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frail woman, not the big wide woman who got hired on as the cook twenty years later. Rebecca likely tossed in a change of hair color and style, along with different makeup. You must have known Rebecca, at least casually, and you’re a trained law enforcement officer, not a self-absorbed youngster, and you didn’t see the resemblance.”
    I also told Sheriff Tallon about PQ’s ex-wife going to Brazil, coming back and then spending years in a mental hospital. He knew about Brazil, but not the rubber room.
    I picked up the glass Gretchen had given me, with my fingers near the bottom, and walked into PQ’s bathroom where I poured the water into the sink.
    “Gretchen gave me this, Sheriff. She held it near the top. I believe you’ll find her prints will match those of PQ’s ex-wife Rebecca.”
    “At best, that might prove Rebecca and Gretchen are the same woman. Now I ain’t sayin’ I buy that part of your story, but, even if it turns out true, it don’t leave the paddock when it comes to provin’ she did the shootin’.”
    “Gretchen said PQ never wanted more than one cup of tea.”
    The sheriff stayed quiet until he had finished checking the locks on the patio door and the windows in PQ’s bedroom. Then he said, “So?”
    “Gretchen had only been employed two weeks, and PQ spent a couple days of this week in Phoenix. That’s not enough time for her to be so certain he always wanted only one cup.”
    The sheriff scrunched up his nose, like he was sniffling or had picked up a foul odor; it was a silent gesture. Then his eyes narrowed and he looked at me hard. “Why in tarnation would PQ hire his looney ex-wife?”
    “She hated him enough to pull the trigger.”
    “This is screwy.” The leather squeaked when the sheriff leaned his hand on the butt of his holstered gun. “If he wanted her to plug him, why in the blazes did he hire you?”
    “In order to catch Rebecca in the act. He didn’t want her hanging around, identifying herself, and sucking up to the kids to get a chunk of his estate.”
    I showed the sheriff the Old Maid playing card bookmark and the underlined passage about Rebecca in the Du Maurier novel. “You don’t think that’s a coincidence do you, Sheriff? PQ underlined a passage about a fictional character with the same name as his ex-wife.” I also told the sheriff about PQ saying Rebecca would likely have become an old maid if he hadn’t married her. “That planted the connection in my mind to his using the Old Maid card to underline the book passage.”
    I motioned for Sheriff Tallon to follow me into the kitchen.
    “It’d sure be nice,” the sheriff said, “if I had a mite more than this here theory of yours. It’s fascinating, I give you that, and it’s just nutty enough to be true. But it just don’t prove a whole hell of a lot.”
    I pulled the sheriff’s pen from his white, plastic pocket protector and flipped back the lid of the teapot. “This pot stood open when I found it.” Then I showed him the tea bag in the trash.
    “My wife’s always making tea,” he said. “When she does, she uses two or three of them little tea sacks to make a pot full.”
    “Exactly, Sheriff.” I opened the microwave. He felt the damp paper towel. “PQ wanted only one cup and liked it hot. She used the microwave and the cup boiled over.”
    The sheriff picked up the teapot, looked inside and shook his head. “Maybe she made a pot for herself?”
    “Okay. But then where’s the tea bags she would have had to use? Like you said, you can’t make a pot of tea with a single tea bag.”
    “My wife, Penny, leaves ‘em laying on the saucer next to her cup.”
    I pointed to the door that connected to Gretchen’s room. “I checked. There’s no second cup in her room or in the dishwasher.” I pulled it open. “This here pot’s been emptied since washing the dinner dishes. Besides, to say it again, there’d be more than one tea bag in the trash. Let’s remember the timeline. She was