Will You Marry Me? (Sam Darling Mystery Book 4) by Jerilyn Dufresne

contentedly. At least I was contented. We passed the site and saw Barclay and Chip engaged in a spirited conversation. It didn't look like a debate, but rather an argument that was soon going to be out of control. I nudged George and pointed at them, and we strolled to them.  
    "You are not in charge," Chip yelled at Barclay. "Quit trying to boss me around."
    "You're not the boss either," Barclay retorted. His already ruddy face was crimson and almost purple.  
    An obvious rage problem, I thought.
    "Hey, guys," George intervened. "Want to wake the dead?" Then he chuckled at his little joke.
    "Yeah, want to wake the dead?" An unknown voice slurred the words. It came from someone in a chicken suit who was trying to cross the road in an apparently-drunken stumble to get to us.
    An immediate thought jolted me--Why did the chicken cross the road? To kill the chicken on the other side. I also thought that chickens weren't supposed to talk.
    I blurted, "The chicken did it."
    "What?" All three guys said the word at the same time.
    "Not this chicken," I said. "Well, maybe this chicken, I don't know. But I'm convinced a chicken did it."
    "How do you know?" asked Barclay. "I mean you're not a cop or anything. So how did you figure this out?"
    "I'm good at puzzles." This lying thing just got easier and easier.
    George cleared his throat, probably to stifle a laugh.
    Then he said, "Guys, neither one of you need to be in charge. All you have to do is sit there, stay awake, and call the sheriff or me if something happens or if you can't keep anyone away from the bones. It's that simple." He looked from face to face. "Got it?"
    "Yes, sir," said Chip, with no sarcasm in his voice.
    "You aren't my boss either," Barclay said.
    George stepped toward Barclay's round body and got in his flustered, skinny face. "You better damn well understand that I am your boss. I'm a police officer on an official investigation and if you want to make trouble I'm sure there's a jail around here somewhere."
    Barclay was speechless.
    Chip quickly said, "There's a two-person lock-up at the sheriff's office. Feel free to use it."
    "Thanks. I will if it's necessary." George turned to Barclay. "Is it going to be necessary?"
    Barclay didn't say anything for a change, but I noticed a very slight shaking of his head. And that was enough for George.
    The human-sized chicken had apparently decided not to cross the road, because he was wandering away down the street, maybe looking for a fellow feathered friend. I saw George glance at the chicken, but he didn't say anything, so I figured he decided there was no need for police intervention.
    George gave Chip and Barclay his cell phone number, and mine as an afterthought. "Good night, gentlemen," he said, as he took my arm and we strolled back toward Marianne's house and a restful night, after the first day of our vacation. However, I've found that a restful night often precedes a lack of the same.

CHAPTER NINE

    "That smell!" I sat up in bed, sniffed and smiled.  
    "I didn't do anything," said George, as he rolled over and petted Clancy. "Did you, Clancy?"
    She emitted her low growl, which communicated a lot.
    "No. Not that." I gave him a playful nudge. "Smell the air."
    He and Clancy did and they both bounced out of bed. I think George's shower was completed in record time, and Clancy danced at our bedroom door impatiently.
    In the meantime I was still smelling the air.  
    "For someone who doesn't eat meat you sure love the smell of bacon."
    "Of course I do. Normally the smell of meat makes me sick, but bacon...." I salivated. "I hate the thought of those poor pigs, but...bacon." I sighed and jumped into my dirty clothes, thinking I'd shower after breakfast.
    We walked downstairs, as quickly as decorum would allow.
    Marianne must have known the smell was an effective alarm clock. She smiled as we walked in, and she piled scrambled eggs on a serving platter.
    "Good morning," she practically sang the words. And right away