The Extinguished Guest (A Lexie Starr Mystery, Book 2) Read Online Free PDF

exact justice."
    "Okay. I think it's a little far-fetched, too, but it wouldn't hurt to check into
     Rosalinda if we get a chance. We don't want to make any assumptions that could prove
     to be wrong."
    "You're right. We probably should try to do an inquiry into what kind of relationship
     each of the guests had with Mr. Prescott. We don't want to overlook some seemingly
     insignificant detail that later turns out to be a key factor in his death."
    * * *
    I went to my room for my Minolta Maxxum camera. I wanted to get my own photos of the
     footprints outside, just in case they became significant later on in the investigation.
     Unfortunately, when I went outside to take the pictures, I discovered the sun had
     melted most of the early morning snow. Only two footprints still remained, one from
     a left shoe and one from a right. They were in the shade of a shrub on the north side
     of the front porch, where the snow was only beginning to melt in the late morning's
     warmth. A warm front was pushing through, I'd heard on the radio, and more seasonal
     temperatures were forecast for the early-spring day. The front would be short-lived,
     however, with another winter storm on the horizon.
    I photographed the footprints from several angles, noticing the right print looked
     misshapen, narrower than the left print just inches away. The right portion of the
     footprint must have been melting faster, I concluded, perhaps from having less weight
     applied to that side when the print was made. From the placement of the two footprints,
     it appeared the individual making them had walked to the side of the inn's front porch
     from the neighbor's yard or the carport, while staying on the red concrete landscaping
     stones bordering several raised flower gardens, until just before reaching the porch.
     The landscaping stones were almost dry and completely free of snow. Between the neighbor's
     yard and the flowerbeds was the Alexandria Inn's carport, where two of the squad cars
     had parked earlier. As the investigating team had surmised, it seemed probable the
     prints belonged to a responding officer who had pulled up to the carport upon arrival.
     If so, the officer had smaller than average feet, for the footprints were not made
     by large feet. It shouldn't be difficult to determine if any of the responding officers
     had small feet. The suburban town of Rockdale had only four or five police officers
     on its payroll.
    I jotted a quick note on a pad of paper I'd crammed in the pocket of my sweatshirt
     jacket. I wanted to remember to ask Stone if, by chance, he'd noticed any tire marks
     in the driveway or carport prior to the arrival of the officers. It didn't seem logical
     to me that someone with the intention of breaking into the inn to kill a guest would
     blatantly steer his car up the drive and park it in the carport while executing the
     murder. It was more logical to park on the next block and sneak up to the house from
     the alley behind the building. I decided to check the back of the house. Because most
     of the backyard was still in the shadow of the house, the snow there had barely begun
     to melt, and there were no signs of footprints leading to or from the alley or anywhere
     near the back porch or sidewalk.
    I snapped a couple of photos of the undisturbed layer of snow blanketing the backyard
     before noticing Robert Fischer sitting in a padded, wrought-iron chair on the back
     porch. He wiggled a couple of fingers at me, and I wiggled a few back. He was wearing
     a bright orange jumpsuit like you'd expect to see on a member of a chain gang picking
     up trash along a busy interstate. He'd worn a brown suit when I'd first seen him that
     morning, but he had changed into something more comfortable. A well-worn pipe dangled
     from his lips. Mr. Fischer looked very calm and collected, as if murder were an every
     day event in his life.
    Thinking this would be a perfect opportunity to pump him for information, I walked