Sentenced to Death Read Online Free Page A

trucks, and half the Sheriff’s Department cruisers, lights still strobing madly, along with TV vans from Manchester and Nashua, still surrounded the village square. Ray Dempsey’s lunch truck was also still in evidence, and by the crowd around his shiny chrome vehicle, it looked like business was booming.
    Captain Baker looked up, saw Tricia approach, and the corners of his mouth quirked up.
    “Hello, Grant,” she said in greeting, ignoring Russ.
    Baker sobered. “I’m so sorry about your friend, Tricia.”
    “Thank you.” That he’d even remembered she and Deborah were friends said something about him. No wonder she liked him so much.
    “They’ve taken the bodies away,” Russ volunteered.
    Not something Tricia was interested in knowing. She turned her attention back to Captain Baker. “Mr. Everett said you probably wouldn’t head the investigation.”
    Captain Baker nodded. “We’re glad to help with crowd control and the cleanup, but it’ll be up to the National Transportation Safety Board to determine the cause of the crash. From what witnesses have said, the plane’s engine had shut down. There was no explosion, no fire. From the looks of it, the pilot simply ran out of gas.”
    “Can I quote you on that?” Russ asked.
    Baker frowned. “No.”
    Again, Tricia ignored Russ. “That’s pretty much what Bob Kelly said. I don’t understand how that could have happened.”
    “It’s a known fact,” Russ said. “More light aircraft crashes are attributed to lack of fuel than any other cause, including pilot error—although if you ask me, not filling the gas tank is the biggest error a pilot could make.”
    Nobody asked you , Tricia was tempted to blurt, but thought better of it. Russ was really beginning to irritate her.
    Tricia looked back to the fire and rescue trucks that blocked her view of the carnage. From where she stood, the gazebo wouldn’t be in sight, anyway. Would she ever be able to walk past the once-charming park without thinking of Deborah and the terrible way she’d died? Unbidden tears began to form in Tricia’s eyes, and she swallowed hard to keep them from spilling over.
    “Mr. Smith tells me you witnessed the crash,” Baker said, his voice soft.
    Tricia nodded, and lowered her gaze so she didn’t have to meet his eyes. “It was . . . horrible.”
    “Did you notice anything out of the ordinary before . . . ?” He let his words hang.
    Tricia shook her head. “Only that the plane kept buzzing the crowd. I suppose so everyone would see the banner behind it.”
    “Have they tracked down the pilot’s wife yet?” Russ asked.
    “I wouldn’t be at liberty to say,” Baker said.
    Russ shrugged. He’d find out somehow. Probably make nice with the reporters and crew from the TV stations—buy them coffee and plead that his weekly was hardly a threat to their up-to-the-minute coverage.
    If Mrs. Capshaw was smart, she’d tell every member of the press “no comment” and take an extended vacation until the whole thing blew over. Then again, what would she have to tell him? If what Russ said was true, these kinds of crashes happened all the time. That fact brought Tricia no comfort—nor, she suspected, Deborah’s survivors, either.
    Baker looked back toward the crash site. One of his deputies signaled him. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said, and jogged toward the park again.
    Russ waved a hand in front of Tricia’s face, to pull her attention away from Baker’s retreating form and back to him. “Tough day,” he said.
    “Very tough,” she agreed.
    “You should spend the evening with friends. How about me? I’ll take you to dinner. It doesn’t have to be here in town.”
    “No, thank you.” He was the last person on the planet she wanted to be with. “I think I’ll just go home to my cat and lose myself in a good book.”
    Russ nodded toward Haven’t Got a Clue, where several people stood clustered around the entrance. “It doesn’t look like you’re going to