Murder by Mushroom by Virginia Smith Page B

third…She gasped. A knife! A small one, like a kitchen knife. They’d found a knife in the backyard! Or maybe in the thick woods behind the yard?
    “Got what we need, Detective,” one of the men told Conner as they brushed by Jackie. “We’ll run these over to Frankfort today. The lab boys should be able to ID the trace material on the knife. The rubber gloves look clean, though.”
    Rubber gloves!
    “I want the photos on my desk in an hour,” the detective responded. He gave Jackie one more direct stare, then retreated into the house and closed the door behind him.
    As the two plainclothesmen pulled away in the van, Jackie walked toward Trooper Walsh. She gestured with her head toward the closed door.
    “Is he always so condescending?”
    The young man shrugged a shoulder. “He’s the best.”
    “He’d have to be, to get away with that attitude.” Jackie studied him. Maybe without Detective Conner around to commandeer the conversation, she could actually get this guy talking. “So you found a knife, huh?”
    His eyes slid toward the house before returning to her. “I don’t think the detective would appreciate me talking to you about the case.”
    Jackie scuffed a toe in the packed dirt. Flirting had never worked out well for her, so she hesitated trying it now. But how could she get him talking?
    “He wouldn’t have to know,” she suggested. “And besides, I already saw the knife. I’m just trying to figure out whether or not the killer intended to use it if the mushrooms didn’t work.”
    No answer except a slight shake of his head.
    “Don’t tell me there’s another victim. You didn’t find that knife in a body out back, did you?”
    His eyebrows rose. “That’s quite an imagination you’ve got there, Miss Hoffner.”
    She waved a hand. “Call me Jackie.”
    “Jackie.”
    Her name, spoken in his low voice, sent a delicious shiver coursing through her.
    Okay, so maybe a little flirting wouldn’t hurt.
    “Tell you what, Trooper—”
    “Dennis.” His lips twitched into a sideways grin that made her mouth go dry.
    “Tell you what, Dennis. If you tell me what you found in the backyard, I’ll promise to tell you if I find any hard evidence. Not just rumors, but actual clues.”
    “You’ve heard rumors?” He stood straighter. “Anything we should know about?”
    “I don’t know.” Jackie looked pointedly toward the backyard. “Maybe.”
    “You know I can’t talk to you about the case.” His grin teased her, almost as if he knew what he was doing to her stomach.
    A glance down the driveway, toward the back of the house, showed her the deep wooded area behind Mrs. Farmer’s backyard. Thickets of scrub bushes and trees grew freely between the house and the neighbors, providing plenty of cover for someone sneaking into the backyard from those woods. And mushrooms grew in woods, right?
    She cocked her head and looked up at him disarmingly. “So that paper plate I saw, was it lying near the knife?”
    Watching him carefully, she saw the grin melt a tiny bit.
    “Like maybe someone had been using them both,” she went on. “Maybe slicing mushrooms, while wearing rubber gloves?”
    Aha. Now the grin faded completely and his focus slid toward the house. She was on the right trail.
    “You know,” she said, trying to hide her growing excitement, “you can lift fingerprints from the inside of the gloves. I saw it on CSI .”
    The crooked grin returned. “We know.”
    “But this proves that no one at the church could have done it. At least not at the potluck.” She thought of Julie McCoy, who had dished up the leftover portions of the casserole. “The killer chopped the mushrooms in the backyard, or maybe even in the woods, and then slipped into the house to plant them in the leftovers.”
    No bites on that fishing expedition. Crossing his arms, he pursed his lips and gave her a stern look. “I want to talk about those rumors. If you discover something relevant to the case, you