“Sure thing. If you’ve got any other shoppin’ to do, I’ll just hold this at the counter until you’re ready.” She wiped her thumb on her smock, smearing a dab of green paint. Her nametag read Anne.

I needed rollers, but they were next to the counter. I picked up a package and twisted it in my hands. “Nope, this’ll do it. The paint and rollers. I figured it was high time to redecorate my Momma’s room. God rest her soul.” I placed my hand on my chest. “After her murder and all, I just need a fresh start, ya know?”

In the process of prying the lid off the paint can, Anne stopped and blinked. “Wait. Was your momma murdered a couple of months ago?”

Pursing my lips, I nodded. “It’s a shockin’ thing, walking in and finding your momma’s dead body.” I paused. “I think that only someone who’s been through something like that understands how truly horrifying it is, ya know?”

Anne tsked. “We had something like that happen here.” She raised her eyebrows as she programmed the paint dispenser. “Our evening manager was murdered a little over a year ago. Right here in the store.”

My eyes widened. “Oh! I remember that. What in the world is happenin’ to Henryetta, Arkansas?”

“It’s goin’ to hell in a handbasket, I’ll tell ya that right now.”

“Did you work here when it happened?”

She shuddered. “I did, and I know what you mean about it being horrifying. I was scared to walk in the back storage room alone for months after that.”

I lowered my voice. “Is that where it happened? In the storage room? My momma’s was on the sofa in our living room. I found her sitting there like she was waitin’ for me to come home.”

She nodded and shuddered again, then jammed the paint can in the shaker machine.

“Did you get a lot of looky-loos? I had people peekin’ in my living room, trying to see the bloodstains.”

“Yes! It was horrible. There was this one guy who kept comin’ around. He’d buy a package of screws or a broom, but nothing big or nothing you’d expect. Finally, one day Manny, he works in tools, said something to the guy about how none of us could figure out what his home improvement project was because of all the odd things he was buyin’. That’s a game we do. We pay attention to the regulars and try to figure out what they’re up to. But we never saw him again after that.”

“That’s so weird.” Was that the bathroom murderer?

Narrowing her eyes, she leaned forward. “Tell me about it. But the really weird part was the murderer didn’t take the money in the safe.”

“What? Why not?”

“That right there is a mystery. But the night deposit hadn’t been made yet and the safe was wide open. Why, there was enough money to open a bank branch right here in the hardware store but less than a hundred dollars was taken.”

“Why in the world wouldn’t the murderer take all the money?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. But it makes me wonder about the real reason for the murder. It sure wasn’t a burglary.”

My jaw dropped. This was going so much better than I hoped for. “What do you mean?”

Anne looked around and leaned close to me. “Frank was havin’ some money troubles. And rumor had it he owed money to some not so nice people.”

“Did the police check into that?”

She snorted. “What? And do any more work than necessary? You know their reputation.”

Unfortunately, I knew only too well. Personally.

“Why’d he owe people money?”

“I have no idea. He was a nice guy and all but without a lick of sense, if you know what I mean.”

“Did they find the murderer?”

“It made big news. They claimed they did. How’d you miss it?”

“My Momma didn’t believe in watchin’ much TV.”

Anne pointed her finger in my face. “Every citizen of the United States needs to keep informed of current events. Otherwise those dadgummed militia fools, hidin’ out in the woods, will be takin’ over. And God help us all if that happens.”

Anne made a good point.

“I got cable a few weeks ago.”

She blinked, then nodded. “Are you a CNN or Fox News girl?”

“Uh,” I stammered, pretty certain this was a test. “CNN?”

She puckered her mouth and nodded, walking back to the paint machine. “Good girl.”

Whew. I didn’t want her to stop talking. “You don’t think they caught the murderer?”

Anne rolled her eyes as she took the paint can out of the shaker. “They claimed they did, although I never thought he did it.”

“Why not?”

She pried the lid open and dabbed a blue dot on the sticker. “Bruce is afraid of his own shadow. There’s no way he did it.”

“You know him?”

“Yeah, he’s my sister’s husband’s cousin’s nephew.”

Well there you had it. They were practically cousins.

“Sure, he’s got picked up for some petty stuff, but mostly for possession of pot and driving under the influence. A couple of shoplifting charges. Nothing big like killing someone. I don’t know if Bruce could even pick up a crowbar.”

I’d seen his spindly arms and had to agree.

She turned on a hair dryer and pointed it at the paint dot, killing any further conversation. I was pressing my luck being here at all. I sure as blazes wasn’t going to shout any more questions at her. Anne plunked the paint on the counter. “There you go. Anything else?”