Stuck on Murder Read Online Free Page B

back to him?” he asked.
    “Dim Dipley?” she repeated.
    “My little pet name for the mayor,” he said.
    Brenna laughed and he grinned in return.
    “He said he would check up on my progress tomorrow. He’s a bit tenacious,” she said.
    “A bit.” Nate was staring out the back window toward the woods beyond. She followed his gaze but could see nothing in the darkness.
    “Well, you can tell Dim for me that I will spearhead a campaign,” he said. “In fact, he can be sure to see a piece about it in the Courier the day after tomorrow.”
    “You will?” Brenna asked. She was shocked. She had been so sure he would be furious with the mayor.
    “Yep,” he said. He scraped his fork against his plate to get the last of the melted chocolate, and he looked at her with a mischievous sparkle in his eye. “Seconds?”
    He looked entirely too happy, and she knew it wasn’t just a chocolate buzz from her casserole. No, she had the distinct feeling that he was up to something, but given his private nature, she was hesitant to ask. She’d just have to wait and see what this man of mystery had up his sleeve.
     
     
    She didn’t have long to wait. Mayor Ripley found her at Vintage Papers the next day, and she told him exactly what Nate had said. He clapped his hands, looking delighted, and credited her with Nate’s cooperation.
    Brenna was left feeling ill at ease. She had no doubt that it was due to the calculating gleam in Nate’s eyes when he had said good night to her. She wondered if she should warn the mayor, but she was still a little peeved with him for putting her in the middle of this.
    It was not a tremendous surprise to Brenna when, a few days later, the Morse Point Courier ran the story of Nate’s campaign to save Morse Point Lake from the evil clutches of Mayor Dim Dipley. And yes, that was how they printed his name.
    The clincher, however, was the line drawing penned by Nate that accompanied the article, in which Mayor Ripley was depicted, with his comb-over and suspenders, as a large, sweaty giant handing over the town of Morse Point to a black-cloaked grim reaper with the words land developer on its scythe in exchange for a bucket overflowing with cash.
    “Oh, my,” Tenley breathed as she scanned the newspaper Brenna had slapped down in front of her moments before.
    Tenley was sitting at the bar in the Fife and Drum, Morse Point’s oldest restaurant, which looked out over the town green. It was their Friday night ritual to close the shop early and treat themselves to a glass of wine in the bar and a couple of chicken Caesar salads in the restaurant.
    Tenley had been talking with Matt Collins, the bartender, when Brenna arrived with the paper. As Tenley finished reading and turned to stare at her, Matt pulled the paper close and gave a low whistle when he took in the picture of the mayor.
    “Heads are going to roll,” he said. He glanced up at them and then squinted over their shoulders through the picture window. “Right about now, by the look of things.”
    Tenley and Brenna turned to look out the window as well. Brenna gasped. Standing on the steps of the town hall, which was adjacent to the restaurant, were Nate Williams and Mayor Ripley. Judging by their irate expressions and wild arm gestures, they were not exchanging pleasantries about the weather.
    Brenna rushed through the front door. She couldn’t help feeling as if this was her fault. She should never have told Nate what the mayor wanted. She should have just put Ripley off until he gave up the whole idea. Realistically, he would have approached Nate himself and they’d be in exactly this same spot, but at least she would not feel like part of it was her fault.
    “Look, Dim Dipley,” Nate was yelling. “I am not now nor am I ever going to sell off my property so that you can line your fat pockets with more money.”
    “That’s slander!” Mayor Ripley shouted back, waving a chubby finger at Nate. “I could sue you for