Bill reached out to pat her on the back. “You’d make a good detective, Hannah. Your dip in the Dumpster gave us the only real clue we’ve got.”

Rhonda Scharf, her plump middle-aged body encased in a baby-blue angora sweater that might have fit her thirty pounds ago, leaned forward over the glass-topped cosmetic counter at Lake Eden Neighborhood Pharmacy to stare at the smudge of pink lipstick on the white Styrofoam cup. Rhonda was wearing a scowl that turned down the corners of her heavily rouged lips, and her too-long, too-thick, too-black-to-be-real eyelashes fluttered in distaste. “That lipstick didn’t come from my counter. I wouldn’t be caught dead displaying a product like that!”

Bill pushed the bag closer. “Take another look, Rhonda. We need to make sure.”

“I did look.” Rhonda pushed the bag back to him. “I do all the ordering and I’ve never carried that brand or that color.”

“There’s no doubt in your mind, Rhonda?”

Rhonda shook her head, her coal-black hair swaying from side to side. The strands moved together, like they’d been dipped in glue, and Hannah suspected that Rhonda must get a massive employee’s discount on hairspray.

“See how it’s smeared?” Rhonda poked at the bag with the pointed tip of a long, manicured nail. “I don’t sell any lipstick that isn’t smudge-proof, and the lines I buy from don’t make garish shades like that.”

Hannah looked up from the color charts that Rhonda had handed her. Her grandmother had always said that you’d catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, and she was about to put that old maxim to the test. “We really need your help, Rhonda. You’re Lake Eden’s only cosmetic expert.”

“Then why did you go to CostMart? I know you did, Hannah. Cheryl Coombs called to tell me.”

“Of course we went there,” Hannah acknowledged. “We checked out every cosmetic counter in town. But we saved you for last because I told Bill you’d know more about lipstick than anyone else in town. Your makeup is always so perfect.”

Rhonda preened slightly, giving Bill a sidelong glance that was definitely flirtatious. Since Rhonda had to be pushing fifty and Bill hadn’t yet celebrated his thirtieth birthday, Hannah figured the gossip her mother had told her about Rhonda and the UPS driver might not be as ridiculous as she’d thought.

“I’ll help any way I can.” Rhonda simpered a bit, her violet-colored contacts trained on Bill. “What do you want to know?”

Hannah sighed, reminding herself again about flies and honey. “If you wanted to buy a lipstick like the one on the cup…and I know you wouldn’t, having such good taste and all…but if you did, where would you go to buy it?”

“Let me think about that.” Rhonda pursed her perfectly drawn lips. “No store in town would carry that lipstick, so I’d have to look elsewhere. Not that I would, of course.”

Hannah agreed quickly. “Of course not. We’re just pretending here, trying to get a feel for where the owner of this lipstick might have gone to buy it. You’re helping Bill with a very important investigation, Rhonda, and he really appreciates it.”