It Takes Two to Strangle Read Online Free PDF Page A

his mother and Charles Swickley sharing a tub of caramel corn in the middle of an aisle. Damon took a seat near the top corner where he could monitor them.
    “Spy much?”
    Damon looked up at Rebecca’s toothy grin hovering overhead. She had a raincoat draped over one arm and was sporting muck-style rubber boots.
    “I couldn’t help it,” Damon replied. “What’s she doing with him?” Rebecca squeezed past him to the open seat on his left.
    “The same thing as everyone else here,” she said. “Having a good time watching pigs sprint around a muddy track.” A horn sounded and six svelte swine sped off, splashing small spurts of mud, though it failed to reach the first row of spectators.
    “Good thing you brought your raincoat,” Damon teased.
    “It might rain later. And the boots are for the petting zoo.”
    All six pigs turned the final corner and made their way down the stretch, with the red-shirted number three eking out a victory over the green-shirted number five.
    “They weren’t chasing anything,” Damon observed.
    “What do you mean?”
    “At dog races, the dogs chase a stuffed rabbit.”
    “And do rabbits chase stuffed carrots?” quipped Rebecca.
    “Seriously. Why are the pigs running if there’s nothing in front of them?”
    “Well, horses don’t have anything in front of them.”
    “But they have jockeys. Are they trained?”
    “The jockeys? I suppose.”
    Damon laughed and twisted skin on Rebecca’s forearm. Rebecca sulked. Damon supposed she didn’t want him treating her like a sister.
    Victor announced the next set of racers, which looked conspicuously like the first group. Damon saw his mother look up and give him a little wave. Damon flushed and waved back. After watching the purple-shirted number one pig win by a snout, Damon and Rebecca skipped the final race in favor of the petting zoo.
    Despite a lack of rain, wet straw stuck to the kids’ clothing as they lay on the matted ground to get up-close views of the animals. Rebecca busied herself playing peek-a-boo with a cocksure rooster to the delight of a pair of identical twin girls decked out in matching Hello Kitty shoes and necklaces.
    Movement caught Damon’s eye beyond the end of the zoo. Fifty feet away, near a line of Port-a-Johns, Lirim threw his hands in the air. Skipper appeared to be pleading to him. Between the distance they stood from the petting zoo and the din of a human-animal symphony, Damon couldn’t make out their words. Fifteen seconds later, Skipper stalked off toward the row of trailers shaking his head. Lirim plucked a blade of grass, popped it between his teeth and headed into a portable toilet without knocking.

    Crawling into his double bed later that night, Damon pulled a sheet over his outstretched limbs, despite the heat. He turned onto his stomach and tucked his head under a flat dense pillow. A neighbor’s barking dogs during his formative years had prompted this silencing maneuver and it stuck. Drifting off to sleep, Damon felt an odd sensation pass through his body. He shook his head as if rebuffing a mosquito’s advances and fell into an uncomfortable sleep.

    Chapter 3

    Damon was momentarily dazed by the ringing telephone. He rubbed raw eyes and peered at blurry digits on the bedside clock.
    “Hello?” he said groggily into the phone’s mouthpiece.
    “Damon? It’s Gerry Sloman. What time is the fair supposed to open today?” The words rushed by.
    “Gerry?” Damon mumbled. “It’s seven thirty in the morning. What’s going on?”
    “Damon, what time does the fair open?” Gerry repeated with atypical urgency.
    “Ten o’clock. Why?”
    “I need you to call the county commissioner and let him know that the fair is cancelled until further notice. Then get down here to the fairgrounds. You’ve met a number of the Big Surf workers. I need you to give me whatever background you have on them.”
    “Wait, what?” Damon interrupted. The morning fog quickly lifted.
    “Just make the