““I don’t know what kind of stunt you’re trying to pull this time, but I won’t fall for it.” She whirled around and stomped off toward her house. “Don’t go in there!” Ida Belle yelled. “For once, will you trust me?” Celia glanced back at Ida Belle with a hold-your-breath-and-wait look but never slowed her pace. “Stubborn, foolish bitch,” Ida Belle said. “Should I stop her?” I asked. “No. Let her go in and take a look. Serves her right. Not like she’s going to disturb the crime scene. Her print...s are all over the house anyway.” “Who’s dead?” Gertie asked. “Max,” Ida Belle said. Gertie’s eyes widened and Marie gasped as the blood rushed from her face. “You’re sure it was murder?” Gertie asked. I nodded. “Shotgun blasts to the chest at close range. Probably two. Maybe more. He fell forward so it’s hard to tell without turning him over.” Gertie understood exactly what I described and her face wrinkled up for a moment. Marie simply sank onto the lawn, her hands clutched together. A loud shriek rang from inside the house and a couple seconds later, Celia came running out the front door, tripped on the doormat, and face-planted on her porch.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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