Triple Chocolate Cheesecake Murder

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Triple Chocolate Cheesecake Murder Page 6

by Joanne Fluke


  Andrea drew her cell phone from her pocket. Her fingers were shaking and it dropped to the rug. Slowly she bent and picked it up. She should call someone, but who?

  Bill. She should call Bill. Bill was the sheriff. He would know what she should do. She stared at the phone for a moment, but her mind was blank and for some strange reason, she couldn’t remember the number of the sheriff’s station.

  Hannah. She would call Hannah. Hannah was close by, still at their mother’s penthouse. Hannah would know what she should do.

  Chapter Six

  “Are you okay, Andrea?” Hannah asked, escorting her sister to the penthouse garden.

  “I’m a lot better now,” Andrea said, giving Hannah a shaky smile. “I don’t know what happened to me back there, Hannah. It was like I was living it all over again and it was really frightening.” She slipped her arm around Hannah’s waist and gave her a hug. “You have no idea how much you helped me, Hannah. And . . .” Andrea paused and smiled again. “Maybe this will sound crazy, but I think it did some good to talk about it again. I really do feel much calmer now.”

  “That’s good.” Hannah gestured toward the empty glass next to Bill. “I’ll get you another glass of champagne and refill Bill’s red wine.”

  “Are you sure that I can have another glass of champagne? Doc gave me a tranquilizer when he got to City Hall.”

  “I’m sure you can have another glass,” Hannah reassured her. “I spoke to Doc earlier and he said it was okay. Go sit next to your husband, Andrea. That’ll make you feel even better.”

  “You’re right. It will.”

  Hannah had just delivered Andrea’s glass of champagne and Bill’s red wine when Delores’s cell phone rang. The ringtone was “Love Me Tender,” the Elvis song that the Las Vegas wedding chapel had played at their wedding. Hannah recognized it immediately and she turned to her mother.

  “Better get that,” she told her mother. “It’s Doc calling from the hospital.”

  “You’re right. It’s Doc,” Delores said, glancing down at the display and then standing up from her chair. “Excuse me for a minute please,” she said to her guests. “I have to get this.”

  Delores moved over to the far end of the pool, where she could take the call privately. That was when Mike and Lonnie joined the group, and everyone struggled to find a topic of conversation that didn’t involve Mayor Bascomb’s death. It was tough going. What Michelle, Norman, and Bill really wanted to know was what Andrea had said in her interview. Mike and Lonnie were both drinking coffee, and Hannah knew better than to ask them if they wanted anything alcoholic to drink. They were on duty until they got Doc’s autopsy report.

  Delores’s cell phone conversation was short. When she came back to her chair in the garden, she sighed deeply and turned to Bill. “Doc said to tell you that it was definitely a homicide. And since Vonnie came back in to type up the autopsy report, Doc’s going to drop it off at the sheriff’s station on his way home.”

  “Your case,” Bill said, turning to Mike and Lonnie.

  “We got it,” Mike said, pulling his phone out of his pocket and checking the display. “Drink up, Lonnie,” he said, slipping the phone back into his pocket and gulping the rest of his coffee. “Doc just texted me. He dropped off his report at the sheriff’s station, and then he’s on his way to see Mrs. Bascomb. He wants us to meet him there.”

  “Right,” Lonnie agreed, then he turned towards Michelle. “Can you drive my car back to the condo, Shelly? I’ll probably be another couple of hours and then Mike can drop me off there.”

  “No problem,” Michelle told him. “I’ve got a couple of lesson plans to write up tonight, but I’ll see you when you get there.”

  “I’ll walk you out,” Hannah said quickly, rising so that she could follow Mike and Lonnie as they left the garden.

  When they got to the door, Hannah put her hand on Mike’s arm to stop him. “Did you say that you’re going to talk to Stephanie Bascomb tonight?”

  “That’s where we’re heading.”

  “I don’t suppose there’s any way I can go with you?”

  Mike shook his head. “Not this time, Hannah. I broke the rules letting you sit in on Andrea’s interview. I can’t do that a second time.”

  “That’s okay. I didn’t think you’d let me go, but I had to ask. But please, when you see Stephanie to tell her about her husband, give her our condolences.”

  “I will,” Mike promised, reaching out to pat her shoulder. “I’ve got to go, Hannah. I’ll see you as soon as I can.”

  When Hannah went back to the garden, there were tears in her eyes. Stephanie had been very upset with her husband, but the news that he’d been murdered would be devastating to her. Unless, of course, Stephanie already knew about her husband’s death because she was the one who’d murdered him!

  * * *

  Michelle stayed for a few minutes and then she got up to go. “I’d better get started on those lesson plans,” she said. “You’ll be all right, won’t you, Mother?”

  “I’ll be fine, dear.” She turned to look at Hannah. “And you and Norman will stay until Doc gets back, won’t you?”

  “Of course we will,” Norman said quickly. “I’ll walk down to the garage with you, Michelle.”

  Michelle smiled at him. “Thanks, Norman. I’d really appreciate that. Sometimes, when it’s cold like this, Lonnie’s car doesn’t want to start. And even though he’s told me what to do, I always forget and flood the carburetor by trying too many times.”

  “I’ll start it for you,” Norman offered, and then he turned to Hannah. “I’ll be right back.”

  Delores and Hannah sat there in silence until Norman and Michelle had left. Then Delores turned to Hannah. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “I think I probably am,” Hannah admitted. “You mean what Stephanie said this afternoon?”

  “Yes, she was furious with Ricky Ticky for what he did to Bill, and she was even more furious about the way he’d treated Andrea.”

  Hannah nodded agreement. “You’re right. She was practically steaming when Andrea told her what he said.”

  “Yes, she was. I just can’t help but wonder if Stephanie couldn’t wait to confront him.”

  “Do you think she might have gone up to his office?”

  “I don’t know. If she did . . .” Delores stopped speaking and swallowed hard. Then she cleared her throat and blurted out, “What if Stephanie got so furious with him that she . . . she . . .”

  “Killed him?” Hannah finished the thought that her mother was having trouble voicing.

  “Yes!” Delores clasped her hands tightly together in her lap. “I don’t want to be thinking like this, but Stephanie’s got a temper. And . . . I’ve never seen her this angry before.”

  “Neither have I,” Hannah told her.

  “You two look very serious,” Norman said, coming back into the garden.

  “We were talking about how angry Stephanie was over the way the mayor treated Andrea,” Hannah answered.

  “Yes,” Delores said, “and we were wondering if it’s possible that Stephanie . . .”

  “Of course it’s possible,” Norman interrupted. “After all, ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.’ ”

  All three of them sat there thinking about Stephanie and what could have happened if she’d gone to her husband’s office. Finally, after several minutes, Delores sighed deeply. “I don’t want to think about this anymore tonight.”

  “Neither do I,” Hannah agreed, turning to Norman. “Tell Mother about your butterfly garden, Norman. I’ll go check the dishwasher and put on another pot of coffee. Doc is bound to want some when he gets back here.”

  Norman gave her an approving smile, and Hannah knew he realized that she wanted him to distract Delores with a description of his butterfly garden. She hurried to the kitchen, put on more coffee, and was just about to return to the penthouse garden when she heard the front door open.

  “Hi, Doc,”
she greeted him when he walked into the kitchen. “I put on the coffee and it should be ready in a couple of minutes.”

  “Thanks, Hannah. How about that cheesecake? Did Mike find it?”

  “No, I hid it in the back of the shelf and I taped on a label that read, LIVER & ONIONS.”

  Doc laughed, catching on to her ploy immediately. “I take it that Mike hates liver and onions?”

  “Oh, yes. He told me that his mother used to make it every Thursday night because his dad was really fond of it. And Mike said that after he got his first job, he tried to work late so he wouldn’t have to go home for supper.”

  “Actually, there are a lot of people who don’t like organ meat.”

  Hannah gave a little shudder, even though she liked liver and onions. “I wish you hadn’t described it that way,” she told him. “I love liver, but I never think of it as organ meat.”

  “Most people who like it wouldn’t categorize it that way. To them, organ meat is heart, lungs, and gizzards when it comes to chicken and turkey. I wonder if Mike ever heard Braunschweiger called liverwurst?”

  Hannah laughed. “I’ll bet he hasn’t. If he had, Mike would never make his Busy Day Pate again.”

  “You’re right, and that would be a real shame. It’s one of my favorite appetizers.” Doc walked over to the refrigerator and got out the leftover cheesecake. “I’d better let you cut this, Hannah. If I cut it, I’ll give myself a piece that’s too big, and I’d like to save some for breakfast tomorrow.”

  “Is that healthy eating, Doc?” Hannah teased him.

  “No, but tomorrow is going to be a busy day. I have two operations in the morning and I’m scheduled for office visits all afternoon. I’m going to need something to give me energy.”

  Hannah laughed again. “That’s a great excuse, Doc.”

  “Thank you.” Doc accepted the dessert plate that Hannah handed him. “Do you think that coffee is ready yet?”

  “If it’s not, I’ll sneak out a cup for you while it’s still brewing,” Hannah promised, walking over to the coffeepot and doing just that. “Is Stephanie okay?” she asked him.

  “She is now. I told Mike and Lonnie that I had to give her a tranquilizer and they wouldn’t be able to interview her until morning.”

  “Did the tranquilizer work?”

  “Yes, they decided to go over to interview Terry Neilson instead.”

  “It’s a good thing Andrea didn’t hear you say that. Terry’s sure to tell them about Andrea’s meeting with Mayor Bascomb this afternoon, and what she says will implicate Andrea.” Hannah glanced down at Doc’s dessert plate and her eyebrows lifted in surprise. “You inhaled that cheesecake, Doc.”

  “That’s because it was so good. And it was also because I should have gone straight out to the garden to see your mother.”

  “It’s okay, Doc. Norman’s with her and he’s telling her all about his butterfly garden. She doesn’t even know you’re here yet.”

  “Good. Don’t mention the cheesecake you gave me, Hannah. And will you please rinse off my dessert plate before you join us? I might just want to have another piece of your incredible cheesecake tonight.” Doc gave a little chuckle. “Actually, I’m sure I’m going to want to have another piece tonight. You know how your mother is always watching my weight, and she’ll never approve if she knows that I’ve already had a slice.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Are you tired, Hannah?” Norman asked as he pulled into his driveway and stopped next to the front door.

  “Yes, and no.”

  “And that means?” Norman asked, getting out of the driver’s side and coming around to open the passenger door for her.

  “It means that I’m tired, but I don’t think I can sleep quite yet.”

  “Because you’re worried about Mayor Bascomb’s murder?”

  “That’s part of it. And I know that Terry Neilson will tell Mike and Lonnie all about Andrea’s altercation with Mayor Bascomb this afternoon. She doesn’t have an alibi, Norman. When Andrea found out that Bill wasn’t coming to Mother’s for dinner, she went home. The girls weren’t there. Grandma McCann took them out to the mall to have dinner and see a movie.”

  “And Andrea is the one who found Mayor Bascomb. I can see how that would be a problem, Hannah. We’re just going to have to work really hard to find her an alibi of some kind.”

  “Yes, or find out who really killed Mayor Bascomb. Then Andrea won’t need an alibi.”

  Norman unlocked the door and turned to Hannah before he opened it. “Do you want to catch Moishe, or should I?”

  “You can catch him,” Hannah answered quickly. “My arms are a little sore from all the baking I did this morning. You’d think I’d be used to it, but every once in a while, my arm muscles rebel.”

  “You must have opened a new bag of flour,” Norman guessed.

  “You’re right! I did! How did you know?”

  “Your arms are always sore when you open a new bag of flour, carry it out to the counter, and pour it into smaller containers that’ll fit on your shelves in the pantry.”

  “I didn’t realize that was why my arm muscles hurt,” Hannah told him. “How did you know to ask me?”

  “I knew because I always ask you what you did during the day and I noticed it happens every time you open a new bag of flour.”

  Hannah didn’t say anything. It was a bit disconcerting to think that Norman knew that much about her. Could he repeat every answer she’d given when he’d asked her a question? Did he, perhaps, know too much about her?

  “I made you uncomfortable, didn’t I,” Norman said, and it wasn’t a question.

  “A little,” Hannah admitted.

  “It’s not because I’m trying to intrude in your life, Hannah. It’s because I care so much about you that I remember the little things you tell me.”

  Hannah couldn’t help but feel relieved. For a moment, she’d felt as if she’d given every ounce of her personal privacy away. “That’s a good reason, Norman. I care a lot about you, too.”

  “I know you do. You always ask me about my day when I take my break at The Cookie Jar.”

  Hannah thought back to those breaks and realized that she had asked Norman about a lot of things he’d done at his dental clinic. “You’re right. I do want to know what you do every day when you’re not with me.”

  Norman was wearing a pleased smile when he grasped the doorknob. “Stand back, Hannah. I can hear the sound of thundering paws coming down the hall to the door.” Norman braced himself and pushed the door open. “Oof!” he said, as Hannah’s twenty-three pounds of cat hit his chest. “Hello, Moishe. Did you have a good day?”

  He cares about Moishe, too, Hannah’s rational mind told her.

  How can you tell? He always says that, her suspicious mind argued.

  Hannah ignored both facets of her mind and simply smiled as she picked up Norman’s cat, Cuddles. “Hello, guys. Let’s go in out of the cold.”

  The hallway led to the living room and after Hannah had closed and locked the door behind her, she carried Cuddles, who was barely one-third Moishe’s size, over to the living room sofa. She put Cuddles down on the back of the sofa and watched as Norman put Moishe down next to her. Then she opened the container that Norman kept on the coffee table, took out a handful of treats, and doled them out to the two cats.

  “Give me your parka and I’ll hang it up,” Norman told her. “Why don’t you go upstairs, change into your robe, and meet me downstairs in the den? I’ll start a fire in the fireplace and open a split of champagne for you. You didn’t drink the one glass you had with dinner, did you?”

  “No, I didn’t. Andrea called before I even had a sip. Thank you, Norman. That would be nice. I really do need to relax so that I can fall asleep. Right now my mind is going a million miles an hour!”

  Once she’d climbed up the stairs, Hannah opened the door to the master bedroom and took out her warmest pajamas and robe. As she changed, she thought of how nice it was to
stay in Norman’s house. He was always so thoughtful and he truly took wonderful care of her. She still felt guilty for taking over his master bedroom while he slept in the guest room, but it was so nice to be . . . she smiled as she thought of the word her mother would use to describe that feeling of being pampered. It was cosseted. That was a very old-fashioned word, but it described the way she felt perfectly. She was cosseted, and that was an incredibly wonderful feeling.

  Her moose hide slippers were under the edge of the bed and Hannah slipped them on her feet. Then she put on her robe, turned on the little lamp by the side of the bed, doused the rest of the lights, and left the room.

  “Oh, good!” Norman said when she entered the den downstairs. “I was about to open your champagne.”

  “Thank you, Norman,” Hannah said, smiling at him before she sat down on the leather couch in front of the fireplace. “It’s always so peaceful and cozy in here.”

  Norman smiled as he opened the split of champagne. “That’s exactly the feeling I wanted when I chose the furniture for this room. It’s a place where you can get away from a busy day and relax.”

  “Well, it’s perfect.” Hannah accepted the glass of champagne and took a small sip. Then she set it on the round, wooden table in front of the couch. “Where are the cats?”

  “They’re in the kitchen. I opened a can of salmon and put a little on top of the dry food in their bowls.”

  “Oh, goodie. Salmon breath!”

  “Would you rather I didn’t feed them salmon?” Norman asked immediately.

  “No, it’s okay. I was just kidding. If I didn’t like salmon, it might be a problem, but I do. Would you mind if I made Cinnamon Rolls with Raisins for breakfast tomorrow?”

  “I wouldn’t mind at all! But aren’t they a lot of work?”

  “Not really. I mixed up the dough before I left The Cookie Jar and shaped it into rolls. All I have to do in the morning is let it double in size and then I can bake it.”

  “That’s great by me! Do you need me to drive out to the Quick Stop to pick up anything?”

  Hannah shook her head. “No, I brought what I needed for the powdered sugar drizzle, and I’ll make that in the morning.”

 

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