"12 - Murder@Maggody(dot)com" - читать интересную книгу автора (12 - Murder@Maggody(dot)com)

"Hush your mouth, Idalupino," said Mrs. Jim Bob. "Just how much would these adult classes cost, Lottie?"

"Not a penny, since I included Justin's overtime in the budget. The students will put together this web site as a class project."

"I say we ought to do it," said Estelle, no doubt imagining dozens of cars parked in front of her house and credit cards in every hand. She caught my smirk and snorted. "For the sake of the youngsters, that is. All the rest of it is nothing more than gravy on the biscuit, though there ain't one thing wrong with putting Maggody on the map. Let's have a vote."

Jim Bob sucked on his lip for a moment. "The decision is up to the school board. We'll discuss it among ourselves. This meeting's adjourned."

"I don't see why we can't discuss it here and now," said Roy. "The only time we're supposed to have private sessions is when it's a personnel matter and somebody's feelings might get hurt, like Garbanzo Buchanon's when we heard he was prying open lockers to steal peanut-butter sandwiches out of lunch boxes while he was supposed to be sweeping-"

"I said the meeting's adjourned, Roy. That means it's over. The rest of you might as well leave, cause nothing more's gonna happen tonight."

Some of the citizens may not have understood the word "adjourned," but everybody got the message and began to shuffle. Ruby Bee, Estelle, and I had reached the door when Lottie rushed over to us.

"I want to thank you all for your support," she said. "I don't know why Jim Bob's in such a snit over the idea. I had to submit a budget as part of the proposal, and I don't think the bureaucrats at the agency would take it kindly if the money went for a van for the basketball team."

"How'd you ever put together this budget?" asked Estelle. "I wouldn't have the foggiest idea where to start."

Lottie smiled modestly. "My cousin Lulu Ferncliff, who's a librarian over in Paragould, took a computer class at Farber College last summer. Justin was the teacher, and he told them how they could apply for grants for their schools. She passed the information on to me, and I tracked him down. He didn't charge so much as a dime to help me wade through the paperwork. He even showed me what all there is on the Internet and how the students can use it to enrich their homework. Why, we can all be gazing at the ceiling of the Vatican. It's going to be wonderful!"

My eyebrows wanted to rise to the ceiling of the cafeteria, but I managed to keep them under control. "Is Justin going to live here in Maggody?" The topic of discussion moved into our circle. "It'll be interesting," he said, twinkling at me in an effort that fell flatter than any of Brother Verber's homilies. "I've leased a trailer at the Pot O' Gold. My wife is hoping to make some kind of contact in the community. Her degree's in sociology."

"She's going to analyze the denizens of the trailer park?" I said. "I'm afraid she'll find a rather sorry group of people. Most of them are scraping by, saving their money, and hoping to move along. There's not much drama in the Pot O' Gold."

Estelle clutched my arm. "You bet your booties there is! You heard about that fellow that calls himself Lazarus? Just last week he rented the double-wide across from Eula Lemoy. She said hello to him in a right friendly fashion and he just stared back at her like she had a hunk of spinach caught in her teeth. He drives a big ol' motorcycle and-"

"An odd name," I said, "but none of our business, or Eula's, for that matter."

"What's more," Estelle went on in a voice well suited to a death scene in a Wagnerian opera, "I encountered him in the supermarket only yesterday. His hair hangs to his shoulders, and might as well be slicked down with lard. I was real surprised not to see a swarm of flies around him. He reminded me of one of those fellows you see on those shows about escaped criminals. As sure as I'm standing here, he's up to no good."

I took a breath. "So I should go out and shoot him because you don't like his hair? If that was my criterion, the population of Maggody would plummet."

"Do you and your wife have any children?" Ruby Bee asked Justin, her eyes glittering with interest.

"Not yet," he said. "We've agreed to wait until I finish grad school. I can't see myself writing a dissertation with a screaming baby in the next room. Chapel understands."

She moved in like a famished mosquito. "Her name is Chapel? I disremember ever hearing that name before. Where are her people from?"

I grabbed her elbow and began to drag her out the door. "Your stint as Lois Lane is over, so give this man a break. Should Lottie's proposal be approved, you'll have plenty of time to get the details."

Lottie's eyes welled with tears. "I'll feel like such a dithery old fool if Jim Bob turns it down. The elementary school has a portable classroom that we can use. It needs a good cleaning and some cubicles and chairs, but it'll work out just fine. Mr. Darker, the principal, says we can put it out behind the gym. That way, in the evenings we can park thirty feet away and not have to go traipsing through the school while the floors are being waxed."

"And just where was Mr. Darker tonight?" asked Estelle. "It seems to me he should have been here to add his support."

"He has a touch of stomach flu."

Ruby Bee yanked off my hand. "Or more likely a yellow streak up his backside. Is he scared of Jim Bob?"

"There's no call to go into that." Lottie's lips began to tremble. "It may be that Jim Bob was in his office this afternoon, but Mr. Darker's been having difficulty with his bowels all week. Every time he went into the faculty restroom, the teachers deserted the lounge like fleas on a drowning dog. On Tuesday, Miz Pitman dawdled. She was still feeling so faint after seventh period that I was obliged to supervise pom-pom practice."