Murder Grins and Bears It by Deb Baker

and began
surveying the site.
    The Detroit boys sat like ants on a log and
watched. Cora Mae noticed them immediately. She patted her hair and
re-tucked her blouse. Then she made more detailed clothing
adjustments, slowing down for their benefit, opening a button on
her blouse, and fanning herself like she was overheating.
    “ Oh, for God’s sake,” I
snorted. “Give it a rest.”
    They must have heard us coming a long way
off, which is the disadvantage of the ATV mode of travel. You
aren’t going to be sneaking up on anybody. I suppose I looked
pretty ridiculous driving up in blazing orange and freshly mended
suspender pants riding on a camo ATV, but they didn’t notice my
attire since they were all staring at Cora Mae, the sandwiches
clutched in their paws forgotten.
    I have to give it to Cora Mae. She can turn
a man’s head no matter his age. He can be twenty years older or
twenty years younger than she is. She’s definitely got sex
appeal.
    These three men were in their early fifties,
give or take a few years, and they looked alike. Large round faces
and large facial features with big honking noses and wide-set
eyes.
    “ Hey, boys,” Cora Mae
called, strolling over, apparently in her element. “Let’s introduce
ourselves.”
    The boys turned out to be brothers – Marlin
Smith, Remy Smith, and BB Smith – and none too bright. Detroit
schools must not turn out too many rocket scientists. But I had to
admire the creativity of their parents. While I’d named Blaze,
Heather, and Star after horses, the Detroit boys were named after
firearms.
    “ It smells like someone
died,” I said, after making sure the odor wasn’t floating over from
the boys. “What a stench.”
    They seemed to notice me for the first time.
Marlin pointed at a five-gallon bucket hanging from a large tree
branch. “Walter goes smelting in the spring, throws a bunch of them
in a bucket, seals it, and lets it sit all summer in the garage.
Then we string it up and I shoot a hole in it with my twenty-two so
it dribbles out onto the ground. Have to shoot a hole a little
lower every day to keep it dripping. Works like a charm.”
    I scrunched my nose. “See any action
yet?”
    “ Not yet, but somebody has.
Been hearing shots on and off all morning.”
    BB grinned at Cora Mae. “How about some
lunch?”
    Cora Mae and I settled in with turkey
sandwiches and cold Budweiser beers. We traded dumb bear stories
for a while before I got to the point.
    “ A warden was killed out
this way yesterday,” I said.
    “ Good riddance to bad
rubbish,” Marlin said with a nasty little smirk. His brothers
laughed.
    “ You know the
guy?”
    Remy chimed in, through a mouth packed with
bread. “Don’t need to, they’re all alike. DNR agents used to be
hunters, meaning once upon a time they thought like hunters, like
us. Now they’re all a bunch of tree huggers with fancy
degrees.”
    I nodded. “Yup. The DNR’s been infiltrated
by those Sierra guys.”
    “ And don’t ask the DNR
anything, or right away they want to arrest you.” BB Smith
added.
    I glanced at him sharply. “Someone want to
arrest you?”
    BB looked startled. “Uh, no.”
    “ My grandson’s lost out
here,” I said, taking a bite of my turkey sandwich and noticing
Marlin frown at BB. “You guys see at kid about
nineteen?”
    “ Some guy walked through
here coupla hours ago,” Marlin said. “Just said howdy and moved on
through, heading that way.” Marlin pointed down the path in the
opposite direction from Walter’s place.
    I was excited. “Was he big and wearing
orange?”
    “ Yep,” Marlin said, taking
a swig of beer. “That was him all right.”
    I jumped up and pried Cora Mae away from an
eyeball stare she had going with BB Smith. “Come on, Cora Mae, I
know that was him.”
    “ Half the men around here
are wearing orange. It could be anybody.” Cora Mae brushed herself
off, slowly running her hands over the front of her blouse. BB
actually drooled.
    “ Gotta