Strawberry Shortcake Murder

by Joanne Fluke

  “I did?” Lisa sounded surprised. “I never could have done it if you hadn’t asked me to help you dish up. Once I started working, I forgot to be so nervous.”

  “Was your dad watching at home?” Hannah picked up one of the boxes.

  Lisa nodded, hefting the other and following Hannah toward the wings. “Mr. Drevlow came over to sit with him. I really hope he taped it for me. I didn’t know that I was going to be on television!”

  The stage manager was waiting for them, and he heard Lisa’s comment. “Better tell him to stick in a tape for tomorrow night, too. I just got a call from the booth. Mason wants you to help Hannah on camera until the bake-off is over.”

  “Me?” Lisa’s voice squeaked slightly, she was so excited. “Wait until I tell Dad! He’s going to be so excited, I’ll have to put on The Sound of Music to get him to sleep.”

  The stage manager looked puzzled, but Hannah knew exactly what Lisa meant. Lisa had told her that The Sound of Music was like a bedtime story to her dad. Julie Andrews’s voice had such a calming effect that Jack Herman never got past the first few scenes before he dozed off for the night.

  “It’s her voice,” Lisa did her best to explain. “It’s very soothing. And he’s seen it so many times, he already knows the story.”

  The stage manager looked a bit confused, so Hannah stepped in. “Everybody has a different trick to get to sleep. My dad used to listen to Wagner. I prefer to read a bad cookbook myself.”

  “A bad cookbook?”

  Hannah grinned as she nodded. “A good one makes my stomach growl, and then I really can’t get to sleep.”

  Hannah said good-bye to Lisa, who was bubbling over with excitement, and set out to search for Andrea. Tracey was drawing the name of the replacement judge for tonight, and Hannah walked down the hall toward the classroom that Mr. Purvis had designated as the makeup room. She found Andrea standing next to Bill, watching a hairstylist comb and spray Tracey’s hair.

  Andrea spotted Hannah in the doorway and turned to Bill. “I need to talk to Hannah about the new listing I got this afternoon. Can you bring Tracey to the stage when she’s ready?”

  “Go ahead, honey,” Bill agreed. “We’ll join you just as soon as Tracey’s finished here.”

  “What new listing?” Hannah asked, the moment they’d found a private spot in the wings. “I thought you were going to pass out calendars in Danielle’s neighborhood.”

  “I did. That’s where I got the listing. Mrs. Adamczak’s cousin is selling his place. She got him on the phone, and I talked him into listing it with me. But that’s not important, Hannah. I got some new information for us.”

  Hannah started to smile. She could always count on Andrea. “What is it?”

  “You know Mrs. Kalick, don’t you? She’s the widow who lives at the end of Danielle’s block.”

  “I know her. What did she tell you?”

  “She said she was just getting ready for bed when she heard cars in the alley. She wasn’t sure about the time, but she knows it was between eight-thirty and ten. Her bathroom window faces the alley, and when she glanced out, she saw Boyd’s Grand Cherokee drive by. And there was another car following it.”

  “Good job, Andrea!” Hannah complimented her. “This could be really important. Did Mrs. Kalick recognize the second car?”

  “No. The streetlight’s at the other end of the block, and it was dark in the alley. But the moon was out and she noticed that the top of the car was light-colored. She said it was big, like a Cadillac or a Lincoln, but that’s not the exciting part. There was a third car, Hannah.”

  “There was?”

  “Yes. It drove up to the mouth of the alley, turned off its lights, and parked right there next to a big pine tree. All Mrs. Kalick could see was the bumper. There were just too many branches in the way.”

  “How long was it parked there?”

  “About fifteen minutes, time enough for Mrs. Kalick to soak her teeth and put night cream on her face. She said that when she looked out again, it was gone.”

  “Did she tell Bill and Mike about it?”

  Andrea shook her head. “She told them about the car that was following Boyd, but she didn’t mention the third one.”

  “Why not?”

  “She figured that it was Felicia Berger and her boyfriend. I guess this isn’t the first time they’ve parked under the pine tree with the lights out. Mrs. Kalick likes Felicia, and she didn’t want to get her in trouble with her parents. You know how strict the Bergers are, Hannah. They don’t approve of makeup or dancing, and they’d skin Felicia up one side and down the other if they found out that she had a boyfriend.”

  Hannah knew the Bergers, and they were the strictest parents in town. “This could be really important, Andrea, especially if the car didn’t belong to Felicia’s boyfriend. Did Mrs. Kalick tell you anything else?”

  “No, but Mr. Gessell did. He lives right next door to Danielle and thought he heard two men arguing in the alley. He was about to go out to see what was the matter when the voices stopped.”

  “What time was that?”

  “He didn’t know, but he said he’d just finished listening to the weather report on KCOW radio. I called the station and checked on it, Hannah. The weather report is on every night from eight fifty-five to nine.”

  “Good for you.” Hannah was impressed.

  “Your turn, Hannah.”

  “What?”

  “I said, it’s your turn. What did you find out about the scarf?”

  “Nothing much, but Claire got really nervous when I mentioned it. I told her I wanted to buy it, and she said it was gone, that it faded in the window and she had to send it back.”

  “But we know that’s not true,” Andrea pointed out. “Luanne saw it in Norman’s office. Do you suppose Claire had two scarves exactly the same?”

  “No. She said it was hand-embroidered and was one of a kind. She was telling the truth about that. I could tell. I even gave her a chance to change her story. I said that I knew she’d been busy with the Christmas rush, and I could understand if she forgot who bought it. But she looked me straight in the eye and swore that she didn’t sell it.”

  “So she lied when she said she returned it, but she told the truth when she said that no one bought it?”

  “That’s right. It just doesn’t make sense, Andrea. The only thing that I can think of is that Claire gave the scarf to someone and didn’t want me to know who it was.”

  “That’s really strange.” Andrea frowned slightly. “And it’s even stranger because Claire was so nervous about it. I think that scarf is important, Hannah. We have to find out who has it.”

  Hannah glanced around and saw Bill and Tracey coming toward them. “I know. We’ll talk about this later, Andrea. Here come Bill and Tracey.”

  “Right.” Andrea spotted them and gave a little wave. Then she turned back to Hannah. “You’d better dash over to makeup before the contest starts.”

  “I’ve already been there. They did my makeup before the news.”

  “Well, you need a touch-up,” Andrea informed her. “Your lipstick’s worn off, your face is shiny, and your hair’s all frizzy again.”

  “Thanks for telling me, Andrea.” Hannah tried to keep the sarcasm from her voice as she headed off to the makeup room. Andrea didn’t mean to be critical; she just wanted Hannah to look her best. But with two gorgeous sisters like Andrea and Michelle, and a mother who still looked great in a bikini, only her sense of humor kept Hannah from walking down the sidewalks of Lake Eden with a brown paper bag pulled over her head.

  Chapter Nine

  After Mr. Hart had congratulated the winner, an elderly woman who had baked a delicious poppy seed cake, Hannah turned to Edna Ferguson, the new substitute judge. “You did a wonderful job, Edna.”

  “Do you really think so?”

  “Yes.” Hannah smiled at her warmly. “I thought you handled that gingerbread problem very well.”

  Edna made a face. “I
really didn’t like it.”

  “I know, but you complimented the contestant on her brandy sauce.”

  “It was a good brandy sauce. It just didn’t taste right with the gingerbread, that’s all.”

  “That’s true.” Hannah frowned slightly, remembering the combination of ginger and brandy. “All the same, I thought you were very kind.”

  “I tried to be. After what happened last night, I figured the last thing we needed was another tactless judge on the panel. They haven’t arrested anyone yet, have they, Hannah?”

  “I don’t think so. I talked to Bill right before the contest, and I’m sure he would have said something.”

  “Well, I hope they catch him soon!” Edna shivered slightly. “Another murderer loose in Lake Eden! It just gives a body chills.”

  After she’d said good night to Edna, Hannah collected the boxes from her televised baking and stashed them in the back of her truck. As she drove toward her condo, where Norman had promised to meet her, she thought about what Edna had said. Perhaps Edna suspected that Boyd’s murder had something to do with the bake-off. It would explain why she’d been so careful about criticizing the contestants’ entries. But Hannah was convinced that the nasty comments Boyd had made as a judge had nothing to do with his violent demise. All of last night’s contestants had airtight alibis, and that meant Boyd had been killed for another reason.

  Hannah flicked her lights at a car that was weaving a little too close to the center line. It straightened out and she passed it. She was sure that the cars Mrs. Kalick had seen in the alley figured into the picture. So did the argument that Mr. Gessell had heard. The phone call Boyd had gotten on Tuesday was also an important part of the puzzle. Norman’s first patient, the mysterious lady who’d left the scarf, could have made it. Hannah intended to ply Norman with cookies tonight and find out exactly who she was.

  Hannah opened the door with a smile. For some strange reason, she was really glad to see Norman, and it wasn’t only because she was planning to pump him for information about his mystery patient. Norman wasn’t the kind of man to give a woman palpitations. To say his hairline was receding would be a kindness, and he was a little plump around the waist. But Hannah knew she could use a dose of his humor after the exhausting day she’d spent, and Norman was a very good friend. “Hi, Norman. I’m really glad you came over.”

  “You are?” Norman seemed both surprised and pleased at the warmth of her greeting. “Before I forget, you were great tonight, Hannah. And you were pretty, too. That dress made your hair look like copper.”

  “Thanks, Norman.” Hannah decided not to make a crack about copper and how it turned green. It was obvious that Norman had paid her a sincere compliment, and she didn’t want to spoil it. “Come on in. It’s cold out there and I’ve got my fake fireplace on.”

  “Rrrrow!” Moishe also greeted Norman warmly, practically tripping him as he came in the door.

  “Hi, big guy. Just a second.” Norman slipped out of his coat, draped it over the chair by the door, and leaned down to pick up Moishe. “Have you terrorized any Chihuahuas lately?”

  Moishe started to purr so loudly, Hannah could hear it all the way across the room. He didn’t even object when Norman carried him belly-up in his arms, an action that would have earned anyone else several deep and painful scratches.

  “Would you like some wine, Norman? I’ve got a bottle open.” Hannah winced slightly as she remembered that all she had was the green gallon jug of Chateau Screwtop she’d bought at CostMart.

  “No thanks. I’ll just take a diet soft drink, if you’ve got it. Or water, if you don’t.”

  Hannah grinned. Most Minnesotans didn’t use the phrase, “soft drink.” Although Norman had grown up in Minnesota, he’d lived in Seattle long enough to pick up that expression.

  “What did I say to make you grin?” Norman asked.

  “Soft drink. Everybody in Lake Eden calls it pop. You’re in luck, Norman. I just stocked up for the holidays and I’ve got Coke, Diet Coke, root beer, red cream soda, or 7-Up.”

  “Red cream soda?” Norman started to smile. “I haven’t had that since I was a kid. Where did you find it?”

  “CostMart. I bought all they had left. The manager told me they got a partial shipment from some bottling plant in the South. It’s not diet, though.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll take one anyway.”

  Hannah was smiling as she went into the kitchen to get Norman’s drink. She’d wanted to buy him a small Christmas present, and a case of red cream soda would be perfect. She flipped the cap from the soft drink that looked like strawberry soda but wasn’t and poured it out into one of her best glasses. After she’d filled her wineglass from the green jug that was labeled “White Table Wine,” she carried both drinks out to the living room.

  Norman was sitting on the couch holding Moishe. Hannah’s pet was still purring and had a blissful expression on his face. Moishe liked Mike, but he adored Norman. As she settled herself on the other end of the couch, Hannah wondered if her pet knew something that she didn’t know.

  “Have an Oatmeal Raisin Crisp.” Hannah gestured toward the napkin-lined basket she’d set out on the coffee table, filled with some of her “safe” cookies. Moishe didn’t like raisins, and that made them cat-proof.

  “Thanks.” Norman reached for a cookie and took a bite. “These are my favorites.”

  Hannah laughed. “That’s what you said about the Chocolate Chip Crunches. They can’t all be your favorites.”

  “Yes, they can. Your cookies are so good that whatever I’m eating is my favorite at the time.” Norman stopped and frowned. “Did that make sense?”

  “It did to me,” Hannah said with a grin. It always made her feel good when someone complimented her on her cookies.

  “I like your fireplace,” Norman commented. “It looks almost real.”

  “I like it, too. It provides a lot of heat, and I never have to lay in a supply of firewood. Andrea and Bill have a real one, and he always worries if the fire’s still burning when they go up to bed.”

  “That’s why I want a fireplace in the bedroom. You could put on a couple of logs before you went to bed and it would keep the room nice and warm. It’d be romantic, too.”

  Hannah had always thought a fireplace in the bedroom would be romantic, but she’d never heard anyone else say so before. “You’re right, Norman. I don’t know why more people don’t have them.”

  “I guess it’s because most people don’t design their own houses. They buy a house that already exists, or they hire an architect who designs the whole thing. Maybe I should get one of those architectural programs for my computer and try my hand at designing the perfect house.”

  “That sounds like fun.”

  “If I get the program, would you like to help me? I don’t know anything about kitchens and things like that. I’d probably forget to leave room for the dishwasher or the oven.”

  “Ovens,” Hannah corrected him. “If you plan to do a lot of entertaining, you’ll need two. A Thanksgiving turkey fills the whole oven. You need a second oven for the side dishes.”

  Norman laughed. “See what I mean? I never would have thought of that. It’s pretty obvious I need you, Hannah. We’ll work on it together and design our dream house.”

  Hannah began to feel uncomfortable. Designing a dream house with a man she’d only dated three times was pretty serious stuff.

  “If it turns out all right, we can enter our plans in the dream house contest they’re running at the Minneapolis paper. First prize is five thousand dollars, and we can split it. How about it, Hannah? Do you want to take a crack at it?”

  “Sure.” Hannah smiled in relief. Norman wasn’t proposing anything more than entering a contest, and that would be fun. “You get the program, and I’ll think about the perfect kitchen.”

  They were silent for a moment, watching the flames dance up from the holes in the gas log. It wasn’t romantic, but it was cozy. Hannah was reluctant to br
eak the mood by asking Norman about his patient, but she had to find out who’d left that scarf in his office.

  “Norman?”

  “Yes, Hannah?”

  “I’d rather just sit here watching the fire with you, but I need to ask you a question.”

  “Okay. What is it?”

  “It’s about your first patient on Tuesday morning, not Luanne Hanks, but the one you didn’t write down in your appointment book. Who was she?”

  Norman sighed. “I was hoping you wouldn’t find out about that. Do you really need to know, Hannah? Or are you just curious?”

  “I really need to know. Maybe I don’t need to know her name, but I have to find out if you pulled any of her teeth.”

  Norman looked puzzled. “Why do you have to know that?”

  “Because a woman called Boyd Watson at noon on Tuesday and was slurring her words. It really upset him, and it might have something to do with why he was killed. Andrea and I think she might have come from your office with a mouthful of cotton wadding.”

  Norman sighed again, and Hannah could tell that he was reluctant to answer. It took him a minute, but then he said, “Okay, Hannah. I extracted two teeth in the upper right quadrant. When she left my office at seven forty-five, I told her to keep the packing in until one.”

  “Was she slurring her words?”

  “Yes.”

  Hannah took a deep breath. “Then I really need to know who she is, Norman. She’s got to be the woman who called Boyd.”

  “It was Lucy Richards.”

  “Lucy? Why didn’t you write down her name?”

  “Because I’m doing her caps off the books. It’s a favor for a favor.”

  Norman looked extremely ill at ease, and Hannah knew that there was a lot he wasn’t telling her. Was Delores right about Lucy and Norman? Was he doing a favor for the woman he favored?

  “There’s nothing wrong with that, Norman.” Hannah smiled in an attempt to put him at ease. “I know it’s none of my business, but are you…uh…attracted to Lucy?”