Nothing Funny About Murder by Maxwell Mary

Author:Maxwell, Mary
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2022-02-16T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 23

When I walked into Gas & Go a short time later, Fred Bidelspach was behind the counter. He was flipping through a battered atlas and making notes on the back of a brown paper bag.

“Getting ready for a hiking trip,” he explained after a quick greeting. “I like comparing the old-school maps to what’s online these days.” He let out a long breath and shook his head. “Nothing stays the same, Katie. Not one dang thing.”

“That’s very true,” I replied. “The only thing that’s guaranteed is change.”

He grinned. “What about death and taxes?”

“Good point,” I answered. “No escaping those for any of us.”

Fred rumbled a laugh. “But what does it matter? We’re alive today, right?”

“Definitely,” I agreed. “That’s the spirit!”

“You here about that special delivery?” He grinned; the lower teeth were uneven and coffee-stained. “It’s not every day that I end up in the middle of a clandestine package drop.”

“That makes two of us,” I said. “But you’re right; I’m here to retrieve the package that you found earlier. I’d also like to ask you a couple of questions about Owen McKenna’s visit today.”

At the mention of my friend’s name, the sleepy grin on Fred’s face brightened considerably. “How about that, huh? A genuine Hollywood celebrity!”

“We don’t see too many of those folks around here,” I said.

“I met an Elvis impersonator once,” Fred replied. “He obviously wasn’t the real thing, but it was close enough for me. I even got his autograph.”

He pointed at a framed publicity shot on the wall behind the register. It showed a chubby bald man wearing a white spangled jumpsuit with a red silk scarf around his neck. The handwritten note at the bottom read: To Fred. Thanks for everything! Evlis.”

I leaned over the counter for a closer look. “I think he misspelled something.”

Fred grinned. “Nope. That was his stage name. Seeing as how he didn’t look a thing like Presley, Evlis flipped them two letters around so nobody would sue him in court.”

I nodded at the explanation. Then I asked Fred to tell me about Owen’s visit and the message that he left behind.

“It was pretty quiet in here,” he said. “Kind of a slow day. I was rearranging the Doritos on the rack over there when two guys in a dark blue sedan pulled in and stopped at the nearest pump.”

“Did you get a good look at the driver?”

Fred sneered. “Unfortunately, I saw him up close and personal. He was a Grade A jerk. He had horrible breath and there were bits of food in his beard.”

“Can you describe what he was wearing?”

“I sure can,” he said with a mischievous grin. “Clothes.”

“Care to be more specific?”

“Fancy duds,” he added. “Big, old expensive wristwatch about the size of a dinner plate. And snakeskin boots with a leather jacket and black T-shirt. His jeans looked brand-new. The legs were creased like he pays somebody to iron them.”

“And how did he seem?” I asked. “What was his mood?”

“He was a pushy guy with a whole lot of attitude.

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