Candy Crushed: A Pumpkin Hollow Mystery by Kathleen Suzette

Author:Kathleen Suzette [Suzette, Kathleen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-09-05T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

“I love this time of year,” I said as we stood in line and for the carousel. In the town square, there was a large, old-fashioned hand-painted carousel that was lit up from top to bottom. It was a mild evening, and it felt good to be outside. I took hold of Ethan’s hand and squeezed it.

He grinned at me. “I love this time of year, too. And I can’t wait for colder weather.”

I looked toward the head of the line, hoping it would be our turn soon, then turned back to him. “You do like the snow, don’t you?”

He nodded. “I sure do. I haven’t gone snowboarding in forever, and I’ve been thinking about it for the past several days.”

I nodded. “It would be nice to get away for a few days. Maybe when it snows, we can go to one of the cabins out by the lake, and you can go snowboarding.”

He grinned. “Now you’re talking. We need some time away.”

We inched up in line a few more feet, and then the carousel came to a stop, and the riders exited the ride. In a few moments, we were allowed to get on the carousel, and Ethan handed our tickets to the attendant, and I found a bench, and we sat down together on it.

“This was one of my favorite attractions when I was a little girl,” I told him.

He nodded. “I liked it when I was a kid, too. Me and my buddies would try to sneak up on the backside and get on without paying, but we usually got caught.”

“Sounds dangerous for little boys to be doing that,” I said, raising an eyebrow.

He chuckled. “Well, I suppose it wasn’t the safest thing to do. What can I say? We were little boys.”

I grinned as riders around us got onto the horses. Each horse was hand-painted and was an antique. There was a bench that faced us, but it was empty, and I was glad. I just wanted to be alone with Ethan for a while.

“How’s the investigation going?”

He sighed. “It’s going nowhere. The fingerprints from the car came back, but like I said before, there were a lot of them, and most belonged to Gina. The killer could have worn gloves when they got inside.”

“But they wouldn’t have time for gloves if it was a spur of the moment thing. Only if it was planned. Whose fingerprints are on the steering wheel and the driver’s side door handle?”

He looked at me, one eyebrow raised. “Well, there were lots of Gina’s prints, and her father’s, her stepmother’s, Sonya’s, and a bunch of smudged ones.”

“So most of them are from people she knew and saw regularly,” I said thoughtfully. “If they had worn gloves, would they have smeared all the fingerprints that they touched?”

“It’s possible. But not necessarily. It would depend on what kind of gloves they were wearing. There were a lot of smudged ones, but that in itself isn’t unusual. When somebody drives a car, they move their hands around the steering wheel, and they could smudge them that way.

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