Murder Talks Turkey by Deb Baker Page A

another guy in the mix, and it’s always a disaster.”
“Well,” I said. “It isn’t three anymore.”
“Why’d it have to happen right behind your truck, Ma?”
“That’s a good question, son.”
My truck, my gun. Someone wanted me out of the way.

    Chapter 9

    Word For The Day
    EXTIRPATE (EKS tuhr pay’t) v.
    Remove completely, exterminate.

    Alternate Word
    HIGGLEDY-PIGGLEDY (HIG uhl dee’ PIG uhl dee) adj.
    Disorderly, jumbled, confused.

    SATURDAY MORNING AT THE CRACK of first daylight, I bellied through thick brush getting into position. Tony’s bales of straw loomed ahead in the dark, like sinister wild animals. I wore my handy fishing vest crammed with supplies, including pepper spray, micro recorder, binoculars, and my stun gun. The vest made it even harder to snake along the cold ground.
    Today, since it was the beginning of the weekend, the woods would be crawling with amateur turkey hunters, blasting at anything that moved. And here I was, dressed in camo, slinking through the brush. Why did I always get the worst surveillance times and the most awful situations? The Trouble Busters needed to come up with a more equitable plan for future events.
    And the cold! I should be in bed with the covers pulled up over my head, with Fred snoring away on the floor. The house had been toasty warm when I left. Next time, I’d drop off Cora Mae and she could hang out on the forest floor.
    I waited.
    A while later when I couldn’t feel my frozen feet anymore, Tony tromped in with a shotgun, set out a turkey decoy, and settled behind the straw piles. I heard a shot in the distance and a few turkey calls. Whether they were turkeys or hunters, I didn’t know.
    A roosting flock of turkeys could make a variety of sounds besides gobbles—yelps, clucks, and kee-kees. A lot of hunters don’t know the first thing about their prey, which works in the turkey’s favor.
    Turkeys roost in trees. They like to travel with other turkeys. If the flock is scattered, they will regroup in the same spot within fifteen or thirty minutes.
    This morning I didn’t expect to see any. They might not be the smartest bird around, but they can outmaneuver a human. What does that tell you about our intelligence? Those birds were on vacation in parts unknown.
    The sun rose higher in the sky, warming me up some. Once in a while, a shot went off. A squirrel jumped across the tops of the trees. A small DNR plane soared overhead, looking for illegal activities. I hunkered into the surrounding environment in my leafy garb and stifled a yawn. Thinking it must be afternoon by now, I checked my watch and found it was only nine o’clock. I laid my head on my arm and closed my eyes.
    I must have dozed off, because when I raised my head there were voices coming from behind the straw pile. Tony wasn’t talking to himself. He had company.
    “Quiet down,” Tony said, harshly. “Sound travels in the woods. Did anyone see you coming in?”
    I heard mumbling after that, but couldn’t make out the words. The only thing I was sure of was that the other voice belonged to a woman. At last! Action!
    Their voices hummed across the windless and frosty morning like buzzing mosquitoes, but I couldn’t make out any more of their words. I’d have to get closer. I dug my elbows into the forest floor and scooted forward, the micro recorder in my gloved fist. The woman’s voice sounded angry, rising like flames.
“I don’t believe you,” she said.
“I’ll take care of it. We’ll be together soon.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
    Tony’s partner in his illicit affair was listening to the same old lies told to gullible woman since the beginning of time. You’d think women would get a clue after generations of toilet paper promises.
    Anger turned to soothing coos, soft giggling, and other sounds. I couldn’t believe I was stuck in the woods in this position. I had some time to kill while they hanky-pankied, and I had a really full bladder. I scooted