“What do you mean?"

“Just that there's a second door to that storeroom. Somebody could have pushed over the rack, dodged out the door, come back in another door and acted surprised with the rest of the mob."

“But I thought I heard voices outside. Did anyone see someone come out the door?”

Mel shook his head. "Nope. But the door leads to a covered passage where they store trash containers."

“Oh, right. The trellis thing with the honeysuckle growing on it. I remember seeing that. And there are two doors opening onto it?"

“Right. One from the storeroom and one opening onto the kitchen. You could go out one and in the other without being noticed unless you crashed into the trash and drew attention to yourself."

“Mrs. Jeffry?" a voice called shrilly.

“Oops, I have to get back to work," Janesaid, getting up hurriedly. "Mel, you're not going to poop out on chaperoning with me tonight, are you?"

“Nope, I'll probably fall asleep standing up, but I'll be here.”

"Shelley, the police aren't getting anywhere," Jane told her an hour later. Jane was folding a pile of table napkins as Shelley finished ironing each one.

“Come on, Jane. He was just grousing to you about his job. And he's not the entire police force. You have no idea what else they know that Mel's got no reason to tell you about."

“Like what?"

“Like fingerprints on the rack for example. Maybe they, already know who did it and Mel is just trying to get additional information to enhance their case, not prove anything. Hey, you're supposed to fold them, not wad them up."

“Hmm, I didn't think to ask him about fingerprints. But I can't believe he'd be acting so discouraged if that were the case." She meticulously refolded the napkin and held it up for Shelley's inspection.

“Better. Look, Jane. Suppose for some reason you had to interview everybody at the grade school graduation and find out where everyone was for every minute. Can you think of anything more tedious and boring?"