Murder by Mushroom Read Online Free PDF

your kitchen. A necessary step in the investigation, nothing more.” He folded his arms across his chest. “If you want to call a lawyer, you’re entitled. But we still need to examine your kitchen. If we need to get a search warrant, we will.”
    Her focus dropped to the surface of the table. If she didn’t give them permission to look in her kitchen right now, they would think she was hiding something. She would look guilty. And she had nothing to hide.
    “Fine.”
    Trooper Walsh reached into his bag and pulled out several large, plastic, zippered bags. She knew their purpose from watching CSI on television. The police used them to bag evidence at a crime scene.
    Her face flaming, Jackie rose from the table and led them into the kitchen. She stood silently, fingernails biting into her palms, and watched the young officer search through her cupboards. He confiscated her cutting board, her casserole dish, and every knife she owned. When he opened the refrigerator, her jaw tightened. Did they actually think they’d find poisonous mushrooms in there? She clenched her teeth as Walsh pawed through the contents and removed several plastic containers. Detective Conner’s direct stare made heat rise under her collar, but she did not look at him. He’d tricked her into thinking he was a nice man with that pleasant smile. She wasn’t going to fall for that again.
    When he finished cleaning out her kitchen, Trooper Walsh gave a slight nod to the detective and turned toward Jackie. “I think that’s about everything, Miss Hoffner. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”
    Inconvenience? Humiliation gave way to fury, which roiled inside her as she followed the pair to the front door, her lower lip caught firmly between her teeth to keep from spouting angry words. As he stepped through the doorway, Detective Conner turned and gave her that false friendly smile. He extracted a business card from his suit pocket and held it toward her.
    “If you’re planning any out-of-town trips in the near future, it might be a good idea to give me a call and let me know. Just in case we need to get in touch with you.”
    She really was a suspect? As though in slow motion, her hand reached out and took the card.
    “Thank you, Miss Hoffner. Have a nice day.”
    Trooper Walsh, his arms full of her dishes, gave a sympathetic nod before following the detective down the breezeway to the parking lot.
    Jackie closed the door behind them and sagged against it. Her fury drained as she looked down at the card in her hand. She was a suspected murderer. The police thought she had killed Mrs. Farmer with her spiral pasta casserole.
    Why hadn’t she taken potato chips to that potluck?

     
    Dennis Walsh popped the trunk on his cruiser and stowed the bags while Detective Conner slid into the passenger seat. That interview had been an education in interrogation. The way the detective handled the questioning was nothing short of brilliant. Sitting across the table from him, Dennis hadn’t believed how polite, how approachable, how nice the normally arrogant man had been, inviting confidences with his demeanor. Of course, at the end his true personality had emerged. That poor girl had really looked rattled. Just like most of the officers around the station looked whenever Detective Conner deigned to walk through with his usual biting commentary.
    But he was the best in the state, no doubt about it. That’s why Dennis had finagled this assignment. With any luck, Conner would recommend him for detective when they solved this case.
    One thing bothered him, though. That girl didn’t look like a killer. She looked like a…well, like an attractive young woman with an open book for a face. If Dennis was any judge of character—and he believed he was—Jackie Hoffner was no murderer.
    Slamming the car door and strapping his seat belt in one smooth motion, Dennis turned toward his passenger.
    “You don’t really believe she killed that old lady, do you?”
    Conner