Band Room Bash Read Online Free

last straw. There have been far too many disturbances today. I’m tired of listening to people argue. And now we have you police officers.”
    “We’re deputies,” he murmured, eyes sharp with interest. “You say someone argued in the library?”
    She sniffed. “People should know better. We need peace and quiet.”
    I expected her to pound the countertop for emphasis.
    “Who was it?” The big man balanced on his toes, reminding me of the first time I met him—right after I found Jim Bob Jenkin’s body.
    She frowned. “What people do in a library is protected. I don’t have to tell you.”
    “Uh-huh.” The corporal glanced at me then pulled out a notepad. “What’s your name?”
    She wouldn’t give him her name and adamantly refused to leave the library. It wasn’t until he threatened her with arrest that she finally told him who she was. After that, she turned her back to him and grabbed her square, black pocketbook from her office. “I won’t be intimidated.” She tilted her chin as she walked out from behind the desk in a huff.
    “Oh yeah, I got your number,” Corporal Fletcher murmured just loud enough for me to hear. “Liberty for all, and no cops.” He winked at me, cleared his throat, and followed her to the door. “I’m sorry. You can take up your complaints with my boss, Sergeant Eric Scott. I’m sure he’d love to discuss proper police procedure with you.”
    The irony in his voice made me smile, especially since I knew Detective Scott and his method of dealing with annoying people.
    She didn’t catch on. “I will speak to him. This is highly inappropriate. The unmitigated gall. . .” She snatched at the handle and yanked open the door. “And to think that a crime has occurred here, on school property. That’s because we open our doors to you people. I just don’t know. . . .”
    The door closed, effectively shutting her up.
    “Fruitcake,” Corporal Fletcher mumbled. “Probably reads too many of those commie books by weirdo political professor types. Sergeant’ll slice her to bits.”
    “Yeah. He’s good at slicing. I’ve experienced a bit of that myself.” I felt keyed up and crabby. Probably a result of finding Georgia, hunger and pregnancy hormones, topped off by bad library memories.
    The librarian clone who had just walked out was like the one who had banished me from the hallowed book cloister when I was in school. That was because I hit a classmate with a sacred National Geographic and inadvertently ripped the cover. When strange things started happening to the librarian, like the day she discovered a formaldehyde-preserved frog in place of the meat in her sandwich, I was briefly expelled. I never discovered who turned me in, but that was the first and last time my daddy ever grounded me. Usually my mother handled the discipline.
    “Say, Mrs. C., don’t you worry about Sarge.” Corporal Fletcher must have seen the scowl on my face, but he misinterpreted it. “You’ll be fine.”
    I flexed my shoulders and stared out the window. I dreaded talking to the sergeant, especially since Tommy and I had moved the body. “Detective Scott isn’t acting real nice today.”
    “Umm. . .yeah, well, probably,” the corporal said behind me. “To be expected.”
    I faced him. “Why?”
    From the way he was looking at the ceiling, I could tell he was thinking about how to answer me. That made me suspicious.
    “Well, a possible crime in a school is bad news,” he said. “Real political. We got a couple of new county commissioners who are being a real pain right now. That and the citizen advisory board. Now this.” He finally met my eyes.
    “That’s no excuse for grumpiness.” Even as I said it, I realized it was the proverbial pot calling the kettle black. I wasn’t little Miss Sunshine today myself.
    Corporal Fletcher glanced over his shoulder then sidled up closer to me. “You gotta give people leeway, Mrs. C. Things happen. I’m sure you’re aware of that. You