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?Blake looked from me to Winsley and back, then he peered at DeStadler, who glowered at him.
?I drew near his seat to look down on him. “I should tell you, I found this pin in the hotel room where Candy Poole had been shot.”
?Norm rose from his chair slowly and looked at Winsley. “I’m sorry, Ms. Cunningham, but I didn’t know there’d be police—”
?“If you know anything, you’d better tell it now,” DeStadler growled.
?Norm nodded his head. “Ms. Cunningham brought me a picture and told me to make a pin just like it. I was up all night—”
?“Really?” I exulted and shot a look at Winsley.
?Norm continued, “I told her I could improve upon the design, but she wanted an exact copy.”
?“Very well,” Winsley groused and threw her hands up. “I had him make me another pin! There is no crime in that.”
?DeStadler stood and leaned over Winsley, towering over her. “So you want to tell me how this pin got into the room of the murdered girl?”
?“It’s all perfectly innocent!” Winsley disclosed. “I had asked Randall to supply me with the details of my accounts.”
?“Why?” DeStadler insisted.
?“My own tracking of the markets gave me reason to believe that Randall was cheating me. However, I also asked Mr. Kane to find out what he could about my finances—”
?“Why would you ask him?” DeStadler inquired.
?“He told me he had a hacker who could dig into Randall’s files—”
?I exchanged a look with Mark, who raised an eyebrow. Once again, the mysterious hacker was mentioned.
?DeStadler looked down at Winsley. “Do you know who this hacker is?”
?“No, Jon was very secretive. But he assured me that he would have the information I wanted by Friday, two days ago.”
?“Why didn’t you tell us about this?” DeStadler challenged.
?“At the time you interviewed me, detective, Mr. Kane was alive. However, I did tell you—and also told that annoying Ms. Homes—that I received a phone call on Wednesday night that Randall was giving his financial reports to Candy Poole.”
?“So,” I gloated, “Randall had planned to meet with Ms. Poole the night he was murdered!”
?DeStadler held up his hand to stop me. “Ms. Homes? I got this.” His eyes returned to Winsley. “Go on.”
?Winsley continued. “Well, Thursday morning I didn’t see Candy at the welcome booth, and I was eager to get Randall’s reports so I would be able to compare them to the ones I anticipated from Jon, so I borrowed the spare key from the welcome booth to check Ms. Poole’s room.”
?“This was before the body was reported?” DeStadler confirmed.
?“Yes. I let myself into Ms. Poole’s room, shut the door, and called to her. I had to fumble a bit for the light switch as the blinds were closed and the room was very dark. But when I turned the lights on…there she was, lying there.”
?“What did you do?” I put in, which got a stern look from DeStadler.
?“I am afraid I fell back in surprise and threw my hands up to catch myself on the dresser. I believe that’s when I knocked my cameo off. I went weak in the knees and had to lean against the dresser to catch my breath.”
?“Did you try to help her?” DeStadler interjected.
?“It was obvious that she was dead. So, I wiped any possible fingerprints from anything I touched and left as quickly as I could,” Winsley said. “It wasn’t until hours later that I realized my pin was missing.”
?“Wait a minute,” I pronounced. “You mean you came down and ran our panel, knowing that Candy was dead?”
?Winsley nodded. “It might seem cold-hearted, but I honestly didn’t know what to do. I mean, the girl had obviously been shot.”
