Free The Fat Man by Ken Harmon Page B

dad was a mess. There was more blood than I was expecting; his face was decorated in red. Just looking at it made my stomach churn, but I was pretty sure upchucking would make me look even more guilty—not that I needed any help.
    On the human side, a big detective came in with a medical examiner and cleared the room. “I want to see if you can tell me how this guy died before I mess with the crime scene any more,” the detective told the doctor. “We can’t find a single print, a broken window or door, nothing. We can’t find a weapon, so see if you can give me any idea of what else to look for.”
    The doctor opened his sack and began looking for his tools. The big detective stepped back and waited, studying the room for anything he might have missed.
    Somewhere far behind Bert and me there was a noise, a kind of dull rumble. It was coming from Kringle Town and headed our way. As it got closer, we could make out that it was the voices of elves. They were shouting my name. They were mad. They were coming after me.
    The one voice rising over the throng, the angriest, the one leading the pack, belonged to Kringle Town’s rising citizen—Cane.
    “You can arrest me, Bert,” I said. “But you got to keep that mob from tearing me apart.”
    “Don’t move,” Bert growled and stomped off toward the crowd. I watched him go and wondered if it made more sense for me to run. On the one hand, it would prove to every elf in Kringle Town that I was as guilty as I could be. On the other hand, it sounded like most of the elves didn’t need any help with that idea. I was trying to figure how I could build my defense when the medical examiner called the detective over to Raymond’s body.
    “You might want to check around for bullet holes again, Detective,” the doctor said, shining a light at Raymond’s bloody head. “I was trying to find where all this blood came from, but I couldn’t find a wound and then I caught the reflection of something.”
    “What is it?” the detective asked, peering in. Invisible to the human cops, I peered in too.
    The doctor worked a pair of tiny tweezers just above Raymond’s right cheek. Slowly, the doctor pulled something out. “This,” he said, holding the tiny object up to the detective. “It’s a BB. Someone shot his eye out.”

    My neck went clammy and I got dizzy as a top. Whoever knocked off Raymond Senior went to a great deal of trouble to hide how they did it. Something told me that I was getting railroaded and that whoever was driving the train was in that mob and coming up fast. I wasn’t going to have time to explain everything so we could find out who did this to Raymond. I wasn’t going to have time to go to Raymond Junior and tell him I was sorry and that he and his dad didn’t deserve this. The only way to get more time was to run no matter how guilty it made me look. I needed to figure out the who and the why. My bright idea opened the door for someone to kill Raymond, but I didn’t have to let them get away with it.
    I owed it to Raymond and Little Ray.
    I owed it to Santa.
    I owed it to every kid who wanted to believe in something good.
    I had one clue: an eye shot out with a BB.
    Ralphie!

CHAPTER 11
    Over the River and Through the Woods

    THE MARSHMALLOW WORLD GAZETTE
    Elf Collector Scores Rare Comic
    Talk to Dingleberry Fizz for more than a minute and you’ll discover two things he loves: making toys and By George Adventures . Kringle Comics has been publishing the plucky yarns of Bedford Falls’ most famous lassoer for decades, creating one of comics’ most enduring characters. But to fans like Dingleberry Fizz, By George is a guide to life. “He is just the best,” Dingleberry gushes. “He’s brave, he’s funny, he’s smart. He’s a dreamer and he always finds a way to make his dream come true—even if he’s running from a tribe of Mayan Piggy Pygmies through a maze of mutant okra plants. He did that too, you know.” Because others share