BM03 - Crazy Little Thing Called Dead Read Free

other side of the road.
    I took a deep breath and steeled myself for the worst as a Trooper opened the door and the lake rushed out. No bodies, thank God. Randy was moving around taking pictures through the windows, but there wasn’t much to see. There were some wrappers that hadn’t floated out, and a river rock on the gas pedal. Someone popped the trunk and we looked in at a couple of suitcases, correction, a suitcase and a rifle case - the Trooper had popped it open and it wasn’t even damp. I immediately thought of fingerprints. The rifle case was snapped shut and tagged, along with the suitcase. The car was pulled up onto the tow truck and the show was over.
    I walked over to the Trooper who had toweled off and redressed, he was tying his regulation black shoes and hadn’t left with the other cruisers. Beagle Annie stuck out her ears like flags, making her look like she knew something we didn’t, and focused her black rimmed eyes on the Trooper.
    “Did you get a look at that rifle?” I asked him.
    He looked up at me. “Yeah. Why?” He finished with his laces and stood, he was a good ten inches taller than me.
    “There was something different about it, I wondered if you knew what it was?” I crossed my fingers that he’d talk to me; otherwise I’d be searching Google images all afternoon.
    “It had a silencer on it.” He reached down to pat Beagle Annie and then straightened to put his hat on his head. She looked a little put out and I could tell she’d been just about to roll onto her back for a tummy rub.
    “Isn’t that kind of unusual?” I had no idea if it was unusual or not, but I was hoping he’d tell me.
    “Not much use for a silencer when you’re hunting in the woods. Take care.” He touched the brim of his hat and headed for his cruiser.
    Where do you hunt if you aren’t hunting in the woods? The city? There’s only one kind of prey in the city. If you don’t count the rats.
     
    ***
     
    I was at my desk with Beagle Annie under my feet, trying to figure out the connection between the murder and the car when Lucy Howe blew in the door. Beagle Annie growled low in her throat and my bitch-o-meter kicked on, but she wrote for the paper on occasion so I did my best to play nice.
    “Lucy.” I smiled but my face felt like plastic.
    “Bree.” Lucy didn’t look any more sincere than I felt. “I hear there was a murder in town. Care to share?”
    “News travels fast.” Way faster than I anticipated. Beagle Annie growled again, I hushed her.
    “It pays to have connections. Randy told me.” She smiled her superior I know how to get information out of people and you don’t smile.
    “I didn’t know you and Randy were close.” And poor Randy if you are.
    “I extended him a few favors, so he extends me some.” She shrugged.
    Ew .
    “We already have a front page spread on the dead guy, sorry,” I said.
    “It’s not for Meg. I’ve been engaged by the Valley News. They liked the idea of a local reporting on the story. And since The Star is a weekly and the News is a daily I’m going to be able to report more, sooner.” She left off the nyah, nyah, nyah nyah nyah , but it was implied.
    “You’d better talk to Tom then. I’m sure you don’t want second hand news from me.” I turned back to my keyboard. Beagle Annie’s low growls were vibrating on my foot, but Lucy couldn’t hear her.
    “You found the body. Nothing second hand about that. But if you won’t talk I can always go see Claire. I need a haircut.” She turned and left, the stink of her narcissistic superiority following after her.
    I picked up the phone.
    “Claire. Lucy Howe is headed your way. I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t say much.” I was tapping my fingers on my desk top, wondering how to beat Lucy at her own game.
    “She was here an hour ago. I didn’t tell her anything she wouldn’t have heard on the street.”
    I should have known . I would have preferred that she not say anything at all, but