth stepped outside and took a deep breath of the fresh warm air.
Polly
. She had no idea what her young assistant had to do with anything but she was certainly going to find out.

CHAPTER
    6
    "Now," Rita Crumm said, when she was sure she had everyone's attention. "Have you all got the list of items in front of you?"
    Florrie Evans, a thin wisp of a woman with a nervous twitch to her nose, held up a trembling hand.
    Rita inwardly cursed. If anyone was going to mess things up, trust Florrie to be in the front of the line. The woman never got anything straight, and when she did, she usually forgot it again before she could make use of it. "What is it, Florrie?" she demanded testily. "Didn't you get a list?"
    "Yes, I did," Florrie said, her quavery voice jarring Rita's nerves. "I just wanted to ask if we can get more than one thing from one place."
    "You can get them all from one place if you can find them." Rita sniffed, and resisted the urge to swipe at her own nose with the back of her hand. Watching Florrie's nose twitch like that made her itch. "It's up to you. But if I were you, I wouldn't go asking people for the whole list at once. They're likely to tell you where to put it."
    Florrie looked puzzled. "Where do I put it, then?"
    Marge Gunther giggled, and jabbed Maisie Parsons in the arm with her elbow.
    "Ouch," Maisie muttered. "That hurt."
    A young girl spoke up from the back of the room. "Can we go to the American base to get some things on the list?"
    Nellie Smith was young, pretty, and unmarried. Rita secretly envied all three, and barely tolerated the woman. It was well known in the village that Nellie had more boyfriends at the base than fleas on a dog's back. Rita envied her that, too. "I don't think they'd look too kindly on us if we go pestering the boys at the base for a scavenger hunt," she said scathingly. "I'd think they have more important things to take care of out there."
    "Yeah, Nellie," Marge called out. "You can't go asking the Yanks for their combinations. You'd get thrown in the clink."
    "Don't be daft," Nellie said, with a touch of scorn. "Everyone knows Yanks don't wear 'em."
    Shrill jeers and cheers greeted this comment. "Only Nellie would know that Yanks don't wear underpants," Marge said with a grin.
    "I didn't say they didn't wear underpants," Nellie protested. "I said as how they don't wear combs."
    "What do they wear then?" someone else asked.
    "Never you mind."
    "Whatever it is they wear, it wouldn't be on them long with Nellie around," Marge said.
    "You're only jealous." Nellie flicked her hair back with her fingers. "You're all jealous, the lot of you."
    Marge laughed.