Page 54 of Lethal Danger

He chuckled. “Probably right. Thanks.”

She gave him a thumbs up before swinging away to continue her pattern.

He backtracked to the staff entrance, his mind clicking through new questions. Had Sam gone to the fair with friends that night? If so, why wouldn’t they have come forward after his death? Maybe because they knew his death wasn’t an accident.

Hawthorne pushed open the door and stepped into the night air, many degrees cooler than the daytime shift he’d had today.

The crowds that had been there when he’d begun interviewing Christy had finally disappeared. Now only staff members finished up at rides and walked along the wide paths that suddenly looked unnecessarily massive and empty.

Had Christy just given Hawthorne a clue that no one had before now? That Sam maybe wasn’t alone. That he may have come to the fair with someone. That someone might know what happened that night.

For the first time, Hawthorne was starting to think Rebekah could be on the right track. He’d never doubted the possibility, but the evidence and police documentation had all pointed to an accident as the most likely conclusion.

Now, the scales might be tipping in the other direction. But the only way to know for sure would be to find out if Sam had been with someone—or multiple someones. That would change everything.

“Hey, Brent.” Hawthorne lifted his hand to hail a food vendor he’d questioned earlier.

The man in his thirties glanced at Hawthorne as he locked the door of his food stand. “Hey, man. I’m heading out for the night.”

“I know. I don’t want to keep you. Maybe we can walk out together?”

“Sure.” Brent Vaughn shrugged as he swung the strap of a messenger bag over his shoulder and started at a slow pace along the blacktop, his tired posture showing fatigue.

“I just learned from a ride operator that there was a group of four, maybe five, young guys who were drunk that night.”

Brent shot Hawthorne a skeptical sideways glance. “That describes a lot of the clientele on a Saturday, man.”

“Fair enough. Does that mean you saw a group like that the night Sam died?”

Brent cast his gaze to the starry sky as he trudged along. “I don’t know. I could have. But I really wouldn’t remember.”

Hawthorne stifled a sigh. “Okay. Thanks for your time. Let me know if anything comes back to you, will you? You have my card.”

“Yeah. Sure thing.”

“Have a good night.” Hawthorne lengthened his stride as he waved and headed for a shortcut to the Public Safety Center. Veering behind the Twirling Swings ride and the Torch Rocket ride, he reached the narrow path that wound behind their underbellies. Pretty dark now that the ride’s lights were off.

Hawthorne activated the flashlight on his smartphone so he could walk without tripping over the cords that crisscrossed the blacktop.

How many other people would respond like Brent, with no memory of the group of guys that Christy had remembered? It wasn’t likely Hawthorne would find someone who could identify any of them if the staff couldn’t even remember the group at all. Especially now, two years later.

He blew out a breath. But he wouldn’t give up. There were other ways to find out if Sam had been with a friend that night.

Images of the Best Life commune sprang to Hawthorne’s mind. Made him want to shudder.

He’d really hoped this investigation for Rebekah wouldn’t require him to go back there. He’d promised himself he would never go back. And that was a promise he still wanted to keep.

But who better than his family to know if Sam was alone or with a friend?

Rebekah had said Sam’s mom still lived at Best Life, or at least she had when Rebekah left a year ago.

The police must have already asked Sam’s mom that question, though. If she knew then that he’d gone with someone, she would have told the detectives. He couldn’t see her hiding that information when the case involved her own son’s death.

So Hawthorne probably didn’t need to go and talk to her. He couldn’t get in anyway. He’d been banned from Best Life since the moment he’d left.

He peeled off the narrow path and joined the wider one to walk the remaining distance to the Safety Center. He gladly abandoned thoughts of the cult to focus on his other mission. Hopefully, Butch would give him permission to view the security footage of the Skyride.

Or maybe Ted Renneth was the supervisor tonight. Either way, he didn’t think they’d object to someone willing to spend hours reviewing the security footage leading up to the explosion that had killed their General Manager.

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