My Old Kentucky Homicide by Gin Jones

Author:Gin Jones
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: murder mystery, kentucky, southern mystery, bourbon trail
Publisher: Gemma Halliday Publishing

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The Dells settled at the kitchen table to wait for the arrival of lunch, and I excused myself to resume my search for a folding table. I hadn't seen one in the pantry earlier, so I didn't bother to look there, just headed out to check the housekeeping closet on the second floor.

I'd barely entered the lobby when the Hammett twins came down the stairs. One of them asked, "Did we miss the arrival of lunch?"

"It's late," Beck said. At least I assumed it was him, judging by his annoyed tone. It would be a lot easier to tell them apart if they'd adopted distinctively different clothing, but while they weren't obviously matched like Shelly and her daughter, the twins seemed to have adopted a generic, aging-preppy wardrobe of khakis and sport shirts. They didn't even have the courtesy to each choose a different, preferred color of shirt, since yesterday the one I was fairly sure was Beck had worn a navy shirt, while his brother wore a paler blue. Today, probably-Beck's shirt was yellow, while his brother's was off-white.

I checked my watch, and it was only a quarter past noon. Not early for the promised delivery between twelve and twelve-thirty, but not yet late either.

"I'm sure it will be worth the wait," I said.

Benn nodded toward the hallway to the kitchen. "We heard voices as we came down the stairs."

Beck added, "Thought you'd started without us."

"We'd never do that," I said. "But while we wait for the delivery, I could use a moment of your time."

"Do you know what our time is worth?" Beck asked snidely.

"I'm sure your time is quite valuable, but I think you'll want to hear what I have to say."

Both pairs of eyebrows rose. Beck said, "You mean the police have realized they're violating our constitutional rights, so we can go now?"

They were wrong, of course. Most non-lawyers were when it came to understanding the Fourth Amendment and how it limited—or in this case, failed to limit—police behavior. As long as we weren't under arrest, there was no prohibition against the deputy politely asking us to remain within his jurisdiction, with the understanding that if we then left, it would be an indication of guilt that would get the police looking more carefully at our possible role in a murder.

But the twins weren't paying me for a legal opinion, and they probably wouldn't believe me anyway. I settled for saying, "This has nothing to do with the deputy. I wanted to talk to you about the real reason why you're here this weekend: the inspection for the tourist association."

The two men didn't reveal any surprise, merely looked at each other, both raising one eyebrow in silent inquiry.

After a moment, Benn turned back to me. "That's excellent news. Since you know about it, it doesn't qualify as a secret inspection any longer, so there's no point in doing our report."

Beck, however, wasn't as pleased. "Oh, great. So this whole weekend has been a waste of our time.

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