Candy Cane Murder (Hannah Swensen #9.5)(38)

While her cat licked rather daintily at the yogurt, oblivious to the fact that Hannah’s mother would have suffered a coronary event if she’d seen how her expensive gift was being used, Hannah paged through what she thought of as her murder book and jotted down the new facts she’d learned from Wayne’s ex-wife.

“Wayne had to walk around the side of the building,” she said, causing Moishe to look at up her in midlick. “There’s no other way to get to the parking lot. But Jenny swears he didn’t and that’s substantiated by Cyril Murphy, who also swears he didn’t see Wayne.”

Chin in hand, unaware that she was a modern, female, clothed version of Rodin’s The Thinker, Hannah went CANDY CANE MURDER

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through the possibilities. “There’s only one conclusion to reach. Even though I saw him go out that way, Wayne didn’t walk from the back door to the parking lot.”

Moishe looked up at her and purred, and Hannah interpreted that as approval for her logic. “Thanks. I know my conclusion is logical, but it doesn’t make sense. I followed the trail of candy canes that fell out of the hole in Wayne’s pocket and his body was only a few feet from the path. The way it stands now, I said goodbye to Wayne and he went out the back door in his Santa suit. He disappeared before he went around the side of the building and down the path to the parking lot, but he reappeared behind the snow bank, dead.

That’s impossible. Or if it’s not impossible, I can’t think of any scenario that could account for it.”

The phone rang, and Hannah almost cheered. It temporarily interrupted her frustration and she was smiling as she reached out to answer it. It was Norman and her smile grew wider.

“Hi, Norman. What’s new with you?”

“A lot. I just finished doing a little research. One of the plants Melinda showed us this afternoon has small pink blossoms that contain deadly poisonous stamens in the center.”

“Which plant was that?”

“Fresindodendrun Rhochlepeous, the giant variety. The dwarf is perfectly benign.”

“I don’t remember it.”

“No reason you should. It was just a plant with green leaves and small pink blossoms. The only reason I looked it up was that you said it was pretty, and Melinda gave kind of a funny smile.”

“But she must have shown us a hundred different plants.

How did you remember the name?”

“I didn’t. I took along my pocket recorder and … hold on. Cuddles is climbing the bookcase again and she’s stuck on The Republic.”

Hannah waited while Norman rescued Cuddles, the cat 132

Joanne Fluke

he’d recently adopted, and he was back on the line. “I didn’t know you read Plato.”

“One of my friends in Seattle gave me his complete works.

She thought it would expand my mind.”

Hannah gripped the phone a little tighter, wondering if the “friend” had been Beverly Thorndike, Norman’s former fiancée who was now a dentist in Seattle. But before she could even think about asking, which she wouldn’t have done in any case, Norman went on talking.

“The plant’s common name is Flower of the Shroud, and the symptoms of poisoning are virtually undetectable unless you already suspect it and know what to look for.”

“And you know what to look for?”

“I do now. It causes renal failure over a period of several weeks. The symptoms are swelling and a slight yellowing of the skin. She did it, Hannah. And when the poison didn’t work fast enough, she hit him over the head.”

“For the money?”

“Yes. It’s a powerful motive, Hannah.”

“But Melinda couldn’t have done it. You know that. You were with me when we talked to Pierre. He swears he was with her the whole time. And for proof, he said to just look at her roots and see if we could find any brown.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind. It’s a blonde-thing. Andrea explained it to me. Did you think he was lying?”

“No. I just wish I could ignore the facts and go with my gut instinct. I know Melinda had something to do with Wayne’s death. Everything about her is such a fake.”

Hannah couldn’t help but smile. That was exactly the way she felt about Melinda.

“Okay, so maybe Melinda’s in the clear,” Norman went on. “How about Cory? He seems devoted to her. I think Melinda could have talked him into killing Wayne.”

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“Maybe she could have, but he didn’t do it, either. Cory was with me when Wayne was killed.”

There was a long silence while Norman thought that over.

And then he gave a long sigh. “Pretty handy, if you ask me!

They’ve both got motives and they’ve both got alibis.”

“I know. Hold on a minute and let me write down what you said about the poison.”

Hannah’s pen flew across the paper as she jotted notes. She only hoped that she could read them later. It was possible that Melinda had been poisoning Wayne with stamens from the plant that Norman had mentioned when his life had been ended, much more abruptly, by a blow to the head. If that were the case and Doc Knight collaborated that Wayne’s liver was enlarged, Melinda could be charged with attempted murder.