Free 3 Revenge of the Crafty Corpse by Lois Winston Page A

everyone’s tush. But a killer? I don’t believe that for a minute.”
    “I don’t know,” said Zack. “She can wield a mighty nasty cane.”
    “But only as a threat. She’s never used it as a weapon on anyone.”
    “Didn’t she smack Flora with her cane once?”
    “The jury’s still out on that one. You know how Mama’s prone to hyperbole, and she’s certainly not above an occasional fib if it suits her purpose.”
    “Maybe whatever happened at Sunnyside was an accident,” suggested Zack.
    “Harley mentioned murder, not manslaughter.” I shifted in my seat to confront him. “What if something went horribly wrong with her brain during the surgery and caused her to become homicidal?”
    “Wouldn’t the doctors have seen some signs of that earlier?”
    “Who knows? Maybe not. Maybe whatever happened needed some sort of trigger to manifest itself.”
    Zack turned into Sunnyside’s driveway, bypassed the guest parking lot, and pulled right up to the front door. “I guess we’ll soon find out.”
    “They’re all waiting for you in the library,” said April when Zack and I rushed into the lobby. “Down that hall, last door on your right. Never had a murder here before,” she added, “but, girl, your mother-in-law couldn’t have chosen a finer pain in the ass to eliminate. Some of the residents want to pin a medal on her.”
    I stopped short. “Are you saying Lyndella Wegner was murdered ?”
    “Apparently.”
    “But I saw her this morning. She died in her sleep. I reported her death to you.”
    “Rumor has it the medical examiner claims otherwise. The Union County crime unit is doing their CSI thing in her room right now.”
    I sprinted the rest of the way down the hall to the library. Zack sprinted alongside me. Officer Fogarty stood in the hall, blocking the library entrance, but stepped aside to allow me and Zack entry.
    Bookshelves lined the walls of the library. A circular seating area with burgundy leather upholstered chairs and two sofas filled the Oriental carpet in the center of the small room. Lucille sat ramrod straight in her wheelchair alongside one of the sofas.
    Shirley Hallstead, still dressed in her navy power suit, was perched on the edge of one of the chairs but jumped to her feet as I entered the room. Officer Harley stood off to one side.
    A rotund man in a pair of light brown trousers, white dress shirt, and dark brown solid tie stood towering over my mother-in-law. His shirt sleeves were rolled to just below his elbows, his tie loosened.
    “Well, look who’s here,” said my mother-in-law, jutting her chin in my direction. “This is all your fault, Anastasia.”
    “What’s going on?” I asked.
    Shirley pointed an index finger at Lucille and in a voice filled with anger said, “Your mother-in-law killed Lyndella Wegner.”
    “I did no such thing,” said Lucille. “You’re all trying to frame me.”
    “We have a witness who heard you threaten to strangle her,” said Shirley. “Now Lyndella’s dead. Strangled. Explain that, why don’t you?”
    “Lies!” said Lucille.
    “That’s enough,” said the stranger. “I’ll do the questioning if you don’t mind, Ms. Hallstead.” He turned to Harley. “Escort Ms. Hallstead to her office. I’ll be with her shortly.”
    “I have a right to stay here,” said Shirley. “Sunnyside is my responsibility.”
    “And murder is mine,” said the man. “Now leave or I’ll arrest you for interfering with an investigation.”
    Shirley jerked away from Harley when he reached for her arm. With her head held high, her lips pursed tightly, she stalked out of the room, Harley following closely on her heels. The stranger closed the door behind them. Then he turned to me. “Mrs. Pollack?”
    I nodded. “And you are?”
    He flashed a badge. “Detective Spader. Union County.” He nodded in Zack’s direction. “This here your mother-in-law’s lawyer?”
    “He’s nobody,” said Lucille. “Just someone she’s taken up