Too Much at Stake Read Online Free Page B

dried bloodstains covering the face and top clothing. If the deceased was put in the canvases when the Tent was taken down, that would make him here about ..." She paused, silently counting the months in her head. "Five months." Ruth no longer heard anything other than her own voice as she continued to describe the scene and the body.
    Just who are you, Mr. Corpse?
she thought, interrupting her dictation and reaching in his pocket for more clues to his identity.

    At the same time, outside the nearby chalet, Deb was shifting her weight nervously from foot to foot. "Why is it always hurry up and wait?" she pouted. "I'm hungry! The least they could do is feed us after all that work."
    "Settle down, Deb. We want them to get this right. This is a horrible thing that has happened," Pat said sagely, glancing over at the young deputy who kept watch over the long line of people waiting to be called for questioning.
    "But we've stood here for over an hour
after
they herded us into line like a bunch of animals," Deb grumbled.
    "I know, Deb, but we want to cooperate.
We
know we didn't do anything wrong. So it's just a nuisance, that's all," Pat soothed.
    "But why were Mitch and Marc fingerprinted first? They weren't even in the barn!" Deb whined. "My favorite part of the tent-raising is the potluck feast we have for lunch afterwards," she added petulantly, trying to solicit a little sympathy. When she didn't get a response, she turned her attention toward the chalet, from which Mitch and Marc were emerging, each with a satisfied smile. Marc carried a Mountain Dew, and Mitch, a Diet Coke.
    "What did you bring me?" Deb called out.
    "How was it, Mitch? Did they ask any questions?" Sam's voice interrupted apprehensively from behind her.
    "Let me see your fingers," Carl Carlson ordered impolitely. "I want to see what kind of ink stains it leaves. I've never been fingerprinted before."
    "I have," replied Mitch enigmatically.
    "When were you fingerprinted before?" Deb asked, although she looked quizzically at Pat.
    "Does it hurt?" asked Carl.
    "Nothing to it, guys," Marc replied, holding up his perfectly clean fingers. "Especially since none of us had anything to do with this."
    "Just a precaution; that's what they said," Mitch added.
    "What's going to happen to all that food in there?" Deb asked longingly.
    "I thought you two had turned over a new leaf about food," Marc teased.
    Deb blushed, like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "Sure, we've done better. But I have hypoglycemia, you know — low blood sugar. And when I'm under stress, it's worse."
    "And this is a big one," Pat said, coming to her friend's rescue.
    "Don't let it get to you so much," Marc said, trying to offer comfort. "See you at home. We're cleared to leave."
    "Bye, you two. We have to go," Mitch added. "We're stopping at Patsy's on the way home for a burger."
    "Do you mind starting dinner tonight?" Deb called, glaring at the two men as they walked down the stairs to the car. "The way this is going we'll be here until midnight! Hey! Give me that Mountain Dew!" she barked after them. Marc just waved and kept on going.
    "I can't believe they wouldn't let us finish hauling the bleachers out of the barn," grumbled someone behind them.
    Pat turned around and rallied a smile. "It's okay, Phil. Somehow this baby of yours will be safely delivered on time," she soothed.
    "Pat Kerrey! Next!" Sal called impatiently from the screen door of the chalet.
    "Good things come to those who wait," Sam teased Deb. "Especially those who wait patiently."
    "Tell him to pick me next," Deb urged Pat as she made her way to the front of the line.
    "I'm not going to stand in line when there's so much work to be done!" Phil complained loudly. He turned and stomped off toward the big tent. "If they need me, they know where to find me! I've got a show to get out."
    He's going to get in trouble,
Deb thought.

    Deb crept to the screen door, trying to peek inside.
    A young officer stepped in front