Free Rogues & Rascals in Goose Pimple Junction (Goose Pimple Junction Mysteries Book 4) by Amy Metz Page A

chairs in front of the desk. “She’s not conceited, she’s convinced.”
    “What’s she got to be convinced about?”
    “Sure enough.” Hank rubbed the back of his neck.
    Johnny drummed his fingers on his desk. “Well how about Nellie Baker? She works up at the school. Martha Maye could introduce you.”
    “Nellie Baker?” Hank grimaced. “Nellie Baker has all the personality of linoleum. You ever try to carry on a conversation with her?”
    “Can’t say that I have.” Johnny stroked his chin and looked out the window. “Well, there’s always Honey Winchester. She never met a man she didn’t like.”
    “Thanks. That’s high praise. She and Lolly are spending time together now anyway.”
    “You can only do one thing then.”
    “What’s that?”
    “Convince the fair Trixie—what did you say her last name was?”
    Hank looked dumbfounded. “Huh.” He scratched his head. “I didn’t. I don’t know her last name.”
    “Well, convince Trixie What’s-her-name to stay in town. You like her, right?”
    “Yeah, but how am I gonna do that?”
    “Introduce her around. She makes some friends, maybe she won’t want to leave. In addition to wooing her with your manly charm.”
    “I don’t know, Chief.” Hank regarded Johnny skeptically. “People don’t just up and move.”
    “Give her a reason. Tell you what do; let’s all go out for supper tomorrow night. You and Trixie, Jack and Tess, and Martha Maye and me. No pressure, just a good night out with friends. What do you say?”
    Hank’s face brightened. “I say it’s worth a try. But a dinner date on a Tuesday?”
    “Sure. You can’t ask her for tonight. That would be two nights in a row, and you’d look desperate. Gotta play it a little cool, dude. But you don’t want to wait too long either.”
    “I guess you’re right.”
    “I’ll call Jack, Tess, and Martha Maye and set it up.”
    Hank started out the door and then turned around and said, “There’s something about her that just makes me want to know more.”
    “Man, you’re ate up, aren’t you?”
    Bernadette’s voice rang out. “Chief, Pickle Culpepper is on line one.”
    Johnny picked up the phone and punched the line, raising a finger in the air to signal Hank to stick around a minute. He put the call on speaker.
    “Sir, I wasn’t gonna say anything, but Mama said I had to,” Pickle’s voice wavered.
    “Go on.” Johnny and Hank exchanged looks.
    “I, uh, sir, do I really have to? I don’t know much of anything—”
    “Pickle, your mama must think you know something. What’s it hurt to tell me and let me be the judge?”
    “I thought you were the police chief.”
    Johnny used his forefinger and thumb to pinch the corners of his eyes. He tried to keep his voice calm. “Let me decide, Pickle. I am the police chief. And you have something you need to get off your chest, don’tcha?”
    “Well . . . Maybe. I don’t know—”
    “Pickle,” Johnny said sternly, “talk to me.”
    “Well, I didn’t see him exactly, but I suspect who spray-painted those cars.”
    Johnny sat up. “Why didn’t you say so?”
    “‘Cause like I said, I didn’t see him do the deed, and it’s his word against mine. He’s a mean son of a . . .well, he and I don’t exactly see eye-to-eye on things. Plus he’s got a reputation at school.”
    “What kind of reputation?”
    “One that says he’s nasty as a hair shirt. I’d just as soon not tangle with him.”
    “You gonna give me a name?”
    There was silence, but Johnny waited him out. “Well, sir, I think Jimmy Dean did it.”
    “The kid with the prosthesis? The one folks call peg leg?” Johnny’s voice went up in disbelief.
    “Yep. One and the same. He likes to play the poor pitiful victim around you adults. Around us kids, he’s a bully. I’ve even seen him take off his leg and swing it at kids. Then he hops around on one leg like a crazy person, waving his leg in the air like a bat or something.”
    “You’re