The Welly Wheel Murder by Stephen John

Author:Stephen John
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Miss Fortune, Cozy Mystery, Cozy Murder, Detective, Strong female character, Crime, humor, action, adventure, amateur sleuths, female sleuths
Publisher: J&R Fan Fiction
Published: 2021-02-13T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Ida Belle, Gertie and I had breakfast and chatted over coffee. I dressed in sweats and went for a morning run while Ida Belle and Gertie covered more Louisiana history to prepare her for the triathlon.

My brain was churning a hundred miles an hour in all directions as I completed my run. There were a dozen different scenarios swirling around inside my head as I tried to piece together a connection between Bee Landry’s relationship with a shady bookie and Led Sweeney’s murder, and how all that might connect back to Clubfoot Charlie Fontenot.

Nothing was making sense.

I got back to my room, stripped and showered. My cell rang out from the nightstand. I was expecting a call from Carter, so I shut off the water and tiptoed to the phone. I was still dripping.

It was Brennan Noble, not Carter. I hit the little green button and said hello.

“Fortune,” he said, “It’s Brennan. I have some news.”

“Great. Tell me.”

“No. I need to talk to you in person.”

“Can this wait? I just stepped out of the shower. I’m stark naked and dripping wet . . . and as I say that out loud, I would like to take it back.”

“Oh, Fortune, if I batted from that side of the plate, that would do it for me . . . but no, this can’t wait.”

“OK, then. When? Where?”

“I’m on my way to your hotel now. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. I’ll need access to a computer.”

“That works. My room number is 2101. I have my laptop all set up.”

“Great.”

“I’ll order coffee.”

“Don’t bother. The only way I would accept a cup of hotel coffee is if I needed something to spray on a rusty car battery terminal. I’m bringing us both pumpkin spiced lattes from Caffe Latte Da. They might cool down a little in route. Do you have a . . .”

“Microwave? Yep. I have a kitchenette area in the room.”

“Awesome. See you in fifteen.”

I hung up the phone, partially blow dried my hair and dressed for the day in jeans, sneakers and a dark green t-shirt with black vertical stripes.

Brennan knocked on the door exactly sixteen minutes from when his call ended. He handed me a recyclable tray holding two cups of coffee.

“Forty seconds in the microwave should do the trick,” he told me.

“My laptop is on the table there. Help yourself. I’ll heat the coffees. You said you had some news?”

Brennan moved to the table and began typing, “I do. I called in a favor from a guy I know who helps me when I dig up background information. When all this originally went down, I didn’t care too much about Bee Landry’s background because he had an alibi. His wife corroborated his story and I didn’t see him as a suspect . . . not at that time, anyway.”

I placed the coffee in the microwave, programmed it for forty seconds, and hit the start button. The microwave whirred to life.

“I understand. Go on.”

“I found something.”

I raised my eyebrows, “Something interesting?”

“Very interesting.

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