“So, Jaine,” Hal said, consulting my file. “I see that you’re interested in having liposuction on your thighs.”

“That’s right.”

“Well, I must say, you’re a perfect candidate for the procedure.”

“Oh?”

“You know how this town is. I get women in here all the time with not enough fat on their thighs to butter a piece of bread. And still, they want liposuction. It’s ridiculous. But someone like you, that’s a whole other story.”

Well, thanks heaps. What a thrill to learn my thighs were gargantuan enough to qualify for surgery.

“Of course, there are some risks, as there are with all surgeries—”

But before he could tell me what they were, his intercom buzzed. Denise came on the line with a mini-emergency. Apparently the beat-up looking dame in the waiting room had popped a stitch in her eye job.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, hurrying out of the office.

“Take your time,” I said.

And I meant it. What a great opportunity to snoop. When I was sure he was gone, I made a bee-line for the door in the paneling. I had to see where it led. I was just about to open it, when it suddenly occurred to me: What if it led to one of Hal’s consultation rooms? What if I opened the door, and found a naked lady scratching her tummy tuck?

I took my chances and turned the knob.

No naked ladies, thank goodness. The door led to an outside corridor, right across from a stairwell.

Very interesting. Hal said he was at his office the morning SueEllen was killed. But he could’ve sneaked out the back door and down the stairwell without being seen by anyone. Each of his patients would think he was tied up with another patient. Maybe Denise had been in on it with him. Maybe she lied to the cops, telling them he was in the office, when she knew darn well he was speeding across town to keep a date with a lethal hair dryer.

Of course, Hal couldn’t have been the blonde that Heidi saw in the hallway. But maybe the blonde wasn’t the killer. Maybe the blonde was an innocent visitor, and the killer was a dark-haired plastic surgeon.

Or maybe it was Denise who sneaked out Hal’s back door and down the steps. I saw the way she looked at Hal. She was crazy about him. Perhaps even crazy enough to kill for him.

I shut the door behind me and turned my attention to Hal’s antique desk. Did I dare peek in the drawers? After all, he could come back any minute. Oh, what the heck. I went for it. With my eyes constantly darting to the door, I started opening the drawers. Aside from a box of condoms in the bottom drawer, there wasn’t much of interest.

And then I saw it, right there on his desk, for all the world to see (if all the world happened to be snooping in his office). A bill from his attorney. For a two-hour consultation, at a staggering $500 an hour. But that wasn’t the part I was interested in. No, what held my attention was a yellow Post-it, in the upper right hand corner, with a handwritten note: I told you when you married her—you should’ve made her sign a pre-nup.