Read 3 Strange Bedfellows for Free Online Page B

off the hook. I managed to sleep for three whole hours. First time I've slept in days. So what have you found out?"
    "Not much, I'm afraid."
    Will exploded. "What do you mean, 'not much'? Damn it, this is no time to get all California laid-back!"
    "Hey, I'm working on it, trust me," I said, and proceeded to tell him about the impromptu bedroom conference that I'd crashed at the funeral.
    I could feel Will's excitement pouring through the phone line. "Of course! Why didn't I think of that?"
    "Think of what?"
    "Robert Pierce! He's the most power hungry sonufabitch in the world. I heard that when the party endorsed the Hack instead of him, he got so mad he punched somebody out. The guy’s mentally unstable. I'll bet he killed the Hack!"
    I thought Will was really reaching, but I didn't argue. I'd already done way too much arguing for one night. "I'll look into it," I said.
    But Will read me perfectly. "You think I'm nuts, don't you?"
    "Not at all —"
    "Jake, you gotta nail this guy. My life is turning into a bad Kafka novel. I had to cancel all my campaign appearances and hide in my house with the curtains down. The reporters are waiting on my front lawn with TV vans and antennas and stuff. And meanwhile I left messages for my volunteers and nobody's even calling me back. I'll bet they've all stopped passing out leaflets."
    How could he think about leaflets at a time like this? Didn't he realize his campaign was deader than Milli Vanilli's career? Must be more of that avoidance thing. "Listen, it's good you're staying home. I'm sure your lawyer would tell you —"
    "Lawyer? Who has money for a lawyer?"
    "Don't be stupid. You need a—"
    "Why? I'm innocent. No way I'm gonna pay a lawyer and lose this house."
    "I'll be glad to lend you the money—"
    "Enough already. Look, the election's only thirteen days away. If you can't clear my name before then, I'll never get elected!"
    It was so late, and I was so burned out, that I said exactly what I was thinking—always a dangerous policy. "Buddy, save your breath. Forget the election. Even if I do clear your name, you don't have the ghost of a ghost of a chance—"
    "Are you kidding? This is my golden opportunity. The Republicans are stuck with a write-in campaign, and most people are too dumb and lazy to figure out how to write someone in. The Hack's death was an incredibly lucky break!"
    I sighed. "Glad to hear it. But since that's a murder motive, you might not want to spread it around too much," I said, and hung up.

4
     
    I lay awake half the n ight trying to dream up an organized plan of attack, but came up empty. The next morning, as soon as we got the kids off to the bus, I went down to the news stand on Broadway and checked the front pages of all the upstate newspapers.
    The papers were filled with speculation about who would get the endorsement —smart money was still on Pierce—but nobody had anything fresh on the murder. Apparently the cops hadn't found any new evidence. Furthermore, the Troy police chief confirmed that the murder weapon's serial numbers were filed off and the gun was untraceable. Of course, none of this bothered the editorial writers in the slightest. They all simply assumed Will was guilty.
    Did the filed off serial numbers indicate some sort of hardened criminal was involved?
    Badly in need of a pick-me-up, I grabbed some morning caffeine at Madeline's, where I ran into my old friend Dave Mackerel. Thanks to my tireless matchmaking efforts, Dave was now dating Madeline herself. The two of them had hosted a coffee for Will after I twisted their arms, and Dave wasted no time giving me grief about it.
    "Hey, Jake," he started in, "next time you ask me to throw a party for som eone, make sure he's not a homicidal maniac, okay?"
    "He's not. He was framed."
    "Oh no, you don't," he said, standing up. "You're not getting me involved in this. No way." Dave was a cop, and he'd helped me solve a murder once—and almost lost his job and pension because of it.