Dead Man's Hand (Caden Chronicles, The) Read Online Free

But it’s not just me working on the cases. There’s a whole group of us. Together we check the real crimes against television shows that have similar elements. Each member of our group has a special area of interest. I’m a huge
NCIS
and
Criminal Minds
fan.”
    “I can’t imagine that anyone could ever solve a murder doing something as silly as that.”
    “Actually, it’s a lot easier than you think. Our analysis usually renders a fairly accurate summary of who the likely perpetrator is. The good news is, most murders are committed by really dumb people, so finding the killer isn’t as hard as most people imagine.”
    “Sounds like you got it all figured out. Don’t hardly see where you even need my help finding Billy the Kid’s killer. But just to be safe, I wouldn’t go around talking too much about what you think you saw. Folks might not take too kindly to you accusing them of murder.”
    He cut his eyes across the room toward the poker table. A new player had joined the game and sat with his back to me. He wore a checkered shirt similar to the one worn by the driver of the Dodge Charger. Same color pants, too.
    “Now if you’ll excuse me,” the marshal said, patting his vest pocket, “I got to get this slug off to ballistics.”
    When Mom and Dad arrived, I joined them in the buffet line.
    “Nick, make sure you get some vegetables,” Mom said, chiding me on my lousy eating habits. “You know what the doctor said about your cholesterol level.”
    I waited until she’d moved down the line before dumping two spoonfuls of mashed potatoes on my plate and snagging a roll.
    “That’s not a vegetable,” Wendy quipped.
    “And you’re not my mother.”
    “Mom! Nick said he’s not—”
    I spooned a small helping of green beans onto my plate. “There, happy?”
    My sister smirked. I plopped another, larger helping onto
her
buttered roll and pushed past her.
    “I think that’s him,” I said, sliding into the chair next to Dad. “That guy at the poker table is the person I saw getting out of the car.”
    “Thought you said you didn’t see his face.”
    “I didn’t, but he’s wearing the same outfit.”
    Taking a cue from another player, the mysterious card player hooked his arm on his chair and pivoted, staring at me. Same black hat with the low crown, same thick sideburns as the phantom figure in the hayloft. With his gaze still locked on me, the gunslinger aimed his finger at me and pretended to squeeze the trigger.
    “That’s him!” I whispered to Dad. “That’s the guy I saw in the hayloft.”
    “The dead man?”
    “No! The man in the video.
And
getting out of the Charger.”
    “Don’t murderers usually flee the scene of a crime?” my sister said sarcastically. “Or maybe it’s different for ghosts.”
    “What about ghosts?” said Mom, walking back from the dessert bar.
    “Nick thinks he sees one.”
    “Really? Where?”
    “That’s not what I said.”
    “That’s what I
heard
.”
    Mom paused from unloading her tray and scanned the room. “Where is the ghost?”
    I pointed toward the poker table.
    “Looks like a bunch of men playing poker to me,” Mom said, sounding disappointed.
    “Nick thinks that might be the guy he saw in the video,” Dad said to Mom.
    “And in the car,” I added.
    “Well for gosh sakes, don’t say or do anything to upset him, Nicholas. This isn’t a game like your online detective group. You can’t just walk up to people and question them about a murder.”
    “I
know
that, Mom. But I would like to ask him where he was earlier this evening.”
    “And if he was in the barn?” Dad replied.
    “I don’t know, Nick. That guy looks like a real outlaw,” Wendy said, mocking me. “What if he draws on you?”
    “Maybe I’ll drag you over there and use you for cover.”
    “Would you two stop?” said Mom. “People are starting to stare.”
    “Son, pass the salt.”
    “Frank, you know what the doctor said.”
    “And the butter,” Dad