He motioned to
the bartender for another.
“You tried
to stop me from killing Deidre,” he said, “that’s when I cut you with the knife.
I thought you were going to remember that, but you were so far gone you just
fell back in your Lazy boy and passed out.
He started
to protest. “It takes a lot to get me to pass out. Did you slip me something in
my drinks?”
“Bingo,” he
replied, pointing a finger at me. “That’s another reason I picked you. You’re
smart.” The bartender brought two drinks and left. “You’re smart enough not to
go to the police.”
I shook my head.
“I have to. It’s the only way I can clear myself.”
“Clear what?”
Sam replied. “Here’s what we have now. My wife is dead in her kitchen. The only
fingerprints are mine, but it’s my house.” He took a drink. “I have an alibi
for the time she was killed, so they’re not going to go after me.” Sam paused.
“What alibi
do you have?” he asked, incredulously.
Sam smiled. “You
are, partner.”
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