A Crusty Murder by J. M. Griffin Read Free Book Online Page B

stood together and explained about why we were here and how important it was to help one another.
    “The transition to a new landlord doesn’t need to be difficult,” George said. “I’ve had a call from Cindy Peterson. She’ll temporarily collect the rents. Cindy’s not sure how long that’ll be. I guess she plans to move to New York City and would have done so within the next few weeks if her mother hadn’t died.”
    George glanced at me and nodded. I picked up where he left off. “George, BettyJo, and I have been discussing the death of Mrs. Peterson. If anyone here has information to share about our landlady and who might want to harm her, this is your moment to talk about it. Even the smallest and least important detail can be helpful in the search for her murderer.”
    Carl Mack poked his business partner, Bill Mutton, in the ribs. The two men operated Mack & Mutt’s Pizzeria in the end unit of our building. Carl’s blue eyes sparkled with humor as he said, “That list would be longer than Santa’s gift list, Melina. How are we to know who would or wouldn’t do such a thing?”
    A murmur of agreement rustled around the room. Carl had a point, but in our businesses, we often hear more than we realize. I nodded at Carl and answered, “You have a point, but like it or not, you are in a position to hear more than the rest of us when it comes to gossip.” I pointed to the two men and said, “A business like yours, where people gather to eat, is generally ripe with conversational tidbits. You may not even know what you’ve heard is important. If you remember something, let me know. That’s all I ask. BettyJo and I are on the list of suspects at the moment. It’s an extremely uncomfortable place to be and we need your help.”
    Stretching her long fingers out, Sondra Greenfield examined her dark red, painted, claw-like fingernails in a bored manner. Sondra’s high-end apparel store lay next door to BettyJo’s shop. Once she’d studied her manicure to her satisfaction, she glanced around the room.
    “I don’t know about the rest of you, but that Peterson woman was a nasty bitch who got what was coming to her. I’d like to know, though, just how your bread got into her mouth, Melina,” Sondra asked.
    I heard a slight gasp and then Sondra said, “Sorry, Seanmhair. I didn’t mean to use rude language in your presence.”
    Seanmhair nodded, winked at me, and leaned back on the sofa. Nobody knew, to my knowledge, anyway, that my grandmother had been to a strip joint with her man friend who’d had a lap dance. If they’d known, there’d have been no apology.
    “To clarify that assumption for all of you, the bread wasn’t mine,” I remarked. “I have no idea where it came from, but it was certainly meant to incriminate me. Why Mrs. Peterson was left in this shop is another mystery.”
    “So you’re planning to solve the crime instead of allowing the police department to earn their wages?” asked Kristina Papien, of the Pots & Plants Flower Shop situated next door to Mack & Mutt’s. Her unruly dark hair sprang out from her head and bobbed all over the place. It appeared as though she’d recently touched live electrical wires with a devastating effect. Oval shaped, artistic rimmed glasses perched on her small nose. Those piercing almond-shaped eyes missed nothing. Her athletic build, muscular runner’s legs, along with her height left me wishing I worked out more.
    In a flash, I thought of what Detective Graham’s reaction would be to her words. I scowled. “I’m not about to interfere with their job. My intention is to ensure my name and BettyJo’s are clear. We don’t propose to spend one moment in jail for a crime neither of us committed.”
    “I didn’t mean to be annoying. I only want public servants to earn their wages. We have to earn ours as business owners, so they should do so, as well,” Kristina asserted.
    She’d been on a political rant since the first time she’d seen the