Death Stretch Read Online Free PDF

Observant.” He leaned forward, tapping his pen against the notebook. “Plus, someone tried to run you down yesterday. That means you're important to the case.”
    Maybe he'd get an invitation for dinner after all.
    “I figure you know something you don't know you know.”
    Dinner invitation cancelled. Cop Sexy could get his own food. “Right. Because putting what you don't know you know into conversational English is so darn easy. I can’t help you. Thanks for stopping. Bye-bye now.”
    He stood. “Look. I'd like to talk about what you noticed at class.”
    “I already gave you a statement. Isn't that enough?”
    “Those were the facts. I'd like your insights. Your perceptions about the others in class.”
    What did the man really want?
    “Women always watch each other. They see things guys don't care, um, notice.” He held his ballpoint above his notebook. “Did you see anything in particular, any negative interactions? Anything that might point to a killer?”
    Sure, he stuck his foot in his mouth, but working for a construction company had toughened me up long ago. Poor guy meant well. Bless his heart. I'd help him out, right after I made him wait.
    “You want anything to drink?”
    “No, thanks. What do you remember from the start, when you arrived at the studio?”
    I poured myself a small glass of red wine and joined him at the table. “Flash sat at the reception desk when Ginger and I arrived.” A pause lengthened.
    Detective Johnson raised his head. “’Flash being?”
    “The stuck-up blonde.”
    “So?”
    “So why was she filling in for Justin Nash? According to Ginger, Justin was often late and nobody sat in for him before. I didn't see him until after Morgan died.” My stomach clenched. I wondered how long the memory of Morgan's death would nauseate me.
    “Nash ran an errand. His alibi checks. What else?”
    “Flash yelled at me for wearing my shoes.”
    “I'm guessing you smiled politely and removed them?”
    “I wanted to flip her off.” Probably shouldn't have admitted to pissed.
    “Then what?”
    “Morgan came out and schmoozed. And no, I didn't notice anything off.”
    “You sound unsure. What are you remembering?”
    “Well, there were lots of small groups.”
    “And?”
    Geez, the guy sounded like a daytime talk show host. “This is essentially a small town. We have best friends, but most of us get along with everyone. We're nice to those outside our circle. That's what I'm used to seeing at gatherings. People mingling, hugging, you know. No one did that at class. Women stood alone or with maybe one other person. The atmosphere was... cold.”
    “Why do you think that was?”
    “I don't know. Maybe they're strangers.”
    My memory skittered back, not really wanting to touch on the death scene. Detective Johnson put down his pen and sat with folded hands. It was kind of nice to have somebody wait for my ideas.
    “When Morgan walked into the room, the dynamics changed.”
    “How so?”
    “Like a light went on inside some of the women. They preened and tried to get his attention. But others, they either looked stone-faced or they ignored everyone else in the room, including Morgan. I didn't think about their behavior at the time, but that's kinda strange.”
    He picked up his pen. “Sure is. Can you give me names?”
    “Hello? I told you, the only person I knew there was Ginger.” Crap. I'd just thrown him at her. “But I don't know that she noticed.”
    “I'll check.” He stashed his pen and notebook in an inside pocket. “I appreciate your help.”
    “Sure. Anything else, Detective Johnson?”
    “Dirk.”
    I tried out his name in my head. “Okay. Any more questions, Dirk?”
    He stood. “Not right now, Katie.”
    “Dirk?” He waited. “What killed Morgan?”
    “I can't tell you, Katie. You know that.”
    “That's Ms. Sheridan to you. And I'm calling Ginger and telling her not to cooperate with you.”
    He breathed a sound between a sigh and a huff.