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The change in topic appeared to disorient her. “What do you mean?”
“You never told me you knew them in high school.”
“I didn’t know them.”
“But you did know Tom Garvey was actually Greg Knudsen.”
“So?”
“You knew they were responsible for the accident that scarred your face.”
Rhonda’s expression grew hard. “What about it?”
She didn’t deny anything. That worried me.
“So why would you work with two people who did that to you?”
“I needed a job.”
“You expect me to believe it was a complete coincidence, your taking that particular job?”
Rhonda leaned against the car and crossed her arms. “Why should I care what you believe?”
“You also knew who Barbara was, and why she was arguing with Bruce.”
Thunder rumbled like distant tympani. Rhonda stared at me with an intense expression that belied her casual pose.
“Did you tell her Greg was back in town?” I said.
No response.
“Did you steal the money?”
Nothing.
“If they were using the club’s accounts to hide the money they stole, you would have known it. You had access to the records.”
Rhonda glanced at her fingernails as if bored. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“If you had access to the files, you must have put them in the office after you killed Bruce.”
“Bruce killed himself.”
“I don’t believe it. Those files weren’t there before.”
“How do you know?”
“I
just know.”
“How will you prove it?”
I didn’t say anything.
She smiled. “You see. You have nothing.”
“The police will figure out soon enough that Bruce didn’t kill himself.”
