Murder Bites the Bullet: A Gertie Johnson Murder Mystery Read Online Free PDF

back corner of the cabin. That way he didn’t have to bother with fair sportsmanship. He could blast away from the comfort of his home, taking out game without having to work for it. Only, I didn’t like that his latest target was me.
    “Who’s out there?” Frank called from the direction of the porthole.
    The tip of his rifle poked out.
    As always, I had several options. I could turn myself in to Frank and suffer the consequences, which wouldn’t be too severe, other than alerting the entire Hanson clan that I was up to something. Whatever lie I told Frank wouldn’t cut the mustard, and they’d start watching me. They’d be especially attentive if it was true that Chet had shot Harry. Then I might find myself in the same position, facedown at my kitchen table with my brains oozing slowly out of big bullet holes.
    Another option would be for Kitty to show up like she was supposed to. She could lob firecrackers at the front of the house to give me time to escape. But since that wasn’t happening, I decided on the last option.
    I had weapons, too. An investigator has to have a defense arsenal. Heck, every woman alive should have one if she wants to stay that way. I pulled out my trusty pepper spray.
    “I know you’re hiding by the house,” he called out. “Walk slowly into the light. I won’t shoot as long as you cooperate. Otherwise, I’m coming out there after you and you won’t like what I’ve going to give you.”
    Palming the spray, I dropped the knapsack quietly to the ground and edged toward the porthole. Once I was right next to it, my arm shot out like a flash of lightning. At the same time, my thumb pressed down firmly on the canister’s button. A blast of spray rocketed into Frank’s house.
    Then I turned, grabbed the knapsack, and ran as fast as I could.
    Based on the colorful language spewing from the porthole, I’d managed a direct hit.
    I couldn’t help grinning.
     
    *
     
    “I haven’t been sleeping too well,” Kitty said as we disappeared into the night, my so-called partner behind the wheel.
    “You were sleeping just fine when I got back to the truck,” I said, totally disgusted. “And slow down before you kill us. I can’t believe you fell asleep when you were supposed to be backing me up.”
    “I said I was sorry.”
    “And watch the road.” Kitty had a habit of driving with her head turned toward the person next to her. I haven’t figured out how she does that without running off the road.
    “I’ll do anything to make it up to you,” she said next.
    “Okay, fine, you can watch Frank’s house until morning,” I decided. “And while you’re at it, you can figure out how to plant the camera.”
    “He’s not going anywhere.”
    “How do you know?”
    “Because I let the air out of his tires.”
    “You had time to let the air out of his tires and take a nap.” I considered zapping her with my stun gun.
    “I did the air thing earlier. Even before you picked me up.” Kitty grinned in the dark, watching me instead of the road, but staying on the right side of the centerline. “I’ve been partnering with you long enough to anticipate your every move.”
    “Then you should have known I was eating dirt, dodging real bullets, and risking my life while you sawed wood. Here.” I plopped the knapsack between us. “Plant the camera.”
    “What’s the point anyway? Frank isn’t going to walk out into his backyard and confess.”
    “It’s a camera, Kitty, it doesn’t record voices. It records movement.”
    “Then what’s the point?” She took a sharp corner at breakneck speed.
    “It’s where a good investigator starts. By knowing exactly what the mark is up to every minute of the day and night. And since some of us sleep on the job, we have to go with what we can trust through the night.”
    “What’s the plan for tomorrow?”
    “I’ll let you know tomorrow.”
    Which meant I had absolutely no idea.
     
    *
     
    Word For The Day
    WAXED (waksd)
    Treated with