Muskie Falls: A Page-Turning Mystery Thriller With Jaw-Dropping Twists and Turns (The Frank Yakabuski Mystery Series Book 4) by Ron Corbett

Author:Ron Corbett [Corbett, Ron]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ottawa Press and Publishing
Published: 2023-11-22T00:00:00+00:00

O’Toole wasn’t in the Coachman when Yakabuski entered. Everyone else was. The four men were playing cards, sitting at two tables they had pushed together, near the shuffleboard. Newton sat at a table near the bar, reading a book.

“Where’s the inspector?” he asked

“In the back room,” answered Newton. “He’s been on the phone all day. He’s barely come out. Just to get coffee when a fax has come in. He’s been swearing about why they don’t have two phone lines. You don’t want to talk to him about it . . . the way that man drinks coffee. It’s amazing.”

As Newton talked, the men gave Yakabuski a wary look, then went back to playing cards. He walked to their table and saw they had a small deck. A euchre game. He took a few seconds to give each of them a look. One of them was a killer and should be getting nervous by now. Three days since they’d killed a man. Two days since they started bunking out with a carload of cops from Springfield. Yes, one of them should be giving out signs.

Thomson was shaking, but he had old-man tremors. The boy was shaking too, but he was a young drunk. Lafleur was waving his cards in front of his face, as if trying to hide, but he was showing his cards at the same time and he was a poor card player. Stoppa looked wound up and edgy, but he was Leon Stoppa.

“Yeah, the inspector seems a bit stressed,” Stoppa said. “Things not going well for you boys?”

Yakabuski didn’t answer. He watched Stoppa shuffle the cards and deal them out. Lafleur was his partner and Yakabuski wasn’t surprised to see that. Although the two men goaded and bad-mouthed each other, they had nicknames for one another that weren’t necessarily insults, and you didn’t normally do that if you hated the guy.

“So, who’d all you talk to today?” Stoppa asked, as Yakabuski stood behind his chair and looked at the cards he had dealt himself.

“Everyone else in Muskie Falls. They send their love.”

He snorted. “I’m sure they do. You went all the way out to Buddy’s, did you?”

All the way out to Buddy’s. Yakabuski almost laughed. Bushmen could travel hundreds of miles down a river, you could probably drop them in some bay in the Arctic and they could travel thousands of miles and find their way back home. They could walk through the woods all day and find any lake you wanted, they could walk right over you on a portage, carrying gear and a canoe, you’re dying, they ask if you’re all right — but they can make the other side of town sound like the dark side of the moon.

“Yeah, I made it out to Buddy’s. Saw the Hastings and the McGee’s, too.”

“They’re still alive, are they?”

“Leon . . . that’s a nasty thing to say,” said Lafleur, still waving cards in front of his face. “You know perfectly well they’re alive. Mrs. McGee, she’s a nice woman.

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