Murder Passes the Buck Read Online Free PDF

And I need the name and address for Chester ’ s son. ”
    There was a long silence, then, “ Why? ”
    “ I ’ m going to interrogate him. See what I can turn up. ”
    “ I ’ ll arrest you if you do. ”
    There was a loud bang as Blaze slammed out the door.
    “ Blaze is still mad about the horse thing, ” Star said over the telephone when I called
     
    her. “ He sure does hold a grudge a long time. ”
    My baby, Star, and I used to talk on the phone every day, but lately she hasn ’ t been around much. She swore off men after her good-for-nothing husband finally ran off, but it looks like she ’ s getting back in the saddle. She ’ s being coy about it, though.
    “ He says he changed his name to Brian, ” I told her. I was washing dishes, trying not to clang pans while I talked. I had the phone on my right shoulder, wedged between my head and shoulder.
    “ Ma, nobody takes him seriously. Sometimes they call him Bucky or Bronco to tease him. But he ’ s tried to change it to Brian for years. Where have you been? ”
    “ I ’ ve been busy. ”
    My other kids never complained about the names I chose for them. Star and Heather were happy, so I couldn ’ t figure Blaze out. Blaze is a nice name — original, manly. “ He has a John Wayne name, ” I said.
    “ He has John Wayne ’ s horse ’ s name, ” Star said.
    At least I should get points for originality. I didn ’ t name them Barney Junior, Barney Senior, and Barney the Third.
    “ Do you know the name of Chester ’ s son? ” I asked Star, steering the conversation
     
    in the right direction. “ I heard he lives on the east side of Stonely toward Trenary. ”
    “ Wasn ’ t it terrible what happened to Chester? I think his son ’ s name is Bill. Bill Lampi. ”
    “ Thanks, sweetie. I just wish Blaze and I were more simpatico. ” I pronounced it slowly, reading from my scrap of paper.
    “ What? ”
    “ It ’ s my word for the day, ” I explained. “ Blaze must be under a lot of stress. He threatened to arrest me today. ”
    “ I ’ m sure he didn ’ t mean it. Just don ’ t give him a reason. ”
    Cora Mae almost fell off her high-heel boots when she came out and saw me driving Barney ’ s truck up her driveway. “ Wheel You can drive! ”
    I didn ’ t tell her that I rammed a big hole the size of a meteor in the side of the barn when I accidentally shifted into forward instead of reverse. I was starting to get the hang of it, except for braking. I silently thanked Cora Mae for her circle driveway. I wouldn ’ t have to try to back down.
    “ Hop in. ”
    Cora wore a black turtleneck sweater, black stretch pants, and a fake fur vest jacket, also black.
     
    “ I told you to wear orange, Cora Mae. Out-of-town hunters are creeping all over the place. You look like a black bear. One of them is going to shoot your buns off. ”
    “ Honey, orange just isn ’ t my color, but I can see it ’ s yours. ”
    Another hair joke. And from the woman who did it to me.
    I was working on a quick comeback when I accidentally slammed on the brakes at the bottom of Cora Mae ’ s driveway instead of the gas.
    Cora flew forward.
    “ Better put on your seatbelt till I get the hang of this, ” I said, starting up again.
    Chester lived in a cracker box about a quarter mile from his hunting blind. You could see he wasn ’ t much of a handyman because the house was an eyesore — peeling green paint, rotting wood porch, bare windows.
    Cora stepped gingerly over a gaping hole in the porch and peeked into the front window. “ No one ’ s home, Gertie. We better come back another time. ”
    “ Of course no one ’ s home. Chester ’ s wife ’ s been in her grave for years, and since Chester ’ s dead, we can safely assume he isn ’ t going to answer the door. ”
    “ But why are we standing here if you knew
     
    no one was going to let us in? ” Cora Mae ’ s penciled eyebrows were shaped like a question mark and she looked at me like I had