He nodded, taking notes as I talked. I bet he dotted every damn one of his i’s.

“I don’t think anybody in the club really liked Marybeth,” I said. “Except for Rochelle. Until she found out about Marybeth’s affair with her husband. Then, of course, she got angry. But really, Lieutenant, I can’t believe Rochelle is capable of murder.”

Clemmons looked up from his notes.

“Why don’t you let us be the judge of that, Ms. Austen?” he said, plunging his pencil into his sharpener. For crying out loud, he’d been writing for all of thirty seconds; it couldn’t possibly have needed sharpening.

“Can you think of anyone else in the club who might have had a motive to kill Marybeth?”

I hesitated to get Colin in trouble with the police, but I felt like I had no alternative. I told him how angry Colin had been at Marybeth for passing him over for a promotion.

“He said he wanted to kill her. It’s hard to believe he really meant it. But he was at Rochelle’s house a full half-hour before the rest of us got there. I can’t help wondering if he had time to sneak down to the kitchen when Rochelle wasn’t around and add the peanut oil to the guacamole.”

Once again, Clemmons looked up sharply from his notes.

“How did you know about the peanut oil?”

“I saw one of the police officers show you the bottle. And I figured it out.”

Clemmons scowled. He clearly didn’t like me figuring things out.

“What about the others? Did you see anyone go into the kitchen alone that night?”

“No, we were all wandering around, looking at Rochelle’s new bathroom. It was hard to keep track of who went where. I suppose any of them could have slipped into the kitchen. Except Pam Kenton, of course. She and I were together the whole evening.”

Clemmons smiled a smile that oozed cynicism.

“Oh? How convenient for both of you.”

Damn. Pam was right. He thought we were covering for each other.

“I can assure you, Lieutenant, neither of us went anywhere near that guacamole.”

“Right,” he said, snapping his steno pad shut. “Thank you for your time, Ms. Austen. I’ve got all I need to know. For now, anyway. Please notify us if you plan to leave town.”

Ouch. I didn’t like the sound of that.

“You know the way out.”

I got up to go. I would’ve given anything to reach over and mess the papers in his In Box, but you know what a wuss I am. Instead, I used my purse to push his stapler an inch out of place.

It wasn’t much, but it made me feel better.