Free Deadly Secrets by Jude Pittman Page A

Kelly’s response, his black eyes glittered. Kelly itched to slap his face but that was stupid. The jerk was trying to goad him. Letting out a breath, Kelly shrugged his shoulders.
    “As you say, better keep your mouth shut. I reckon that’ll be a bit of a challenge for you.”
    Frank blinked and deflated. He’d expected Kelly to fish for information.
    Disgusted, Kelly walked away. He’d had all he could take for one day. It was time to pack it in for the night. Ignoring Frank, he called goodnight to Bubba, waved to the group at the table and headed out the door.
    The short walk in the cold night air cleared some of the smoke out of Kelly’s lungs. It had been one hell of a long day and night and he was bone tired. When he reached the cabin and opened the door, Jake, who’d been stretched out on the rug, stood up and wagged a welcome.
    “It looks like things have quieted down around here,” Kelly slipped off his jacket and bent down to give the dog a body rub.
    Finishing the rubdown, Kelly opened the door to let Jake outside, then glanced across the room and spotted the red light blinking on his answering machine. He walked over, punched the playback button and listened to the tape.
    “Got your message, Kelly,” Gus’ voice boomed in his ear. “Angelo’s sounds like a winner. I’ve got a bit of news to pass along but it’ll keep ’til then. I should make it by six but if you get there first, grab a table and order me the large mixed rack. See you then.”
    Kelly let Jake back in and the two of them headed toward the bedroom while Kelly mulled over his conversation with Gus. “I wonder if he’s found out who the woman is? Wouldn’t surprise me, knowing Gus.”
    Jake flopped down on the rug beside the bed and settled his nose between his paws.
    “You’re right, boy,” Kelly said and chuckled at the dog. “It’s time to hit the hay. I’m right behind you.”
    When Kelly opened his eyes the next morning, sunlight streamed through the window. He checked his bedside clock. It was eight—two hours past his usual hour for rising—but the flea market was closed, so other than a quick pass of the outbuildings, his time was his own. Stretching, he kicked back the covers and sat on the side of the bed.
    “Bit of a nip in the air,” he said to Jake, who had risen from the rug and was giving himself a shake.
    Kelly took a shower and made a pot of coffee, then grabbed a notebook and settled down at the kitchen table. Years ago his criminology professor had stressed the importance of getting your facts in order before starting an investigation. Right now, Kelly knew he needed some organization.
    He started a timetable, jotting down the names of everybody who’d been in the vicinity of the flea market between midnight and two a.m. Then he tried thinking of a motive for everybody on his list. He started with Cam who owed her money. Frank’s name was next and after staring at the paper for a bit, he settled for cussedness.
    By the time Kelly got to Leroy and Marty’s names, he’d already decided the list was a dumb idea but he was determined to finish. After several minutes of gnawing the end of his pencil, he finally skipped their names and moved on to Bubba. The bait-man could have had a couple of motives. Kelly wrote them down. Fish-camp, lover’s quarrel. Then he stopped, read back over what he’d written and shook his head. This wasn’t getting him anywhere.
    Dropping his pencil on the table, he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. “Take care of the place,” he called to Jake. “I’m going to have another talk with Bubba.”
    There was always a possibility Bubba had seen something he hadn’t thought to mention. Of course, he’d been drinking whiskey, so he probably wouldn’t remember a Mack truck roaring through the bar. Still, it was worth a try. If nothing else, Kelly could find out what time Bubba and Leroy left the bar.
    Bubba was running around filling bait cans and handing out tackle