Eggs in a Casket (A Cackleberry Club Mystery) Read Online Free PDF

She fluttered her eyelids. “Lover boy.”
    “Sam?” said Suzanne. She was surprised. Most mornings his schedule was jammed with patients at the Westvale Medical Clinic. She took the phone. Said, “Sam?” again, this time into the phone.
    His voice came to her, smooth and mellow with a hint of huskiness. “I heard you were in on the big excitement this morning,” he said.
    She was taken aback. “You’re talking about Lester Drummond? How do you know about that? How on earth did you find out?” She worked hard to keep her voice low and turned her back to the room.
    “I’d say the entire town probably knows by now,” said Sam. “Plus, George Draper just called. He’s decided he wants Lester Drummond’s body transferred from his funeral home to the morgue at the hospital. So I’m on my way over there right now.”
    “No kidding.”
    “Yup. Draper pretty much gave me the whole story, blow by blow. Or at least as much as he knows.”
    “Did he tell you we saw Missy at the cemetery?”
    “He seemed to take particular delight in relating that part.”
    “Obviously this is a very weird situation,” said Suzanne, blowing out a long breath and running a hand through her hair.
    “I’d have to agree,” said Sam. “Although I can’t say Drummond’s death comes totally out of left field. From what I could see, he’d been aggressive and angry ever since he got fired from the prison.”
    “And then he was turned down for that big job at the bank,” said Suzanne.
    “Perhaps he was suffering from depression,” said Sam. “I suppose he could have overdosed on some sort of medication.”
    “Was he taking something?” Suzanne asked suddenly. “Something strong?”
    “No idea,” said Sam. “But if he was, he sure didn’t get his scrip from me.”
    Suzanne hesitated. “What worries me most is that Doogie is going to be questioning Missy. He finds it exceedingly strange that she was at the cemetery this morning.”
    “Well, so do I,” said Sam.
    “When Toni and I ran into Missy . . .” Suzanne began. “Or rather, she almost ran into us . . . with her car. She looked absolutely terrified.” Suzanne knew her voice had risen an octave. Nowhere near hysterical, but edging into worry.
    “Got any idea what she was fleeing from?”
    “No. But I can take a wild guess.”
    “I can hear the concern in your voice,” said Sam.
    “Here’s the thing,” said Suzanne. “I think Doogie might be looking for a fall guy.”
    “Or girl,” said Sam.
    “But he’s dead wrong about Missy.”
    Sam kept his voice neutral. “I’m sure he is.”
    “Do you have to work tonight?” she asked. She suddenly needed him. Wanted desperately to talk to him, longed to feel his arms wrapped protectively around her body.
    “I’m on call tonight,” he told her. “But tomorrow night, that’s reserved strictly for us. No ifs, ands, or buts.”
    * * *
    IF Suzanne had a dollar for every time one of her lunch customers asked her about Lester Drummond, she would have been well on her way to a very comfortable retirement.
    “Drummond’s death is all people seem to be talking about,” Toni hissed when they met behind the counter. “The news has spread like wildfire all over town.”
    Suzanne nodded. “It sure has. Sam said they’re talking about it at the clinic, too.”
    Toni cocked an eye toward a table of four older men. Two were dressed in overalls, while two wore T-shirts, jeans, and John Deere caps. “You see those guys over there?” she said.
    “Yes?”
    “Their theory is that Drummond got offed by some woman.”
    “Why would they say that?” asked Suzanne.
Why indeed?
    “They were kind of guffawing about the fact that he was such a notorious skirt chaser.”
    “Well, he was,” said Suzanne. “And clearly lots of people knew that.”
    “Only problem is,” said Toni, in an ominous tone, “the most recent skirt he chased belonged to Missy.”
    “I’m sure she has a perfectly good explanation for