Dead Broke in Jarrett Creek: A Samuel Craddock Mystery (Samuel Craddock Mysteries) Read Online Free PDF

youth, but what I don’t understand is what the girl gets out of it.
    “I’ll tell you what’s gotten into Gabe LoPresto,” she says, “That little Darla Rodriguez is a troublemaker. You know she and Gary had a little thing going before she took up with Gabe.”
    “Loretta, how would I know that?”
    “Because everybody else does. You haven’t been paying attention. Maybe Gary wouldn’t leave Darla alone, and Gabe shot him.”
    I stand up. “It may be that you’re right, but I’ll reserve judgment until I know more about it. And you shouldn’t go around spreading that kind of gossip.”

Loretta is leaving when the phone rings. It’s Rusty Reinhardt with news that sends me out the door ten minutes later.
    “You all know why I’ve called you here.” Reinhardt’s mustache is drooping as if he’s been pulling the ends of it down to match his mood.
    He’s called an emergency meeting of the committee that met last night, and we’re back at the American Legion Hall. Everybody but Jenny has managed to make the meeting. She’s in court today and couldn’t be reached. The six of us have gravitated to the same seats we sat in last night, which means we are all acutely aware of Gary Dellmore’s empty seat.
    It would be nice if the meeting was in a more agreeable spot. The American Legion Hall is convenient, but that’s the only thing to say for it. We’re sitting on hard metal folding chairs around a long rectangular table scarred with use. The lighting makes all of us look like we’ve got green-tinted skin. Worse, the place smells of mold and the accumulation of years of people holding their family events here. I can pretty much guarantee that last weekend somebody served barbecue and potato salad and beer. And if I’m not mistaken, the toilets have backed up recently.
    “Seeing what happened to Gary, we’ve got to get some law established in town,” Reinhardt says.
    Heads nod. Everybody looks distressed and a little guilty at all the fuss they made last night, even if it was mostly Dellmore who stirred everybody up.
    Reinhardt tells them that as of this morning James Harley Krueger and two of the deputies have resigned.
    “You can hardly blame James Harley,” Jim Krueger says. The school principal, he’s also James Harley’s dad. There’s a trace of anger in his voice. “He knew he was going to be out of a job. He had to find work. He doesn’t have the luxury of giving away his time.”
    “No one blames him.” Marietta Bryant reaches over to pat his hand.
    Marietta is the city administrator who took office six months ago and discovered the disaster. A part-time realtor who wears crisp suits and neat little earrings, she has perfect posture. Usually warm and friendly, she had a few sharp exchanges with Dellmore last night when he questioned whether the town’s finances were as bad as everyone said. “You better believe it’s that bad,” she said. “Alton Coldwater should have known better than to invest in that water park.”
    Reinhardt says, “Jim, no one is sorrier than I am that we can’t pay James Harley, but we simply don’t have the money.”
    Slate McClusky was so quiet last night that everybody’s a little startled when he pipes up. “I wonder if the city council ought to be in charge of this?” As usual, he asks this with a bright-eyed smile. In his late forties, he’s a well-kept man, tall and rangy, with a thick head of hair that has a good bit of gray in it. Today he looks a little rumpled. Even his usually carefully groomed hair looks untended. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen McClusky frown. He always seems eager to shake hands and tends to step in a little too close when he talks to people.
    “We discussed this matter last night,” Reinhardt says, “and if we turn it over to the city council, they’ll have to start from the beginning. Now I’ve got a proposal to make.” Reinhardt looks over at me, so everybody else looks my way, too. “I propose that we ask