Murder Bites the Bullet: A Gertie Johnson Murder Mystery by Deb Baker Page A

between you and me,” I said.
    He glanced at Kitty.
    “And Kitty,” I added.
    “You’re good people,” he acknowledged. “And Kitty here is quite the looker.”
    Which was Walter’s way of saying he thought Kitty was a hot babe. She gave him a wide smile, then took a sip of her coffee, locking eyes with him. That woman never ceases to amaze me.
    “So who are you buying your moonshine from?” I waited for him to drop a name.
    “Gus Aho,” Walter said.
    Gus Aho sure was getting around. He’d hired me to prove Chet was his dad’s killer, he’d been at the scene of Frank’s murder, and now he was the real moonshiner. For a lazy guy, and one with a rock solid alibi, he sure was making fast tracks.
    My intuition told me he knew something. It was time to put the screws to him. Make him sing like a bird.
    *
     
    From an interrogator’s point of view, the younger the person, the easier they are to pump for information. Mainly, because they haven’t figured out how devious other people can be. And they don’t look for hidden motives in our questions. Plus, if they’re trying to hide something, they always think they‘re smarter than just about anybody and can outwit us. They can’t.
    I found Gus down at Herb’s Bar, the only local waterhole in Stonely. Herb’s is owned by my nephews, Red and Ed. They don’t mind if Fred comes in. He went off in search of pizza crumbs.
    Just my luck, Gus had had one too many.
    “You got Chet Hanson nailed yet?;
    “Almost.” I perched on a stool next to him, then greeted Red and ordered a pop.
    “That’s good to hear.”
    “I think you can help pound a few nails in his coffin, so I have a few questions.”
    “Shoot,” Gus said, stopping to take a long swig from his beer.
    I didn’t want to start out by asking why he was on the scene when Frank was killed, which might potentially alienate him, so I started small.
    “Grandma and her friend Pearl are looking for some moonshine. Old time’s sake. You know how old people get?”
    “So?”
    “So, I heard you’re the man?”
    “I can help you with that,” Gus said. “How much does she want?”
    “Just a little.”
    “I have some in my truck.”
    That pretty much told me that Walter’s information was right on. Not that I really doubted him. Walter wouldn’t be wrong about a source of powerful alcohol.
    “Good,” I said. “Grandma will like that. Next, I’m tracking down a few loose ends regarding Chet Hanson’s whereabouts. He said he was at the IGA when your dad died.”
    “That lying…”
    “So he wasn’t? You know that for a fact?”
    “For a fact.” Gus tried to thump his chest with his thumb, but missed and hit his arm. “I was at the IGA. He wasn’t anywhere near there.”
    “You can prove you were there?” Marcy had already confirmed that fact, but I wanted to keep him talking.
    “You know how it is when you go to the IGA,” he said “I ran into lots of friends. And I had business to take care of, so I hung around longer than usual. Ask anybody. That murdering Hanson never came around.”
    “Give this thirsty man another beer,” I called out to Ed. “It’s on me.” Then to Gus, “What kind of business?”
    “My ma asked me to put in for that sweepstakes…oh, crap, I wasn’t supposed to tell anybody.” Gus leaned back on the stool, looking sheepish.
    An investigator has to think fast. I knew Gus had been at the store. But if my memory served me, he hadn’t even filled out an entry for himself, let alone anybody else in his family. “Investigators,” I lied, “are bound by a strict ethics code. Just like attorneys. I can’t repeat anything you tell me.”
    Gus looked relieved. “Me and my big mouth.”
    “Tell me the rest. It might help against Chet.”
    “I don’t see how. Ma just asked me to sneak in a few sweepstakes entries on the QT.”
    “For her?”
    “And a friend.”
    Since I hadn’t seen an entry for Diane Aho, something must have gone wrong. “I had access to