Read Online Fry Another Day by J. J. Cook - Free Book Online Page A

wasn’t impressed. “If you two will come this way.”
    We went with her to a small conference room. The metal bar on the table reminded me that criminals were interrogated here. It made me uncomfortable, which was probably a good thing. I have a way of running off at the mouth sometimes. I was sure this wasn’t an appropriate moment for that. I clamped my lips closed as I sat down.
    Just let Miguel do the talking. Don’t say anything you’ll regret.
    Another detective, who introduced himself as Stanley Marsh, stood at the side of the room while Detective Helms sat down with us. He looked like he was in his thirties, maybe, with dirty blond hair and blue eyes. His clothes were worn and dirty. Maybe he was an undercover cop.
    I could tell Miguel was a little agitated. His face was alert as he spoke to the two detectives. “What’s going on? Miss Chase understood that she was here to speak to Detective McSwain.”
    Detective Helms put a card on the table. “Recognize that, Miss Chase?”
    That was easy enough. “Yes. It’s my business card. Was there something wrong with giving it to Detective McSwain?”
    The two detectives glanced at each other.
    â€œWe found your card on Detective McSwain’s
body
a short while ago,” Detective Helms said in an accusatory tone.
    I sat forward in my chair. “Body? He was perfectly alive and well when I saw him last. You can ask all the police officers who were out there with the food truck race. I barely even talked with him alone.”
    â€œA short while ago, Detective McSwain was found dead. He appears to have been the victim of a hit-and-run.”
    â€œThat happened very quickly,” Miguel added. “We were only thirty minutes out of Charlotte.”
    â€œSo the two of you were together?” Detective Marsh asked.
    â€œYes. We’ve been together since I left Detective McSwain.” I peeked at Miguel. He didn’t seem to have a problem with me saying that.
    â€œWhat did you and Detective McSwain talk about?” Marsh was standing against the wall with his arms folded across his chest.
    â€œHe asked me a few questions about Reggie Johnson the first time. Later, I told him that I’d heard Alex Pardini from the race talking about killing Reggie.”
    Helms nodded to Marsh. “The dead man from the food truck.”
    Marsh moved toward the table. “And what did you tell him?”
    â€œI told him that I barely knew Reggie. We were both from Mobile and had food trucks. That was about all we had in common. I was walking past an RV when I heard Alex talking to someone about Reggie’s death like it wasn’t an accident and there could be more to come. Alex was talking about covering it up.”
    â€œAnd you and Mr. Johnson were both competitors in the food truck race, no?” Helms suggested.
    â€œNot really.” I smiled at both of them, not wanting to sound superior, but let’s face it—the Dog House wasn’t a real competitor with the Biscuit Bowl. “I make most of my food from scratch. Reggie put hot dogs on buns and dressed them up.”
    Marsh slammed his hand on the table. “Did you kill Reggie Johnson, or were you in
any
way responsible for his death?”
    Miguel sat forward. “What’s this about? I was with Miss Chase when she was speaking to Detective McSwain. He never said anything about her being responsible for Mr. Johnson’s death. In point of fact, Miss Chase was constantly with others, who will be glad to vouch for her entire morning.”
    Detective Helms made a dismissive motion at Detective Marsh. The man immediately backed off to stand against the wall again.
    â€œHere’s what we’ve got,” Helms said. “We have a food truck driver who was found dead after a strap was cut that held his refrigerator in place. That happened
before
the race. We had reason to think it might be suspicious even without what