Vintage Whispers (A Cozy Retirement Mystery Book 1) by Riley Blake Page B

Bridge. And you can guess what was tied to his legs and holding him underwater.”
    “Cinderblocks.”
    “And they were recognizable if you know what I mean.”
    “Zigzags and polka dots all over them, I take it.”
    “Yes.”
    “Why do I feel like this is one of those ‘good news and bad news’ moments?”
    “I wouldn’t go that far,” Opal said. “But I do have another headliner.”
    “Please tell me it doesn’t have anything to do with death.”
    “Wish I could but it’s all connected. Cops are searching the store. We’re here now. Can you come on down?”
    “I’m on my way.”
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Thirteen
     
    “What took you so long?” Pearl grabbed Mary Louise’s arm and steered her to the arts and crafts corner near the rear exit.
    “Long story. It involves a radiator and a car now abandoned about fifty yards down the road.”
    “Do I need to call Crane?” Opal appeared at Pearl’s side.
    “Already done. He didn’t have an open bay until I mentioned your name.” She shot her a weak smile, trying to ignore the cops and detectives wandering around the store. “Guess it pays to know people in high places.”
    “Apparently not,” Pearl said, shooting Sheriff Littleton a dirty look. “He knew this was coming and didn’t tell us.”
    “Pearl, can I see you for a second?”
    “Yes.” She turned and walked outside. Mary Louise and Opal followed her. “There’s his second.”
    “Do I want to know?” Mary Louise asked.
    “Trouble in Paradise,” Opal teased.
    Before she could give details, Sheriff Littleton appeared. “Ladies, they’ve found something. You’re needed inside, please.”
    Pearl marched right by him. Opal shrugged and trailed her. Mary Louise said, “She thought you were her friend.”
    “I am,” he whispered. “You’ll see why we’re here and you’ll wonder why I didn’t do this before now.”
    Minutes later they sat in the backroom staring at a rusty iron skillet. A detective held it out in front of him, shining an ultraviolet light. At first glance, the ironware appeared to be a rust-coated surface. Taking the end of his flashlight, the detective indicated the bloody pattern’s shape before he nodded at Sheriff Littleton and bagged what must’ve been their first real piece of evidence.
    “Where did you buy the skillet?” Littleton asked.
    Mary Louise turned to Pearl who turned to Opal. They shook their heads in unison.
    “Ladies, come on now. Help me out here. One, if not all three of you, know where you purchased this skillet.” Sheriff Littleton grunted as he waited. “Give me something.” 
    “That’s just it, we don’t know,” Opal said.
    “Then why is it in your shop?”
    “It’s hard to say,” Mary Louise said. “We stopped carrying iron products when the big chains began stocking a larger assortment. We couldn’t compete.”
    “So you’re saying this iron skillet what…walked in here?”
    “Oh no, it would’ve had some help,” Pearl said. “We don’t really believe in all that who-do magic stuff.”
    “Pearl.” Sheriff Littleton held up his hand. “Why don’t we let Mary Louise and Opal answer the questions?”
    “That’s just fine, but they’ll give you the same answers I would.”
    “That’s debatable,” Opal grumbled, catching a glare from Pearl.
    “How did the skillet get here?”
    “Is it a murder weapon?” Pearl asked. 
    “Answer the question.”
    “You told me to let them answer and apparently they don’t know anything more than I do.”
    Was this a lover’s quarrel? She shot Opal a sideways glance and shrugged. Apparently she was thinking along the same lines.
    “What do you know about the skillet in question?” An edge of professionalism inched its way into his hardened tone.
    “It’s a large one, but it’s not one