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Ham was on the back porch, doing something to his fishing tackle while Ginny was busy in the kitchen.
“Hey, Ham,” she said, pulling up a chair until she was knee to knee with him.
“Hey, Sugar.”
“Ham, did you shoot Jim Bruno?”
Ham stopped fiddling with the tackle and looked straight at her. “Not yet,” he said.
“I guess you haven’t heard yet.”
“I haven’t read the paper this morning. Did somebody cheat me out of killing him?”
“Yeah. Maybe him.”
“Figures,” Ham said. “The man was a coward, through and through.”
“Yes, he was.”
“Details, please?”
Holly told him everything.
“How come you think he didn’t do it to himself?”
“I don’t know yet. It hasn’t gelled.”
“You think it’s going to gel?”
“Eventually.”
“Good luck. You want to stay for Sunday dinner? Ginny has a roast in the oven.”
“Thanks, but I’ve got something cooking myself.”
48
Holly got back to the house and found Josh, wearing only an apron, in the kitchen.
“Did you get your question asked?”
“Yes, thank you.” She kissed him and pinched him on the ass.
“Gee, thanks. Get the answer you wanted?”
“Yep.”
“Happy now?”
“Nope.”
“Will eggs Benedict help?”
“Couldn’t hurt.”
“Then pull up a stool, have some orange juice and tell me your problem.”
Holly sat down and sipped her juice. “I don’t think Bruno was a suicide, but I’m not sure why I think that.”
