Page 96 of Backwater Justice

“Ah. Law enforcement. It would appear the local deputy might have an issue following up, so what do we do about him?”

All eyes went to Kathryn. “No, not Pearl.” Pearl was a thorn in Kathryn’s side. She was also the group’s travel concierge, but not in the typical way. Once the Sisterhood captured the culprits they identified, Pearl would dispose of them. No one was ever murdered, but given the choice, the perpetrators might choose death over the sentences handed down by the Sisters. Myra and Annie were constantly forcing Kathryn to deal with Pearl, in the hope they could mend their differences.

“We will also have to figure out what to do with Bart and Dickie.”

“And Oliver,” Annie said.

“And Patricia. We believe she was the one who spiked Milton’s drink,” Myra stated.

“Patricia? Why?” Isabelle asked.

“The foxglove,” Fergus offered. “It’s a woman’s weapon of choice.”

“Okay, but why would she want to kill Milton?” Isabelle persisted.

“That’s a question she will have to answer,” Fergus responded.

“And how do we get her to do that?” Isabelle asked.

“I have an idea. It’s an old trope from a lot of British mysteries,” Charles offered.

“Continue, please,” Myra urged.

“You get all the suspects in the room, and you simply lay out the facts,” Charles replied.

“I think we have to get all the evidence collected first, don’t you?” Myra asked.

“Yes, which means the marshal has to execute the search warrant, which means we have to get Milton’s permission,” Charles said.

“We can’t call Milton at this hour.” Myra checked the time.

“I don’t think we can wait, love. Anything could happen, especially if someone thinks we’re on to them.”

Myra sighed. “I suppose you’re right.” She picked up her phone and called Milton. Patricia answered.

“Hello, Patricia, I am so sorry to disturb you, but it’s important I speak with Milton.”

“What is this about?” Patricia asked stiffly.

“Something he asked me to research.”

“Can’t this wait until morning?” Patricia’s voice was terse.

“No, I’m afraid not,” Myra pushed.

“Just a moment.”

Myra could tell Patricia was not happy about this intrusion. About a minute later, Milton got on the phone. “Myra? Everything alright?”

“No, Milton. Some of your concerns have been confirmed.”

“Oh? How so?”

“We need you to give permission to search three of the inns. Permission to a U.S. Marshal.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Milton was befuddled.

“I can have him come to your house, and you can sign a letter of permission.” She looked at Fergus. He nodded.