A Grid For Murder

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Book: Read A Grid For Murder for Free Online
Authors: Casey Mayes
suspected the same thing myself when I’d walked in there, and having my worst fears realized didn’t make matters any better. “What am I going to do, Barbara?”
    She seemed surprised by the way I asked her for advice, and she didn’t know quite how to react at first. “I wish I could tell you,” she said after a moment’s thought, “but at the moment, I don’t have a clue what you can do, and that’s the honest truth.”
    “Thanks for the coffee, anyway,” I said as I walked out of the shop. Before I could get three steps beyond the coffeehouse door, I heard someone calling my name.
    It was Barbara.
    “You forgot your change,” she said loudly.
    “I did not.”
    As she approached, Barbara whispered, “Would you hush and listen to me? Do you know where the back entrance to my shop is?”
    “No, but I could probably find it,” I said. “Why do you ask?”
    “Meet me back there in five minutes. We need to talk.”
    I shrugged, not sure I liked being shuffled off to the back room. “Why can’t we speak in front of everyone else?”
    Barbara looked me straight in the eye as she said, “It’s simple. If it turns out that you did kill Joanne, not everyone in this town is going to want to give you a medal, though I admit you could probably raise enough money from the folks who did want her dead to buy yourself a new automobile. Either way, though, they’re all customers of mine, and I can’t afford to alienate any of them. Do we understand each other?”
    “I’ve got it,” I said. “See you soon.” Much louder, I added, “Thanks for my change,” though if anyone had been watching us, they would have to be a stone fool not to realize that we’d just been conspiring about something.
    I did as Barbara asked, and found the rear entrance easily enough. I knocked once, waited, and then knocked again.
    There was no reply.
    Had she just been taunting me with her offer to help? What would she gain by making me look like a fool? I glanced around, but no one was watching me, so at least I wasn’t performing for an audience.
    Maybe she hadn’t heard me. I rapped on the door again, this time rattling it in its frame.
    “What are you trying to do, wake the dead?” Barbara asked as she opened the door.
    “I knocked a few times when I first got here, but I didn’t think you could hear me.”
    “I heard you just fine,” she said, “but Ramona Ridge is working here today, and that woman couldn’t keep a secret if it would save her life. Go back in my office, and I’ll be right there. I need to send her on some kind of fool’s errand so we can have some privacy.”
    I did as I was asked and made my way deeper into the back of the shop. Calling the space I found an office was a gross misrepresentation of the truth. I wasn’t even sure it had enough square footage to qualify it as a nook, but somehow Barbara had managed to wedge a small desk and two chairs into the space, though there wasn’t a great deal of room left for pesky things like actually being able to use any of the area.
    “I know it’s tight,” she said before I could comment on it, “but I had to make do with what I had. Every square inch I use back here is lost for customers, and that’s where I make my money.” She managed to wedge herself behind her desk and asked, “What exactly do you think I can do to help you?”
    “I figure you know more about what’s happening in Parson’s Valley than anyone else, and right now, I’m in desperate need of information.”
    “I’m not sure I agree with that, but I’ll help if I can.” She looked happy that I’d come to her, and I was going to do my best to foster that joy.
    “First off, who would want to see Joanne Clayton dead?”
    Barbara laughed, and then caught herself. “I shouldn’tchuckle about it, but it’s hard not to, isn’t it? The woman had her claws into a dozen people, any of whom might want to wish her ill.” She tapped a pencil on her desktop, and then added, “I

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