Free Irregardless of Murder (Miss Prentice Cozy Mysteries) by E. E. Kennedy Page A

evidence.”
    “It was all drunk up!” said Hester and giggled.
    Gil nursed his coffee through several more questions, but it was soon apparent that the Swansons had nothing else to tell us.
    “Well, I’d better get Miss Prentice back home,” Gil said at last. “She’s had a tough couple of days and she needs her rest.”
    Amid a flurry of thanks and return invitations, Hester pressed her apple pie recipe on me, and Bert insisted on walking us to the car.
    “It’s a sad business, Dickensen,” he said as Gil slid into the driver’s seat, “and Marie’s a fine woman.”
    “You’re right about that,” Gil agreed. “Don’t worry, we’ll find out where she is.”
    “Not like that daughter.” Bert scowled. “She was something else.”
    Even in the dim light, I could see Gil’s eyebrows wobble with interest. “Really?”
    “Played little games if you know what I mean.” He pressed his hands on the car door and leaned in. “Tried to make it look like a man was doing something he shouldn’t. You couldn’t believe a word she said.”
    “A tease, was she?” Gil asked.
    I frowned in the darkness but kept quiet.
    “Don’t you know it! And then some—takin’ sunbaths in the back yard and coming over all the time, borrowing things. Then gets all riled up like a man did something wrong. Well, it just wasn’t right, that’s all. Couldn’t believe a word she said,” he repeated.
    “Sad business all around,” Gil conceded.
    Bert sighed, and gazed at Marie’s house. “That it is. Well, you folks have a good evening and come again.” He slapped the top of the car affectionately and stepped back as Gil pulled away from the curb.
    “And what was all that about?” I asked as we rounded the corner.
    Gil grinned. “Oh, you mean Bert?”
    “Yes, all that male bonding she-was-a-tease, the-devil-made-me-do-it stuff.”
    “I have my theory. What’s yours, Miss Prentice?”
    The sardonic tone was familiar. Oh, well. We were back to square one.
    “Well, my guess is that Bert made a pass at Marguerite. She probably rebuffed him and he was afraid the whole thing would get back to Hester.”
    “Don’t you bet there’d be hell to pay if it did?” Gil agreed.
    “But Gil, can you imagine this is the first time this thing ever happened with a man like Bert? I can’t buy that. I think an intelligent woman like Hester would be well aware of what’s going on.”
    “And she puts up with it?”
    “Look at it this way: When Bert and Hester married, Bert was probably the catch of the century. I’ll bet she’s been doing the Superwoman bit ever since, just to keep him. He’s still a good-looking man. It must take a lot out of her.”
    Gil laughed. “Why, Miss Prentice, how perceptive, how downright earthy of you! You’ve been holding out on us all these years!”
    “Not at all. I read about it somewhere. You know we spinsters live on soda crackers and ice water and never allow the word S-E-X to pass our lips.”
    We were stopped at a red light. Gil gave me a long, searching look. When the light turned green he accelerated, still watching me.
    “I’ve missed you,” he murmured.
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve been here all the time.” I was tired of all these on-again, off-again games. And my head hurt.
    “Forget I said that. Answer me one other thing about Hester. Do you believe what she said about Marie—that the police took her?”
    “Why not?”
    “Didn’t you see that big freezer on the back porch? What if Bert got too friendly with Marie too? If Hester’s the hard-headed woman you say she is—”
    “Oh, come on, Gil.”
    “I mean it. Who was it took the dog for the last walk? Bert didn’t have the heart, remember? Maybe he’s a lover, not a fighter.”
    “I thought journalists only dealt in facts, not speculation.”
    “This is investigative journalism. It sometimes takes imagination.”
    “So I gather, judging by your editorials lately.”
    “Ouch,” said Gil,