Trifecta of Murder (Booker Falls Mystery Series) by Kenn Grimes

Author:Kenn Grimes [Grimes, Kenn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cozy Cat Press
Published: 2017-07-10T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY

George shuffled the deck of playing cards and studied the other three men seated around the table: Clarence Hurstbourne, the local judge; Frank Mitchell, Myrtle’s boss at the library; and Malcolm Middleton, who owned most of the homes in Greytown, that area of Booker Falls many of the miners called home. Conspicuously absent were two men who had been regular participants in the weekly game: Rudy Folger and Isaiah Steinmyer, both recent murder victims.

The game was a weekly event and, for some of the participants, had been for more than thirty years. George was the newest member, having been invited to join eight years ago following the death of Finn O’Halloran, one of the original members.

In the beginning, the game had rotated among the various players’ homes. But the first time George hosted, the others were so impressed by his exquisite poker table, with its bright baize covering and its twelve wells—six for chips and six for drinks—they had continued to meet thereafter only at his home. The excellent spirits from George’s pantry—Four Roses bourbon from Kentucky and Glenmorangie scotch from Scotland—made even Frank forego his usual Southern Comfort. The roast beef sandwiches and deviled eggs prepared with pickle relish by Mrs. Delahanty served as icing on the cake.

George pushed the pile of cards to Judge Hurstbourne, on his right, who cut them. Then George dealt out five cards to each player, including himself.

The game was five card draw.

It had always been five card draw.

Frank suggested once they might try something different, say, seven card stud.

“If you want to play a different card game,” said Judge Hurstbourne, “I suggest you attend the Ladies Auxiliary over at the Lutheran Church. I understand they’re into euchre.”

That was the last time Frank suggested changing the game.

“Anybody given any thought as to who we’re going to get to replace Rudy and Isaiah?” asked the judge, chewing on his cigar as he studied his cards.

“Good Lord, Clarence,” said Malcolm. He was the only one who never referred to Judge Hurstbourne as ‘Judge.’ “The men haven’t even been dead a week.”

“Yah,” said George. “They just put Isaiah and Rachel in the ground yesterday, and Rudy’s funeral isn’t until tomorrow.”

“I didn’t realize there was a required period of mourning for dead poker players,” said the judge.

George shook his head.

“How about the constable?” asked Hurstbourne. “George, you’re a good friend of his. Do you think he’d be interested in joining us?”

George scratched the back of his neck. “I doubt it,” he said. “I don’t think Henri has the kind of money it takes for our game.”

“How about Isaiah’s son, then?” asked Malcolm. “Nathan—is that his name? I heard he’s back in town. And with his sister and father both dead now, he’ll likely inherit the whole shooting match.”

“I could ask him,” said George, with little enthusiasm, knowing the other men weren’t aware that Nathan was a suspect in at least one of the murders.

Malcolm turned to Frank, who had been silent throughout the whole conversation. “Frank, you haven’t said anything.

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