Brandy and Bullets by Jessica Fletcher & Donald Bain

Author:Jessica Fletcher & Donald Bain [Fletcher, Jessica & Bain, Donald]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery
ISBN: 9780451184917
Publisher: Signet
Published: 1994-12-31T23:00:00+00:00

Chains or no chains, we did a lot of slipping and sliding as Jake navigated the narrow, ascending road leading to the Worrell Mansion. “Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea,” I said.

“I can handle it,” he said, his eyes fixed on what could be seen of the road in front of us. “Got thirty-five-years experience driving in this neck of the woods, Mrs. Fletcher. Not even a fender bender. Out-of-towners cause all the problems. Don’t know what in hell they’re doin’ in snow.”

“I’ve noticed,” I said. I thought back to having been in New York City the previous winter. It snowed less than two inches one day, but the entire city was paralyzed. They say New Yorkers are tough, can handle muggings, pollution, roaches, and grid-lock. But when it comes to snow, even umbrellas go up. Washington, D.C. is even worse. The first sign of ice and the city shuts down. If I were a nation planning an attack on the United States, it would be launched during an ice storm in the nation’s capital. No one in government comes to work.

“Like him,” Jake said as a car approached from the opposite direction. After we’d safely passed each other, Jake muttered, “Probably break his damn fool neck by the time he gets down to the bottom.”

“Jake, do you ever think about leaving Cabot Cove and moving to somewhere where it’s warm in winter? Florida? California?”

“Nope. Like it just fine right here.”

“I have a friend who went to California from here because he hated cold and snow.”

“That so?”

“Yes. Norman Huffaker. The man they say killed himself this morning at Moose River.”

“Uh-huh.”

“He hated snow. Especially driving in it. This may sound silly, but I don’t think he would have picked the day of a blizzard to kill himself, to drive on these roads.”

Jake laughed. “Seems to me when a fella decides to kill himself, he ain’t goin’ to worry about gettin’ into an automobile accident.”

“I suppose you’re right. Still, knowing Norm.”

Norm despised snow. “Just think, I’ll never have to drive in this stuff again,” he’d joked at his going-away party. “It’s not civilized to have to contend with ice and snow just to run out for a quart of milk.” His gloating over escaping to a warmer climate evidently made someone up there angry, because it snowed an unprecedented thirty-seven inches the next day, delaying Norm and Jill’s flight to California by two days. “Must have been a jealous God who got himself demoted to the Northeast,” he’d said.

Michael O’Neill was standing at the reception desk when I entered the lobby. I’d invited Jake in, but he declined. “Place gives me the creeps,” he’d said, opting to wait in his cab.

“Hello there, Jessica. I’m surprised to see you here. The weather is dreadful.”

“I really wanted to get Norm’s things, Michael. I have a taxi waiting outside. Is everything ready to go?”

“Yes. All here, as promised.”

I surveyed the items in front of me. A Compac laptop computer in a padded case, a suitcase, two smaller bags, and a box labeled, MISCELLANEOUS.

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