Murder by Artifact (Five Star Mystery Series) by Barbara Graham

really a mouse wearing an inflatable sheriff’s costume?” Max loved to tell people his old partner moved to the hills and became a sheriff. “Do they let you carry your own bullet around?”

    Tony didn’t rise to the bait. “Did Luscious Laura decide she would rather be married to a real man instead of a suit?” Tony thought Theo was pretty. Max’s wife was stunningly beautiful and apparently blind to Max’s faults. “I’ll give Laura another week before she runs off with the bag boy at the grocery store.”

    “Hey, I’ve missed you, partner.” Max sounded serious. “Why don’t you bring the family up and we’ll all go to a baseball game and you can soak up some civilization. Your kids can eat something besides fried squirrels and baked road kill.”

    “You help solve my problem and I’ll buy you all the hot dogs you can eat and pass the bill on to the county.” Tony had automatically dialed Max’s number when he finished talking to the Knoxville office. He hadn’t been able to tell if the agency planned to take an active interest or not. “It’s not your area. I already called the Knoxville office. I’m wondering if I’ll soon have every initial in the country running around my county.”

    “Damn, you sound serious. What’s up?” Max became all business when Tony explained about the body and the newspaper clippings. “Man, that’s just weird. What other initials are you talking to?”

    “I’ve a DEA group, although they’re about gone, and the ATF.” Tony heard a rattle like the phone fell into a metal trash can. He moved the receiver away from his ear. “What are you doing now?”

    “Hey, sorry about that.” Max swore under his breath. “I can’t type and hang onto this dinky little phone at the same time and I lost my ear thingy for it somewhere. ATF, huh? Are they up there drinking all the moonshine?”

    “Not exactly.” Tony wouldn’t give out more information than that and Max clearly didn’t expect an answer.
     
    Max did confirm that the FBI was very interested in the apparent resurrection of a cold case.

    “I’d say that you’re about to get lots of visitors in suits.”

    Theo frowned at the photograph in the evening’s
Silersville Gazette
. It covered half of the front page. In the picture, Queen Doreen smiled broadly, her very best political smile, and held one corner of the engagement quilt. Theo thought Doreen looked like a very attractive shark in a size-nothing dress. The caption below it read, “Doreen Cashdollar lends her family heirloom quilts to new museum.”

    The accompanying article detailed all the family tree beginning with Abigail, for whom the engagement quilt was pieced, and her subsequent death, which led to the second quilt acquiring the designation of the murder quilt. Doreen received the quilt from her grandmother Bathsheba Cochran, Abigail’s sister. More rhetoric praised the mayor’s father-in-law. Robert “Sonny” Cochran was well known in horse show circles for his fine Tennessee Walking horses. There was mention of the horse farm where Doreen grew up. Another paragraph spread word of Doreen’s philanthropic deeds. Only at the very end was the new museum mentioned in passing. It was not the publicity they had hoped to get. The lure of quilts on display was greatly diminished by the blatant admiration of Winifred Thornby for Doreen Cochran Cashdollar.

    Theo’s outrage grew. The article sounded more like a public relations piece for the Cashdollar and Cochran families than an explanation about the museum goals. She tapped the newspaper with a finger. “I don’t see where it says anything about Her Majesty being a royal pain in the butt.”

    “It also neglects to mention that Saint Sonny is rumored to have spawned children in at least three states and only produced one with his wife,” said Tony.

    “That’s understandable. Have you met the Queen Mother?” Theo teased. “Imagine the world with more Doreens.”

    Tony