Another Dead Republican by Mark Zubro Read Free Book Online Page B

Scott’s activities on behalf of workers. Most professional athletes have unions and some even make statements supporting working people. Scott had issued statements, come to the state for rallies, and contributed substantial money to their causes. I’d joined him in many of these activities, but he’s famous and I’m not, so his presence was significant and mine wasn’t.
     
    Scott’s fame can be a pain in the ass. Even if this injury ended his career, he had what some said were already Hall of Fame numbers. Fans can be a nuisance. In public, usually a ball cap pulled low over the eyes and a pair of sunglasses disguised his identity from all but the most discerning. Our favorite restaurants helped by seating us as far from prying eyes as they could. Leaving huge tips didn’t hurt either and quite often people are willing to go out of their way to please a star.
     
    I said, “How long have you known Veronica?”
     
    “We first knew each other at the University of Iowa. We’ve kept in touch over the years. She and I meet for coffee, not as often as we’d like. Maybe three or four times a year. I’d never met old man Grum until today. I’d only seen him at the wedding and that was years ago. This morning, she called you first?”
     
    “Yeah. She called and we rushed up here. We arrived about dawn.”
     
    The door opened.
     

TWELVE
     
    Wednesday 9:21 A.M.
     
    Veronica stepped in. The women saw each other and hurried into each other’s arms.
     
    When they unclenched, I asked, “How are the kids?”
     
    Veronica hesitated. “I think. I guess.” She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue she held crumpled in one hand. She shook her head. “Numb. We’re all numb. I asked what they wanted to do. They want to go to their favorite pancake house to eat. They need to eat something. I’m going to take them to eat.”
     
    “Do you want us with you?” I asked.
     
    “No. I think it should just be me. I want them to be able to talk if they want to. They’re getting dressed. We’ll leave in just a minute.”
     
    Achtenberg asked, “Just a couple things before you go.”
     
    My sister halted with her hand on the doorknob.
     
    Achtenberg asked, “Do you have guns in the house?”
     
    Veronica’s hand flew to her throat. “The police told me he was shot.”
     
    “Yes. Did Edgar own a gun?”
     
    Veronica’s hand swept around the room taking in all the stuffed dead animals and lifeless representations of woodland critters. “For all this, he’s got an arsenal. I made him keep them in a storage shed out in the back. I wouldn’t let him have them in the house. It was the first fight after we got married. Then when we had kids, I made sure he had it double and triple locked. I was not going to have an accident with those things.”
     
    “You never touched them?”
     
    “Never. I don’t know what kinds he had. I didn’t want to know what he owned. I’ve never fired a gun.”
     
    Achtenberg said, “Good.”
     
    “Are they saying someone with one of Edgar’s guns…?” She couldn’t finish.
     
    Achtenberg said, “I’m covering all the bases. I want to anticipate what the police might ask.”
     
    Veronica nodded. “I’ve got to get to the kids.”
     
    “Anything we can do here?” I asked.
     
    She came over to the desk. “Yes, keep those people out of here. Before you showed up, Edgar’s family had already been talking about the family Trust. About inheritance. About the will. Already talking about it! I hate them! I hate them! I hate them!” She was breathing almost as hard as her father-in-law. Ms. Achtenberg put a hand on Veronica’s shoulder.
     
    Veronica took a huge breath, calmed somewhat. “Their son is dead, and they’re talking money. I’m going to need help fighting those people. Enid, can you go over our family papers with my brother and Scott? I know you can’t be here every minute, but the more people on my side who know how this works the better.”
     
    Enid