Free Nothing to Fear But Ferrets by Linda O. Johnston Page A

unstable grip. My beer stein was nearly drained, but I set it on the floor anyway to ensure it didn’t slide off and smash. She went to the counter and refilled her glass with rum, not even a hint of cola this time.
    “Like what?” I asked.
    “Their favorite food, for one thing.” She sat once more, swaying unsteadily in her chair and taking another swig. “But he knows that. It was all over the place. I asked him questions, too. Sure, the ferrets chewed on Chad, but whoever killed him dumped ferret kibble all over his body, especially around his neck. Of course the poor little creatures would chew on what they thought was just an extension of their food.”
    My sudden shuddering segued into a valiant attempt to deactivate my gag reflex. I croakingly continued, “Then the police believe someone killed Chad and set the ferrets up—scattering food to make them feast on him, and hoping the evidence would indicate they did it all?” As much as I hated discussing the disgusting details, that sounded feasible. More feasible than pinning the murder on the ferrets.
    “Yes, poor, innocent creatures.”
    Well, not totally innocent. I’d seen some treacherous teeth marks. My voice shook as I said, “Did you ask if there were any marks on Chad to suggest someone killed him before he sank to the ferrets’ level?”
    “I kind of asked, but the detective didn’t answer.”
    “So I don’t suppose he told you who they think would do such a thing.”
    “Like I said, the detective didn’t tell me much, but some questions he asked make me sure he thinks I did it. Or Yul did.”
    Big surprise. Only, wasn’t that a little too obvious? Okay, maybe I was doing an about-face, but my suspicions were turning elsewhere, to suspects as yet unknown.
    Chad had been killed in the house Charlotte and Yul rented, after a party where they’d all but punched him out. The ferrets may have been set up to take the fall. But would either Charlotte or Yul have tried to do that to such prized pets?
    Probably, if it would eliminate them as suspects.
    Which it apparently hadn’t.
    Charlotte’s mind seemed to stagger along the same initial lines but stopped short of what I’d concluded. “We wouldn’t do that to the ferrets. They’re Yul’s, but I adore them, too. And now they’re in ferret prison.” Her voice broke, and her eyes brimmed with tears. “I don’t know whether the cops have determined yet how much the ferrets actually did contribute to Chad’s death. The best scenario for them will be if they’re found totally innocent. Then, they’ll be shipped off to some ferret rescue place, probably in another state. The worst case . . .” Her voice trailed off as she dropped her face into her hands.
    She didn’t have to finish. I heard the Animal Services lady in my head: They’ll be humanely euthanized .
    Charlotte’s tears became contagious, though I contained mine in moist eyes.
    Shaking so hard that the table between us started to shimmy on the tile floor, Charlotte swept her hands from her head and stood again. Her reddened eyes grew grimmer. “The thing is,” she said hoarsely, “that even if the ferrets are cleared, the police will still want to know who killed Chad in the first place . . . and that detective might accuse Yul. Or me. But we didn’t do it.”
    I genuinely hoped they hadn’t. Either of them. “You’re sure Yul—”
    “We’re each other’s alibis, for whatever good that’ll do.” Though her sigh was soggy, she took yet another swig of rum. “We’d gone to Vegas for the fun of it, but I was supposed to have a meeting on my show ideas yesterday so we didn’t stay overnight but decided to come back. The thing is . . . Well, you might have noticed that Yul’s a sexy-looking guy, and in this case looks aren’t deceiving. We took a little detour, pulled off the road, and spent the night . . . I’m sure you get the idea, but we won’t be able to prove it.”
    I chose not to pursue questions about