Free Cold Turkey by Shelley Freydont Page B

checking out. Are the bills ready?”
    “Well,” Corinne said slowly, “that’s why I didn’t get here right away. We’re having trouble with our printer. Silly thing is all jammed up. That happens sometimes. But usually I can fix it without too much trouble. Not this time, it’s taking longer than usual to fix.”
    “That’s okay. Just send the final bills to the address you have on file.”
    There was silence. They must be handing over their credit cards.
    “I’m sorry for the delay. Why don’t you two go into the bar and have a drink on the house. These machines can be so annoying.”
    Liv bet they were thinking innkeepers could be pretty annoying, and she blessed Corinne. You had to love this town and its inhabitants, Liv thought. They all embraced finding a murderer with the same enthusiasm they’d embraced tourism when the cannery closed years before. They never let you down in a pinch.
    The front door opened, bringing with it a draft of wind and a tramp of feet.
    “Sheriff,” Corinne squeaked.
    Liv let out her breath. But she didn’t put down the paper, because suddenly she felt silly sitting there like Miss Marple.
    The front door opened again, bringing another gust of wind that rattled the newspaper.
    “Hey, what’s going on?” Joe’s voice. They must have come out of the bar.
    “I was just about to ask that myself.” Pudge, sounding haughty and bored. “Do you have more questions, Sheriff?”
    “Actually . . .”
    The sound of several heavy footsteps passing through the lobby and up the stairs. Bless Bill. He’d brought reinforcements.
    “What is this all about? I’m a busy man and I have been cooperative. But enough is enough.”
    “Have you no feelings?” That from Eileen.
    Liv felt someone come to stand beside her. Not Bill. And hopefully not Pudge; she didn’t think she’d like him when he was angry. She clutched the newspaper and willed whomever it was to go away.
    Fingers appeared at the edge of the paper and pulled it down a few inches. Slowly Liv turned her head.
    “Busted,” Chaz Bristow said, trying not to laugh.
    Liv flushed. She knew she did. He always managed to make her feel ridiculous.
    She put down the paper. Everyone turned to look at her. Bill, Pudge, Corinne, Joe, Eric, and three uniformed policemen.
    Bill turned away but not before Liv saw the flash of his eyes. She was in for a big lecture.
    “Eric Sattler, you are under arrest for the murder of Max Bonhoff. You have the right . . .”
    Eric threw a panicked look at Eileen, who was looking horror-struck.
    Bill flicked his head and two of his men escorted Eric out of the building.
    “No! I didn’t do it.”
    “That’s what they all say,” Chaz said and sighed.
    Eric struggled against the two officers. “Eileen. Tell them.”
    On cue, Eileen broke into tears. “Oh, Eric. How could you?”
    Eric’s mouth dropped open as disbelief filled his eyes. Slowly he shook his head. And they led him away.
    “Looking like a pretty nasty lover’s triangle,” Chaz said under his breath.
    “I was just thinking the same thing.”
    “This is just terrible,” Pudge said. “I suppose you have proof.”
    Bill looked up the stairs. “Oh yes.” Two more officers were carrying a tagged duffel bag down the stairs.
    “Found this in his room, sir.”
    “Sure they did,” Chaz said under his breath. “You gotta love it.”
    “You don’t seem surprised.”
    “Are you?”
    “Sort of. I mean, I figured it had to be him. He’s been favoring his right shoulder since after the race. I’ve been told a shotgun can leave a pretty nasty bruise if you’re not used to it.”
    “Clever of you.”
    Liv narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you being sarcastic?”
    “No.” Chaz looked genuinely shocked. Liv didn’t buy it for a minute.
    “Not to sound callous, Sheriff, but are we free to go?”
    Bill gave Pudge an appraising look. “Yes,” Bill said. “Quite free.”
    Eileen turned to Corinne. “Can I have my card back