Bingo Barge Murder Read Online Free

still.
    Detective Johnson’s voice rumbled. “Mr. Cooper’s employer was murdered last night.”
    “What?” My eyebrows shot up of their own accord, even though this wasn’t news. “You’re kidding. What happened?”
    Could they tell I was spewing tall tales? Were they about to whip out the cuffs?
    Instead of flashing metal, Detective Johnson said, “We’ve got some video showing multiple persons entering and exiting the office where the murder took place. Your friend was seen on the tape leaving in a rather agitated state.”
    Videotape. Could it clear Coop? If it did, why were the cops looking for him? Speaking carefully, I said, “You think Coop killed Kinky? He won’t kill a mosquito. Seriously.”
    Johnson hitched an eyebrow. “You know Stanley Anderson?”
    Whoa. Open mouth, insert grimy shoe. “I met him a few times when I’ve gone to see Coop at work. And Coop wouldn’t lay a finger on his boss.” I didn’t add that Coop was so grossed out by Kinky that you couldn’t pay him to put a pinkie on the man.
    JT eyed me for a beat. “We don’t know who killed Mr. Anderson.” Then her dark eyes softened again for a moment. “You’re sure you haven’t seen Mr. Cooper today, Shay?” Those eyes intrigued me, even as I watched them shift back into assessment mode.
    “No, I haven’t.” The lie came a bit easier this time. I wanted to ask them if they had fingerprints off the dauber, but they hadn’t yet told me what the murder weapon was. Man, it was as hard to withhold information as it was to lie. If the cops didn’t have fingerprints, maybe they were just running down all of the people on the video and asking questions. How long did it take to identify fingerprints? Hours? Days?
    They peered at me silently. I decided some interrogation of my own couldn’t make matters much worse. Maybe they’d tell me something that we could use to help Coop. “How did Kinky die?”
    Johnson shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s not something we can discuss.”
    Detective Bordeaux dug into her jeans pocket and threw a five on the table. “If you can think of anything that might help us, or if you see Mr. Cooper, please give me a call. Actually, better yet, have him call me.” She handed me her card, eyes still glued to me like a hungry animal patiently waiting for feeding time. I wanted to squirm, figuratively and literally, under that hot gaze. Did she just want information from me?
    After thanking me for my less-than-helpful help, the detectives threaded their way through the room to the front door. Before Detective Bordeaux stepped outside, she called out, “Kate, that capp was just like it used to be. Thanks.”
    Kate saluted JT, and I grinned weakly. After the door shut amid the chime of bells, I collapsed into the chair with my head in my arms. My mind was a blur of dread and guilt, mixed with some intriguing thoughts about some rather unethical but very hot ways Detective Bordeaux could try to pry the truth out of me. I had no idea if my untimely re-attraction was one-sided, but under different circumstances, I could easily have been persuaded to find out. Unless, of course, Kate beat me to it.

For a half hour, I dodged the questions Kate kept lobbing about my visit with the Daring Duo. I was relieved when my longtime pal Doyle Malloy stopped in late in the afternoon for coffee and a chat. He was my first, last, and only boyfriend. Convinced he’d turned me into a lesbian, he often laughed about our doomed relationship. He was a Minneapolis detective who only worked high-level homicides. Maybe I could get something out of him to help Coop.
    Once he settled at a table, I sat across from him. “So Doyle, you hear about the murder on the Pig’s Eye Bingo Barge?”
    “Yeah, I heard about—ah damn!” Doyle swore as the sip of coffee meant for his mouth was sucked up by the front of his white oxford shirt. He swiped halfheartedly at the tan-colored stain.
    I stifled a laugh. “Don’t worry. It