The Candy Cane Cupcake Killer Read Online Free PDF

chargin’ all the time, straight ahead. He held himself to a high standard, and he felt like everybody else ought to be the same way.” Sam shook his head. “It’s hard to talk about him in the past tense. Somebody as vital and bigger than life as Barney was, it seems like he’ll be around forever.”
    â€œAnd yet that can change in an instant,” Phyllis said. “To be honest, I’ve come to feel that way about you, Sam. Like you’ll always be around.” Her voice caught a little as she went on. “And then I see you doing something like leaning over so far that you’re practically falling out of the pickup while you tried to stop those horses . . .”
    She couldn’t talk anymore. At the time, she had been too caught up in what she was doing to think too much about how dangerous Sam’s heroic actions were, but now, when she realized just how easy it would have been at that moment for her to lose him, it was like a cold hand clutching at her heart.
    Her left hand rested on the seat beside her. Sam reached over with his right and laid it on top of hers. She turned her hand and laced her fingers together with his.
    â€œI’m not goin’ anywhere,” he said quietly. “I plan to be around for a good while yet.”
    â€œI hope so.” She tried to lighten the mood a little by saying, “What in the world did you mean when you said . . . Oh, I don’t even remember what it was now. It didn’t really sound like English, though.”
    â€œWhen are you talkin’ about?” he asked.
    â€œWhen I said something about John Wayne and
Stagecoach
.”
    â€œOh.” Sam laughed. “You mean Yakima Canutt.”
    â€œI know I’ve heard you talk about that before, but I can’t recall what it is.”
    â€œHe,” Sam said. “That’s the name of a famous Hollywood stuntman. He’s the one who jumped on the stagecoach team in the movie, not John Wayne. In fact, he did it twice: once when he was doublin’ one of the Apaches, and once when he was doublin’ the Duke. Remember the fella who falls under the stagecoach and the wheels go on either side of him?”
    â€œI suppose. Yes, I think so.”
    â€œThat’s Yak, too. Best stuntman there ever was.”
    â€œHow do you remember all these things?” Phyllis asked.
    â€œTrick brain,” Sam replied with a grin. “Just don’t ask me what I had for lunch yesterday, because odds are I can’t tell you.” He turned off the street into the parking lot of a sprawling redbrick building. “Anyway, we’re here.”
    He was right. They had arrived at the police department. Sam parked, and they went inside, shivering a little because the chilly December wind had gotten stronger during the evening. A cold front had blown through, and according to theforecast, the temperature was supposed to drop close to freezing by the next morning.
    It was warm inside the police department lobby, though. As she and Sam approached the counter, Phyllis wondered if Allyson and Nate Hollingsworth and Clay Loomis were already here. They probably were, and there was a good chance Chief Whitmire was already questioning one of them.
    She wondered also if the chief would handle the investigation into Barney McCrory’s murder himself, since he’d been the first officer on the scene, or if he would turn the case over to one of his detectives. She knew several of those detectives from previous cases.
    Sam told the officer at the counter who they were, and that Chief Whitmire had asked them to come in and give statements. She thanked them and told them to have seats in the waiting area, adding, “The chief will be with you shortly.”
    Phyllis supposed that answered her question about who would be heading up the investigation, at least for the time being.
    They waited for about thirty minutes before a door opened and