Dying for a Dude (Laurel McKay Mysteries Book 4) Read Online Free

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    “So what does this mean?” Tina asked.
    I had the answer to that question. It meant that the only person getting any action from my detective tonight was an old sack of bones.

 
     
     
CHAPTER FOUR
     
     
    Tom called in to headquarters and requested some crime scene techs. Although the corpse had obviously been dead a decade or two, or fifteen, the detective still needed to follow official protocol. Bradford seemed torn between helping his injured wife and assisting at the crime scene. I imagined it must be difficult to stop detecting after spending forty years on the force.
    Since whoever killed the victim was long gone, my family didn’t need to remain at the site. Bradford and I supported Mother as she hobbled back to Gran’s house. Oddly enough, my grandmother seemed more excited than disturbed by the commotion.
    She rubbed her liver-spotted hands together. “This is like watching CSI only better. I wonder if I should call the Red Hats to come over.”
    “This is no cause for celebration,” Mother admonished Gran. “We need to get your property sold while the market is hot. I don’t think a dead body will be considered a property improvement.”
    “Well, that dead body sure improved my disposition.” Gran chortled to herself. She scurried around her kitchen, making coffee and setting out homemade cookies for the men.
    I swiped one of her chocolate and toffee chip cookies off the etched glass tray. Yum. When I bent over to grab another cookie, my corset protested loudly. I couldn’t wait to change out of this ridiculous costume and into a pair of shorts and a tee shirt.
    “Are you ready to go home?” Mother asked me, her face pale and drawn. I could see she was in pain even though she would be the last person to admit weakness.
    “Sure. Is it safe to leave Gran alone with all of these forensic people wandering around?”
    “The better question,” Bradford chimed in, “is whether the crime techs will be safe with your grandmother and her friends.”
    Two members of Gran’s Red Hat group had already arrived, dressed to kill with red boas wound around their necks and hats the size of turkey platters perched on their heads. The women directed the crime scene personnel where to go. The technicians didn’t seem to mind their elderly groupies since the women plied them with cookies.
    Mother limped over to Gran’s side. “Please keep out of their way, Ma. We need to get this issue resolved as soon as possible so you can move to Golden Hills Manor.”
    “There’s no rush to lock me up at the Manor,” Gran muttered, “I’m still in my prime, you know.”
    Tom entered the kitchen through the back door. He shoved his hand through the hair tickling his shirt collar. “You might as well go home,” he said to me. “This could turn into an all-nighter. There are strict rules when exhuming a body this old.”
    “Is it okay for Gran to be here?” I asked as I reached up and flicked some dust off his formerly white polo shirt.
    He nodded. “She’ll be fine. Her friends can keep her company.”
    “Will you still be able to attend the Cornbread and Cowpokes event with me tomorrow night?”
    His chocolate-brown eyes lit up as he glanced down. “Will you be wearing that outfit?”
    “Nope. I have to save it for the Wagon Train Parade.”
    “Too bad,” he said with a rueful smile. “I’ve always been partial to black lace and red satin.”
    My toes and every other nerve ending began to tingle as his gaze roved up and down my costumed body.
    Ever the businessperson, Mother joined us and interrupted my fantasizing. “Tom, do you think I can hold the open house tomorrow?”
    He shook his head. “You’d better cancel it. You’re more likely to have crime show addicts and historians than bona fide purchasers.” Tom took the baggie with the bullet out of his pocket and showed it to his former partner. “Do you know anyone who’s a specialist in old guns and ammunition?”
    It didn’t