Lemon Meringue Pie Murder (Hannah Swensen #4)(23)

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agree that Norman had the opportunity, but how about the means? I'm not even sure Norman owns a knife."

"He could have bought one. They've got all sorts of knives at Lake Eden Hardware. And since Norman has medical training, he would have known exactly how to stab Rhonda."

Hannah laughed. She couldn't help it. The thought of Norman as a mad killer wielding a knife he'd just purchased was ridiculous. "Norman's a dentist. If he'd used his medical knowledge to kill Rhonda, he would have shot her full of Xylocaine or something like that."

"You've got a point." Delores sighed deeply. "That's all right. I didn't really think Norman did it anyway. We'd better move on to someone else."

"Who?" '

"Rhonda's boyfriend. Couples always have a reason to kill each other, especially if it's a passionate relationship."

Hannah picked up her pen. She was still determined not to get involved, but the idea of a boyfriend had definite possibilities. "Okay, who is he?"

"I don't know."

That stopped Hannah cold for a moment. "But you think Rhonda had one?"

"All that flirting must have amounted to something. Rhonda tried to entice every man that walked into the drugstore."

Hannah nodded, glad that her mother hadn't gotten wind of Rhonda's flirtation with Bill. It had happened less than a year ago when Hannah and Bill had gone to Rhonda's cosmetic counter to ask her about a lipstick mark that had been part of the evidence in Bill's first murder case. All the while they'd asked questions, Rhonda had flirted with Bill outrageously. When Hannah had mentioned it later, Bill had brushed it off. He'd said that Rhonda always flirted with the guys and it didn't really mean anything.

"A flirt isn't necessarily any more than that," Hannah reminded her mother. "Rhonda might have run for the hills if a man had tried anything."

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Joanne Fluke

"Don't be silly, dear. I'm positive that Rhonda had a boyfriend."

"How do you know?"

"It's deductive reasoning. Bertie told me that Rhonda had a standing appointment to have her roots touched up. And a woman doesn't have her hair colored unless she's trying to look younger for a man."

"Really?" Hannah's eyes narrowed and she eyed her mother closely. At the time of her father's funeral, her mother's dark hair had been sprinkled with gray.

Delores noticed Hannah's expression and she colored slightly. "Of course there could be other reasons. Rhonda might have wanted to look good for her job. As a matter of fact, I have Bertie touch up my hair every month or so. It makes me look more professional."

"Right," Hannah said, accepting her mother's excuse at face value. There was no way she wanted to consider the possibility that her mother had a love life.

"I'm almost positive that Rhonda was involved with someone. There was just too much gossip and where there's smoke, there's fire. Everyone was talking about Rhonda and the UPS man a while back. Of course I didn't pay much attention to it. I don't approve of gossip."

Hannah did her best to keep a straight face. Delores had called her with the story about Rhonda and the UPS man the moment it had hit the telephone wires. "Do you want me to write down the UPS man?"

"Just put down a question mark. I'll know what it means."

Hannah made a big question mark and underlined it. "We only have one suspect and that's a question mark. Who else do you want to add?"

"I'm not sure. I'll call you later when I've had a chance to think about it." Delores slid off the stool and headed for the door. "You don't have to be anything except my sounding board, dear. Since you told Mike you wouldn't get involved, I'll solve Rhonda's murder all by myself."

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"Do you really think you can do it?" Hannah couldn't resist asking.

"Of course. I'm an intelligent woman and I love solving puzzles. I'll find out who killed Rhonda. Trust me."

Hannah stared at the door as it closed behind Delores. In her experience, only people who didn't know what they were doing said "trust me." Perhaps she was grossly underestimating her mother's crime-solving abilities, but Hannah had doubts about trusting the woman whose VCR had been flashing twelve a.m. for the past four years.

"I still can't believe she's dead," Lisa said, reaching into her purse and pulling out her car keys. It was already five-thirty and she'd stayed an extra half hour to help Hannah finish mixing up dough for the next morning. "Did you know it was Rhonda when you told me about it?"

"I suspected it was, but I didn't want to say until they made a positive identification."

"And you're still not going to investigate?"

Hannah shook her head. "Mike and Bill don't need me and I have things of my own to do."

"Well... if you change your mind, I'll take over the workload."

"Thanks, Lisa." Hannah flashed her a smile. "Now get out of here so you have time to change clothes before your date."

Once Lisa had left, Hannah rinsed off the things they'd used and stacked them in the industrial dishwasher. The brochure that had come with the dishwasher claimed that there was no need for pre-rinsing, but old habits died hard. She was about to pour in the detergent when there was a knock at the back door.