Free Dance of Death by Dale Hudson

shot, he asked her to sit in his truck. Yet, when she got out of his truck some time later, he looked closely at the back of her shirt and noticed there was no sand on it. Nor was there any sand on the back of the cloth-covered seats where she had been sitting.”
    â€œOn the back of her pants, either?” Hendrick asked with a quizzical look.
    â€œNo, sir. There was nothing on her pants or the back of her shirt.”
    â€œHow about blood?” Hendrick pressed. “Any blood on either her shirt or pants?”
    â€œThere was a tiny drop of blood on her pants and some on her hand. But, other than that, there was nothing.”
    â€œAnd you said she is our only witness of what went down?” Hendrick reiterated.
    King answered in the affirmative.
    Hendrick walked King away from the crime scene and toward Officer Brown and his supervisor, who were standing at the truck. He wanted to hear it again from the patrol officer and get his perspective.
    Hendrick being to summarize the facts. More so for himself than Sergeant King. “So, in essence, we got the robbery of a young couple. The husband is shot and the wife is not. The wife is the only person we have at this point who knows what happened, and the only person we can get any information from.”
    â€œIt’s the only one we know about so far,” King confirmed. “We believe there might have been other witnesses, but we don’t have any at this time.”
    â€œWell, we can’t count on finding another witness, so it is possible this girl is all we’ve got. And, given that her husband is dead, she just might turn out to be the only witness to the shooting.” Hendrick scratched his head. He didn’t like the direction this case had taken. “We’ve got no choice at this point but to stay with the girl and get all we can out of her, if we’re ever going to find out what happened here.”
    â€œYes, sir,” King snapped.
    â€œI agree with that.”
    Hendrick stepped up to Officer Brown and his supervisor, huddled around the lit truck. The additional information from Officer Brown could be the piece of the puzzle they needed to help solve this case. Brown repeated what he’d told his supervisor. Hendricks recognized immediately the officer was no raw recruit. Fortunately, this three-year veteran was a well-trained, astute and observant officer, everything Hendrick had aspired for all his men.
    â€œAnd you’re sure, Officer Brown, there was no sand anywhere on her front or backside?” Hendrick asked.
    â€œNo, sir.” Brown gestured with his hands. “The only sand I saw on her was on the knees of her jeans. Now, I did see a large amount of sand in my front seat when she exited my vehicle. She had to have gotten that on her when she and I checked on her husband. She had knelt down beside him and held his hand. I’m certain that’s where the sand on the seat of her pants came from.”
    Hendrick pulled King aside again. “John, we’ve got to get to this girl. We need to get her story from her and get it fast!”
    â€œYes, sir, I understand. She is important.”
    â€œShe is more than important,” Hendrick emphasized with great emotion, his hands flapping. “This whole case may depend on her and her testimony. In fact, if we don’t get it, we may never be able to solve this murder.”
    While serving in the army, Hendrick had played a little poker. Although he was never very good at it, he had learned a thing or two about human nature. The men in his outfit who consistently won were those who knew how to read and play other players. If they were ever going to solve this case, he needed a man like that: someone who was a natural at pinpointing changes in facial expressions and reading body language, someone who could hone in on the smallest sigh or bead of sweat on the upper lip, someone who could use that emotion and get the person to betray his