Murder Talks Turkey Read Online Free PDF Page B

“A hundred thousand. That’s what Deputy Snell said. All missing.”
“Serves ‘em all right,” Grandma said.
“Come on, Fred.” I grabbed Fred’s leash from a hook by the door and hurried out with him at my side.
Something had happened, and I was missing it.

    CHAPTER SIX

    “LET HER OUT,” DICKEY WAS saying to Blaze when I slipped into the sheriff’s office. Fred howled from the truck, which is what he always does when I leave him behind. He sounded like an entire wolf pack.
    Kitty, pin curls and all, sat on a cot behind the jail bars. “Why did you him lock you up?” I wanted to know.
    “It seemed easier than fist fighting with him,” she replied. “I planned on defending myself only if he got out a rope and started making a noose.”
    “Release her this moment.” Dickey was puffing up like a Tom turkey.
    Blaze jiggled the keys and leaned back in the sheriff’s chair. “She broke the speed limit on the way over. Probably broke the speed of sound, if that’s possible. She’s a menace to society, and she’s staying locked up until traffic court convenes.”
    Sounded good to me. Kitty liked to blow through town like a tornedo, taking corners on two wheels, and practicing other tomfoolery usually reserved for delinquent teenagers. I gripped the bars and pressed my face against the cold steel. “Anything rhetorical to say about your situation?” I said to her, using my word for the day.
“We need an ereption of those keys,” Kitty said, using hers. Badly, I might add.
“You quit that foul talk,” Blaze shouted. “Or I’ll keep you locked up for the rest of the week. I’ll throw away the key.”
I grinned. “Could you repeat that, Kitty? I didn’t quite hear you.”
Kitty swung her eyes at Blaze, then whispered, “Get me out of here. Please.”
“In a minute,” I said, turning to Dickey. “I heard money is missing from the credit union.”
Our stand-in sheriff nodded his head. “A significant amount of money has been taken.”
“How do you account for that? The robber was stopped dead in his tracks.”
“An accomplice.”
“The guy was in the bank alone.”
“An inside job.”
    Dickey Snell had figured that out on his own. Amazing. College boys are known for big words, not common sense. Blaze must have helped him with that deduction.
The howling outside subsided somewhat.
“The next time I find Blaze inside this facility,” Dickey said. “I’m putting him behind bars for trespassing.”
“You do that,” I replied, looking tough, “and you have me to answer to.”
Dickey snorted.
“Remember me,” Kitty called from behind bars. “I have to go, you know, and I’m not using this open—
“Okay,” I said. “Blaze, give me the keys and I’ll watch her. You have to check out your house.”
“Why do I have to do that?”
    “You know why.” I made the universal money sign by rubbing my thumb across my fingers to remind him of his hidden millions. “You have to make sure it’s all accounted for. I’ll drive you over.”
    Blaze caught my drift and bolted for the door, tossing the keys at me. I hated to see the look of concern on his face, but short of wrestling him to the ground, it was the only way.
    Before I let Kitty out, I made her say ereption six times as fast as she could. “That was for doing such a poor job of watching my son,” I said.
    “This is your last official warning,” Dickey said. “Keep him home.”
    __________

    Hunting seasons always remind me of my Milwaukee grandson, Little Donny, because he usually comes for every one of them. He loves the wildness of our land and he fits in well with the people here, even though he’s had some unusual experiences and hasn’t managed to shoot anything.
    One time, Little Donny stunned a buck and loaded him in Carl’s station wagon. Then the buck woke up. What a mess that made of Carl’s wagon before we got the car door open and let the deer run off.
    Nineteen-year-old Little Donny has a new job in Milwaukee so