Death at the Trade Show: Target Practice Mysteries 3 by Nikki Haverstock Read Free Book Online Page B

strained around his biceps.
    He looked at Loggin and didn’t acknowledge or even look at Mary and me. “Loggin, come back in here. I’m going to introduce you to Moose; he’s a very important dude in the industry. Someone you really need to know.”
    Loggin hesitated then smiled broadly. “Have you met Mary and Di? They work at—”
    “Yeah, yeah, we’ve met. Hey. Loggin, let’s go.” It appeared his “Hey” was directed at us as he raised a hand in our general direction, though he didn’t bother to make eye contact.
    Loggin looked at us then back at Cold with a smile. “Uh, sure. I’ll be there in a second.”
    Cold disappeared back into the bar, and Loggin turned to us. “What was that about?”
    Mary’s lips were pursed, and she crossed her arms. “Such a jerk.”
    I chuckled. I neither liked nor trusted Cold. “He doesn’t like us, which is fair, ’cause we aren’t his biggest fans either.” Though it was an accurate statement, it didn’t fully sum up the feeling of unease I felt around him. “Be careful around him. He’s…” He set off my internal alarms. There was a harshness to him that scared me. But that was nothing I could prove.
    Inside the bar, laughter erupted. Cold stood inside, beaming, while men around him guffawed and slapped him on the back. Everyone else seemed to love the guy. I finished off my cider and looked back at Loggin. “Be careful, that’s all.”
    “Got it.” He reached out a hand for my empty glass and took Mary’s as well. “If you get a chance, stop by the Andersson booth; I’ll give you the official tour of the product line.”
    He went into the bar and dropped the glasses on a tray then joined Cold, another tall man, and a group of shorter guys. They probably weren’t that short, but they were all at least a head shorter than Loggin. Handshakes were passed around, and eager voices carried out of the bar. It was an all-boys club.
    If Liam were here, it wouldn’t matter. He never acted like there were more important people to rush off to. As I looked toward the lobby, the front door pushed open, and Jack came in carrying several bags.
    “Food’s here!” Moo leaped to his feet as I stood and raced over. My stomach growled as I approached Jack and thanked him.
    Mary caught up to me and grabbed a bag of food from Jack. “You’re the best. I’m starving.”
    ***
    Sitting on the couch of our suite, I could barely move. Empty containers of Indian food were scattered on the coffee table. I grabbed the last corner of naan, swiped it through the sauce, and savored it. “I can’t eat another bite.”
    Mary left the couch for the table and set up her computer and notebook. “I’m gonna take some notes on Cash’s show—networks, sponsors, et cetera. Somewhere in there’s the reason for his murder.”
    “Why are you so sure it’s related to the show?”
    Mary flipped through her notebook. “Because he was killed here. It’s unlikely that he had a beef with a neighbor and the neighbor traveled all the way to the OIT Show to kill him.”
    “True, but wasn’t his wife with him? The little blonde?”
    “Hannah.”
    “Yeah, Hannah. Maybe she killed him here specifically so there would be so many other suspects.”
    Mary pointed at her notebook. “Don’t worry. I have her at the top of the list. We need to find out everything we can about their marriage.”
    “And the actual murder. Do they know what floor he fell from? The railing is pretty high; was he lifted over? Could he have been pushed? Was he alive when he fell? Unconscious? Did he scream? Did the newspaper say anything?”
    Mary shook her head through my questions. “The newspaper just said that the police were investigating it as a homicide.” She turned back to her computer and wrote in her notebook.
    I debated another piece of the soft and chewy naan but decided that I wanted my pants to fit tomorrow. Rolling things over in my mind, I couldn’t imagine how Cash could have fallen over the