A Killing Fair Read Online Free Page A

might not open the door for a week.” He paused for a second and said, “Oh, shit.” His complexion, already pale, turned piecrust pasty white. “I could have been here for days before . . .” His voice trailed off as he thought about the possibility.
    â€œBefore anybody looked in?” I asked.
    â€œYeah. Holy shit, I could have—”
    Barnes cut him off. “No, you couldn’t have. Somebody would have come looking for you when you didn’t get home overnight.”
    â€œOh, yeah,” he said. “I’m sure somebody would have. Still—”
    â€œForget it,” Barnes said. “Go home and get some rest. I’ll talk to you some more tomorrow.”
    Tommy didn’t need a second invitation. He tossed off the blanket, revealing a Hardrock Café T-shirt and baggy khaki shorts, and ran out the door. When he was gone, Barnes turned to me. “Get enough for a story?”
    â€œI’ve got everything but a comment from the lead investi­gator,” I said.
    Barnes frowned. “The lead investigator has no comment beyond the obvious ‘we’re investigating this vicious attack.’” She whirled and followed Tommy out the door.
    â€œThat is one up-tight broad,” Al said as he put his camera away.
    â€œIf she was strung any tighter she’d hum in the wind,” I said. “But that’s her problem, not ours.”
    â€œI have a feeling it’ll be your problem every time you try to get a statement for a story,” Al said.
    I groaned and turned to Lorrie. “How did Fairchild, or rather the fake Fairchild, get hold of the Square Meal on a Stick?”
    â€œIt was delivered by a man from the sales booth. It wasn’t open for business yet, but they were supposed to pass out free samples right after the ceremony,” she said. “At least I thought he was from the booth.”
    â€œWas the square meal made at the booth?”
    â€œYes. Vinnie had it made up this morning by a cook in the booth. He put it in an insulated container to keep it fresh.”
    â€œDid the delivery man hand the container directly to Fairchild?”
    â€œNo, he handed it to me,” Lorrie said. “I gave it to Fairchild. The fake Fairchild.”
    â€œWas there a time when Fairchild was out of sight between you handing the container to Fairchild and Fairchild handing it to Scott Hall?”
    â€œYes. I left Fairchild behind when I went over to Heritage Square to meet you and Al and Trish.”
    â€œSo the fake Fairchild had plenty of opportunity to apply the poison to the meal.”
    â€œOh, god, yes.” With tears running down her cheeks, she said, “If only I’d dragged Fairchild along with me, he might not have had a chance to do it.”
    I put an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t beat yourself up over that. You had no way of suspecting that somebody was trying to kill Vinnie.”
    â€œI know I didn’t, but still I feel guilty about it.”
    â€œThe killer would have found a way to poison the stick even if you’d kept him with you. This was a well-planned operation. For all we know the delivery man could have added the poison before giving it to you. Have the cops questioned him?”
    â€œThat detective pulled him into the office and talked to him for quite a while this morning,” Ellie said.
    â€œBut she didn’t arrest him?”
    â€œNo she didn’t,” Ellie said. “He came out looking like he’d been water boarded and hung by his heels to dry but she didn’t arrest him. Now I hope you don’t have any more questions for me. I’ve been dealing with this awful thing all day and I’m pooped.” Twin streams of tears began rolling down her cheeks.
    â€œGo home and make yourself a big gin and tonic,” I said. “I’ll call you later if I have more questions.”
    She wiped off the tears with her finger tips and