Free Murder on the Lunatic Fringe (Jubilant Falls Series Book 4) by Debra Gaskill Page A

Many of the ladies who belonged were married to Jubilant Falls’ old guard business and themselves tottering toward decrepitude, but they managed to have their finger on the social pulse of the city.
    “They seem to be delightful little old ladies, I thought.” Earlene looked at me over her list, hopeful I wouldn’t object to them.
    “They’re not bad,” I shrugged. “I do think they probably have a vision of our business that is about thirty years old, but I think they are big supporters of a hometown newspaper.”
    “OK, what about Melvin Spotts?”
    “No. Just flat out no.”
    “Why?”
“Do you have any idea what a crackpot he is?”
    “He seemed rather, well, intense when he came to my office.”
    “Intense?” I asked. “At least twice a month, he leaves a nasty message on my phone or sends an e-mail accusing me or my staff of covering up the real corruption he feels is going on in Jubilant Falls. It’s everything from crooked cops to upper level federal cover-ups and unidentified flying objects landing outside the city. You know he told me that he thought the federal government was hiding barrels of radioactive waste in the old landfill? It took me two weeks to convince him that wasn’t true. I’d take him seriously if his voicemails didn’t have a parrot squawking, “Don’t tread on me!” in the background.”
    Earlene’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Oh, dear.”
    “You didn’t promise him a place on the focus group, did you?”
    She grimaced.
    “You didn’t.”
    She nodded. “I thought… he seemed to have so much valuable information.”
    “Oh Jesus, Earlene.”
    “I’ve scheduled a meeting for next week with these folks—next Monday at two o’clock.”
    I stood up and closed my eyes, resisting the urge to blow up at her. Maybe she would see what a disaster this group could be after one meeting. I could only hope.
    “OK,” I said, gritting my teeth and gathering my cell phone and notepad. “I’ll be here.”
    My phone’s voicemail light was blinking when I dragged myself back to my office and shut the door. I shook off my need for a cigarette and punched in the password to listen to the message: “Penny, this is Gary. I looked into your buddy Jerome Johnson. I don’t know what to tell you, but the guy doesn’t exist. Neither does Ekaterina Bolodenka. Outside of a social security card and an Ohio driver’s license, neither of them has any records of any kind. Anywhere.”
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 10 Graham
     
    “You didn’t come over Sunday night.”
    I took my chance while the newsroom was empty except for the two of us and made a beeline for Elizabeth’s desk.
    For once, everyone else scattered. Addison came back from lunch and disappeared into a meeting with Earlene. Dennis slipped down to advertising to flirt with Jane the secretary, and Marcus was scouring the halls at city administration office for a story. Pat was down at the high school, getting photos of the high school football players at practice.
    “I got into town late. I’m sorry,” she said. She didn’t look at me as she pulled a plastic container with her lunch salad out of her bottom desk drawer.
    “I called your cell phone a couple times. You never answered.”
    “You know I don’t use the phone when I’m driving. Traffic was awful.”
    “Everything OK? You feeling alright?”
    Her brown eyes met mine.
    “I’m fine.” Her tone told me not to ask again.
    Last night, awaiting her arrival, I’d set my table with flowers and the two dishes I could find without cracks in them. Elizabeth’s favorite marinated pork chops still sat in the fridge, along with baking potatoes and fresh green beans. I bought a chocolate cake from an out-of-town baker with the words ‘Will You Marry Me?’ written in frosting across the top with the blue ring box embedded in the center. After eleven o’clock and no return phone calls, I put everything away, turned out the lights, and sat in my