Read Online Choke by Kaye George - Free Book Online

that protruded from Hugh’s orifice retained an imprint of footwear.”
    “A footprint? What kind?”
    “They showed it on the television screen. It looked like the imprint of a cowboy boot, with the shape of the ball of the foot and the narrow heel. There was some sort of squiggle at the edge of the heel.”
    “Well, that’s not a good clue. Half of Saltlick wears cowboy boots. Let’s think about this. Detectives make lists. Let’s make a list.”
    “A list of what?”
    “Um, suspects, I think.”
    Immy’s mother brightened at that. “That is a decent idea, Imogene.” She swung her feet over the side of the bed and leaned toward Immy eagerly, setting her round elbows on her rotund knees. “Yes. I did not kill Huey, we know that, so someone else did. Good thinking, Imogene. Let’s cogitate to figure out who did actually kill him.”
    “OK.” Immy drew columns on a piece of motel stationery and headed one Suspects. “Should I put you down because the cops think you’re good for it?”
    “I’m not a suspect to us, just to the police. Whom do we suspect?”
    Immy shrugged. Her pen hovered over the first column. If she had colored pens she could put her mother down in one color and the other suspects in another. She looked at her mother. Her mother looked back at her.
    “Someone wearing cowboy boots,” said Hortense.
    “I’ll write ‘male Population of Saltlick.’ Oh, some females, too, right?” Immy’s pen, however, remained still.
    “Don’t be mouthy, Imogene. We know that someone killed him. He wouldn’t choke himself on frozen sausage,” said Hortense.
    “Frozen sausage. That’s a clue. So someone had to know where to get the sausage. It had to be someone who worked at the restaurant.”
    “No, not of a necessity.” Hortense shook her head slowly and tapped a chubby forefinger on her lower lip. “Hugh could have just procured the sausage from the walk-in prior to the time when the murderer arrived.”
    “Maybe the murder brought it with him.”
    Hortense stared at Immy. “The murderer did not bring frozen sausage with him. People don’t carry frozen sausage around. It was a, what do they call it a weapon of?”
    “A weapon of opportunity?” That had been in her Compleat book.
    Immy thought she saw a glint of admiration in her mother’s eye. “Yes, that’s it exactly.”
    “Does this tell us who murdered Uncle Huey?” asked Immy.
    “No, but it makes me hungry, talking about sausage. Where’s the nearest pizza place? What is that toilet tissue doing on the carpet?”
    * * *
    HORTENSE FINISHED LICKING THE LAST of the mozzarella cheese from her fingers, wiped them delicately on one of the brown napkins that had come with the pizza and soda, and took up the TV remote.
    “Back to our list?” asked Imogene. “I think I know who a good suspect is.”
    Her mother looked at Immy with genuine interest. “Pray tell.”
    “Xenia. I’m putting her down.”
    “I thought she quit Hugh’s employ and left well before the crime was committed.”
    “She could have come back. In fact, if she did murder Uncle Huey, she might have left incriminating evidence behind. She might have been there today to get it. Anyway, I’ve seen her wear cowgirl boots. I need to interview her.”
    “It will, I surmise, be a difficult interrogation. She’s unconscious in the hospital.”
    That was true. Even if she regained consciousness, she was in a sort of public place where Immy would be recognized if she tried to go there to grill her.
    Her mother found a channel she wanted and set the remote beside her on the bed. Immy moved from the bed to the chair at the desk, where she had left her two reference books. It was becoming more and more clear to Immy that she needed good disguises. She turned to the index of her Moron’s Compleat book.
    “It’s here,” she crowed. “Disguises is listed as a topic.”
    Her mother picked up the remote, muted the television and frowned. “Imogene, for cryin’ out