A Lonely Way to Die: A Utah O'Brien Mystery Novel (Minnesota Mysteries Series Book 2) by Jonni Good

often, my wife finally had to ask her to stop, because it upset her so much.”

 
     
    NINE
     
     
    Oscar was back with his laptop. He sat next to Amy and booted up the computer. Then he looked at me with his eyebrows raised, waiting for the coveted password. The Kruegers gave up their Internet subscription several months earlier.
    I turned to Angie and gave her a big smile, with lots of teeth. She looked at me suspiciously, then at the laptop. Her eyes narrowed. “Please?” I begged. “Just this once. Besides, it’s getting cut off in a few days, anyway. What can it hurt? And it’s for a good cause.”
    She glared at me for a few more seconds, on principle, and then wrote the password on a napkin and handed it to me. “Next time, they can take their laptop to your place.”
    I smiled my thanks, but groaned inwardly at the thought of more people sitting in my kitchen. I crossed to Oscar and Amy’s table and told them what I needed. “Anything you can find that might make someone mad at Sonje McCrae or her husband,” I said. “It’s a stab in the dark, but there’s always a chance you’ll find something.”
    “I thought it was a suicide,” Amy said. “I’m sure that’s what they said on the news.”
    I shrugged. “Maybe,” I said. “Or maybe not.” I thanked them both for their help, and went back to the counter to put down a few dollars for the coffee.
     
    I thanked Angie and said goodbye to Pete. I walked towards the door, but I stopped when I saw the word ‘museum’ on a piece of paper next to the cash register. There was a whole stack of fliers, and they all looked alike. I picked one up.
    “Museum of Darwin’s Folly Brings God’s Wrath,” it said, in big type across the top. Below it, in smaller type, it said “Help us Get Rid of the Devil’s Work.”
    A grainy photo of my mammoth took up most of the paper below the headlines. Below the photo was a date and time, for next Saturday at ten in the morning. No location was listed for the meeting, which seemed like an important oversight. Maybe they intended to have a protest, with signs and bullhorns, out in front of the museum. It was getting a little too cold for that sort of thing, in my opinion.
    I looked up. Angie shrugged and grimaced. “I was going to throw them out. I didn’t expect you to come in so early.”
    Pete was studiously looking at the TV set above the soft serve ice cream machine. The TV wasn’t turned on.
    “Pete, you knew about this?”
    He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I knew. My daughter brought one over to the house a few days ago. Anybody who’s been in the museum knows it doesn’t have anything to do with evolution. Half the people in town helped you build those sculptures, for cryin’ out loud. I gave you a good deal on the lumber, myself, and my crew installed the foam insulation on that roof. I don’t remember the devil asking me to help out.”
    Angie picked up the pile and threw the papers in the trash bin below the cash register. She held out her hand for the one I was holding, but I kept it.
    “Did the pastor bring this in?”
    “No. It was John Meecham,” she said. “He had a silly grin on his face when he handed them to me. He knew he was being a jerk, and he was getting a real kick out of it.”
    John Meecham was in the same grade as me, way back when we were in school together. He was a jerk back then, too. Some people can’t help it.
    “He never showed any inclination towards religion before,” I said. “What’s going on?”
    Angie shrugged. We both looked at Pete. His neck was turning red and he kept his eyes on his coffee cup while he talked. “Meecham started coming to the church with Laura Rey, after her husband passed. Well, you can guess why. I’ve never known a man who had such a hard time remembering he’s married. My Rita saw him there a couple of times, and remarked on it. It was Laura Rey who got that fool idea about the museum, and Meecham is going along with it. She