Bubba Done It by Maggie Toussaint

Bubba Done It by Maggie Toussaint

Author:Maggie Toussaint
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: mystery, cozy mystery, paranormal mystery, women sleuth, psychic sleuth, amateur sleuth, dreamwalker mystery
Publisher: Muddle House Publishing
Published: 2020-02-11T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter 27

I refreshed my professional smile once again and leaned down into the driver’s open window. “Eunice. Bubba. Good to see you two. How’ve you been?”

The alcohol fumes boiling out of the car knocked me back. My breath hitched in my throat. It was barely noon and judging by Bubba Wright’s red, glassy eyes, he was sloshed. One strap of his faded overalls listed off his massive shoulders. His grizzled hair was closely shorn, his dark face clean-shaven.

Eunice shook her head sadly. A sense of desperation oozed from her full figure. “Not good. Not good at all. Ever since he got loose from the jail, my Bubba has been on a terrible drunk.” She poked her husband in the shoulder. “Tell ’er, Bubba.”

His slurred words were at least two-hundred proof. “I didn’t do it. I didn’t kill the banker.”

“Of course you didn’t.” I glanced over at Eunice. “What’s this all about?”

Bubba Wright pounded his fist on the torn center console. “They’re gonna get me. I ain’t going back to no jail, ain’t serving no time for a crime I didn’t do.” He heaved in a breath. “They always blame the black man.”

Worry etched Eunice’s face. “Can you help us, Baxley?”

Confusion rippled through me. “I don’t understand. What happened? Why do you think I can help?”

“You knows the system and you knows the sheriff. You told us to get Bubba an alibi and we did. But what if they stick it to him anyway? What then?”

My gut clenched and my hands went up defensively. “Wait a minute. I never said to manufacture an alibi. I only suggested that if someone had seen Bubba at the time of the murder, then the cops couldn’t hold him. I didn’t advise you to tell people to lie about his whereabouts.”

“Bubba didn’t do it,” his wife said. “He’s innocent, I tell you.”

“I believe you, Eunice, but lying about his whereabouts will blow up in your face. Where was Bubba on Monday afternoon?”

Eunice shook her head rapidly, fear clouding her brown eyes, despair dragging down her shoulders. “Those developers want us out. They’re gonna use this to railroad us so they can build those condos up and down the waterfront.” She waved a white envelope at me. “Looka here. Our taxes tripled for Shrimp ’n Stuff. Tripled. How are we supposed to pay dat? Who’s gonna pay triple for bait or fish? The good old boys are stickin’ it to us ’cause we got what dey want. They cain’t have our land.”

My brain whirred. I remembered another town where I’d lived and people suddenly faced increased taxes. A solution occurred to me. “Appeal the tax rate. They can’t make sweeping changes like this without allowing for an appeal process. I’m not a lawyer, but Daniel Huxley over at Coastal Watchdog is very aware of property regulations around here. He could help you file an appeal.”

“An appeal?” Eunice dragged out the word appeal for several seconds, rolling it around her mouth like foreign food. “What good would dat do?”

“It could get the rate overturned.



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