Read Murder Bites the Bullet: A Gertie Johnson Murder Mystery for Free Online Page A

figure out its range so you know how close you should stand when the time comes, which has me a little concerned. Can you tell me one more time why you need this thing?”
    That was his second question. I hadn’t told him why in the first place, but I did now. “Just another tool of the trade. I’ll probably never need it.”
    I couldn’t help noticing the big cheesy grin on his face as I loaded up the square beanbag bullets and beaded in on the empty coffee can he’d placed on top of the picket fence.
    From about twelve feet away, it wasn’t too accurate, curving like a bowling ball heading for the gutter. I missed by a long shot.
    “Move up,” Kitty advised. “The closer, the better.”
    So I did.
    This time the beanbag bullet hit a little below the can, taking out that whole section of fence.
    “Okay, then,” George said calmly. “I have a suggestion in case you ever consider using this gun on a real human being.”
    “What’s that?” I asked, pretty amazed at the power of the weapon in my hand.
    “Don’t fire it at point blank range, or you’ll kill the guy.”
    “Hit the dog next,” Grandma hollered.
    *
    After that bit of excitement, my two partners took off to keep an eye on Chet Hanson. Cora Mae didn’t complain at all when I gave her that assignment. The beauty of this plan was that Cora Mae had already successfully infiltrated the suspect’s perimeter. At first, I hadn’t been so appreciative, but looking back, it was a smart move on her part.
    “We’ll feel around,” Cora Mae said, all rosy and twinkly. “See what we discover.”
    Kitty snorted again.
    “What’s the matter with you?” Cora Mae asked her. “Why do you keep snorting every time I open my mouth?”
    “No reason. Let’s go,” Kitty said. A few minutes later they peeled out.
    Grandma stomped back to the house, muttering under her breath about dangerous fruitcakes with weapons of mass destruction.
    I gave George a big kiss, then went in and changed from a scarf into the blonde ponytail wig Cora Mae brought over for me. I felt like Sandra Dee. The wig would throw off Frank Hanson in case he’d gotten a good look at me last night.
    One thing going for me besides the wig was that I doubted Frank knew who I was. We didn’t travel in the same circles. His type showed up at the bars late and hung around until closing. My crowd liked to see the sunrise, so they did their drinking early, like in the late afternoon.
    My canine pal and I headed out.
    Frank Hanson was home. And his car’s tires really were flat as pancakes. I wish Kitty had talked to me before acting on impulse. Sure, we had him stuck at home where we didn’t have to worry about tracking him down, but if he had wheels he might lead us right to some evidence that would implicate him or Chet.
    “I hear you were at Harry’s place yesterday when he was murdered,” I said after he answered the door.
    “Why do you care?”
    I flashed my deputy sheriff badge. “I’m newly deputized. I have credentials. Blaze needs all the help he can get.” Which was completely true. My son isn’t exactly Columbo.
    Frank didn’t invite me in. Instead, he came out and closed the door behind him, which made me suspicious that he had something to hide. “I already told my end of it,” he said, none too friendly.
    “You’ll have to tell it one more time. Where were you when it happened?”
    “Shooting at the range. At least I think that’s where I was. That’s my best guess, considering nobody said exactly when it happened. Shots were going off left and right. The one that hit him could have come before I even got there.”
    “Your family had it in for him.”
    “Who says?”
    “Your cousin Chet Hanson says, that’s who.”
    Frank wasn’t giving up anything he didn’t have to. “Whatever.”
    “Where was Chet while all this was going on?”
    “You’ll have to ask him. I’m not his keeper.”
    “Anything else you want to tell me?”
    “Last night somebody attacked