Free Surest Poison, The by Chester D. Campbell Page B

promised to call on the HarrCo
owner that afternoon.
    Jaz pushed her plate back on the table
and looked across at Sid, biting gently on her lower lip. “You know you made
a couple of guys very unhappy last night. Particularly
after they had to report back to their boss.”
    “True.”
    “They’ll likely be back looking for
revenge, and loaded for bear.”
    “The bear will be ready.”
    “Are you carrying?”
    “Private investigators don’t usually go
armed, Jaz. You know that.”
    “If I were you, I think I’d seriously
consider revising the rules for this case.”
    He held out his cup to the waitress for a
refill. “Okay, I’ll give it serious consideration.”
    She looked across at him, her eyes
brightening. “So you threw them both off the porch. I didn’t realize you
were that aggressive.”
    He sipped at his coffee. “I guess you
haven’t heard about my tender upbringing. I was always big, even as a kid.
My dad left us when I was a baby, and Mom and I lived with my grandfather,
who was a cop. One of the kids in the neighborhood had some boxing gloves.
He put me up to fighting an older boy who always gave the little ones a hard
time. When he started really coming after me, I
put him down for the count. My Mom didn’t like it, but Grandpa just laughed.
He said, ‘Boy, you’d better always fight on the right side.’ I’ve tried to
do that.”
    “I’d say there wasn’t any question about
last night.” She pushed her plate back and checked her watch. “I still have
plenty of time, but we’d better get moving.”
    Sid paid the check. He told Jaz they
would drive to the newspaper office in his truck. Out in the parking lot,
she hesitated as he held the door open. She cocked an eyebrow. “You sure
this thing will get us there and back?”
    “For your information, lady, this thing
is a lean, mean motion machine. It may not be the prettiest pickup on the
lot, but I assure you it will get us anywhere you want to go.”
    She grinned. “Okay. If you’re sure.”
    A few minutes later they parked a short
distance past the courthouse in front of a long storefront building that
accommodated several small businesses. The newspaper occupied the end unit.
They hurried through the rain to a glass door plastered with notices. Sid
followed Jaz inside.
    An aisle ran down the middle of the
office, with partitioned cubbyholes on either side. At the first desk, a
young woman with sharp-pointed cat-eye glasses glanced up with a smile.
    “Are you interested in subscribing or
advertising?”
    “Neither.” Sid handed her a business
card. “We’re investigating the chemical spill at the HarrCo plant that’s
been in the news. It appears the spill took place some dozen years back
while Auto Parts Rehabbers occupied the plant. We’re having no luck locating
anybody who was connected with the company.”
    She tapped her pen on the desk. “I think
you need to talk to our editor, Carl Norris.”
    She led them back to the last cubicle,
where a young man wearing gold-rimmed glasses stared at a computer screen.
Bristles of black hair stood straight like mini-antennas tuned to the
community’s pulse. Tabloid-size newspapers, notebook sheets, and several
photos crowded for space on the desk.
    “Carl,” she said, “these people are
investigating that TCE pollution at the HarrCo plant. I thought you’d want
to talk to them.” She handed him Sid’s card.
    Norris pulled up a couple of chairs and
invited them to have a seat. “I’m working on a story about the TCE mess.
What can you tell me about it?”
    “We were hoping you could tell us
something,” Sid said. “We’ve run into the proverbial brick wall with a
company named Auto Parts Rehabbers. It appears to have been the guilty
party.”
    The editor’s eyes widened. “Auto Parts Rehabbers? That’s a new one on me.”
    “I’m not surprised. We’ve had a problem
finding anyone who had a connection to the