The Complete Honey Huckleberry Box Set by Margaret Moseley

Author:Margaret Moseley [Moseley, Margaret]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: cozy, amateur sleuth, humor, Mystery & Detective, female sleuth
ISBN: 9781732065635
Publisher: Brash Books
Published: 2020-03-21T22:00:00+00:00

SEVENTEEN

I may have forgotten about Twyman, but Bondesky, strangely enough, had not.

“So, how’s the murder investigation going, Huckleberry?” was what he wanted to know as we unloaded the bags of money from my van. “You any closer to figuring out who done it?” It was half a joke and half serious. It kind of reminded me of when Twyman had asked me for help.

“Why do you ask, Bondesky?”

He was out of breath from hoisting the money, so he panted like Bailey when he answered, “Just curious. You’re good at that sort of thing. Just wondered what was going on.”

I don’t know much about murders and mysteries, but Janie has taught me one thing. When someone asks a question or behaves in a different manner, something’s going on. My wrong accusation of murder had once put Bondesky behind bars for a while. Somehow, I didn’t think that in his mind that qualified me for being good at investigating.

So, I asked again, “Why do you ask, Bondesky?”

He pulled the last of the improvised money bags into his office and collapsed into his desk chair. I responded to the waving motion of his hand by rummaging in his new executive refrigerator and popping open a bottle of Evian for him. Then I took one for myself. Money running is a tiring affair.

“How much money did you keep out?” he finally managed to say.

“Enough. Why are you not answering my question?”

Bondesky downed the second bottle I placed in front of him. He looked like he could have stood to have one poured over his head, too, but I resisted.

“Well, it’s like this.” He grinned that sly grin that people do—along with the eye thing—that lets you know you’ve caught onto them. “Someone asked me what you’d found out. That’s all.”

I did some mental calculations in my head. “Clover,” I concluded.

“Well, yeah. She really liked you, Huckleberry.”

“Does she think Twyman was offed, too?”

“Of course not,” he said quickly. Too quickly.

I assumed my usual hip-on-the-desk position and drank my yuppie water. “Then how did you two happen to talk about me thinking Twyman was murdered?”

“It kinda came up.”

“Right.”

“Okay. Okay. It’s like this, Huckleberry. She calls and she says you came out. Then she says why are you so interested in Twyman. I told her it was the ring, but she says she don’t think so. So maybe I mention you like to investigate murders.”

“Did she tell you about the cows and the ashes?”

“She might of mentioned them, yes.”

“And did she tell you she didn’t want the ring? Wouldn’t take it, in fact?”

“Ayup.”

“And does she think Twyman was murdered?” I didn’t think so, but I asked anyway. If Clover had suspected foul play, she would have requested an autopsy. Wouldn’t she?

“Nah. She doesn’t think the guy was murdered. But she wonders why you do.”

I changed the subject. “What are you going to do with the money, Bondesky?”

“Awww, put it here. Put it there. Don’t worry about the money, Huckleberry.”

That’s all I wanted to know about the piano money.

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