Murder Passes the Buck Read Online Free PDF Page B

ruined her day. I would have thought the ride over with me driving for the first time would have been excitement enough.
    I grinned and held up a screwdriver and a hammer from Barney ’ s toolbox. “ We have work to do on the back door. Come on. ”
    I planned on prying between the door jamb and the lock with a screwdriver, but peeking in, I noticed the lock was a deadbolt. It ’ s impossible to pry a deadbolt. I found that out last time I locked myself out of my house after losing my keys.
    I tried turning the knob to see if the door was unlocked, which probably should have been my first step, but it didn ’ t matter since the door really was locked.
    I tried tapping gently on the glass with my hammer. Then I hauled off and smacked the window a sharp blow. Glass shattered at our feet. I said, “ Oops, ” as Cora Mae and I looked down simultaneously. I knocked the rest of the glass out of the doorframe with the hammer, stuck my hand through, and unlocked the door.
    We began searching in the kitchen. The place was a mess. Piles of litter overflowing from the garbage can, six weeks of dirty
     
    dishes stacked on the counter and scattered throughout the house, clothes tossed over chairs.
    I made notes in a spiral notebook in case something might be important later. My eye for detail is dead on, but my memory gets fuzzy now and then. I was careful to include everything, since clues to solving the case could be anywhere.
    In the living room, I noticed three guns resting in the gun rack next to the television and an old sofa with a dirty blanket draped over it shoved against a gray wall. I also noticed things that weren ’ t there. There weren ’ t any drapes or shades on the windows, and there weren ’ t any more smut magazines.
    We pulled out every drawer and went through every closet without finding anything unusual. I took a broom from the kitchen and swept up the glass and removed the shards still embedded in the frame of the window. I dumped the whole mess in a cardboard box and decided to haul it home with me to dispose of it.
    “ If all the window glass is gone, ” I reasoned out loud to Cora Mae, “ it might take longer for it to be discovered. Nothing like a pile of glass on the floor to draw attention where you don ’ t want it drawn. ” I reached
     
    through the window and relocked the door.
    I hit Chester ’ s mailbox with the bumper of Barney ’ s pickup truck on the way out and bent the post a bit, but likely he wouldn ’ t mind even if he were still alive.
    After dropping Cora Mae at her house, I headed home. The hole in the barn wall was a gaping reminder of my driving skills, and now guinea hens ran around the yard, squawking angrily.
    Guinea hens are useful for ridding your yard of wood ticks and deer ticks, which is quite a mission considering the diseases ticks carry. Guinea hens cluster together and move around the yard looking for bugs to eat and making a lot of noises. Since I brought home these twelve guineas, I haven ’ t had a single tick slip through.
    They ’ re a lot of work in the winter months, though. The raccoons like to snack on them, so I have to be careful to keep them inside at night and I have to buy feed for them.
    I looked at the sky, which was darkening rapidly, and studied the guinea hen situation. I crossed the drive and looked for Little Donny in the house, but he wasn ’ t there.
    Hauling the hens two by two, one under each arm, into the house, I shut them in the
     
    bathroom. It took a while because they started running from me after I caught the first two, probably thinking they were going to be tomorrow ’ s dinner.
    Worn out from the chasing., I collapsed on the couch, my heart racing.
    I was going to take a short break and then call George to repair the barn enough to hold the hens, but I must have drifted off for a spell. The next thing I knew, Little Donny was screaming and birds were running through the house flapping their wings, trying to go airborne.
    I