by Joanne Fluke
Right, Hannah thought, but she didn’t say it. She’d find out what had really happened from Sophie tomorrow.
“I don’t know if that means anything, but we’ll add it to the mix,” Mike said. “And then there’s the set decorator.”
“What about him?” Hannah asked, seriously doubting that Jared would have had anything to do with Dean’s murder.
“One of the witnesses saw him close to the desk right before the first take.”
“That may or may not be important,” Hannah said, but she made a mental note to write it down in her shorthand notebook just as soon as she could. “Jared could have been rearranging something on the desk top.”
“Maybe, but it’s something I have to check out. And so far that’s about it. Nobody remembers, for sure, who went near the desk. It’s like you told me at Granny’s Attic. People didn’t pay any attention to the desk until the actors went over there.”
“Did you watch all the tapes? Maybe one of the cameramen caught someone fiddling with the desk drawer.”
“What tapes?”
Hannah stared at Mike in surprise. “I thought you knew. Dean taped all of his rehearsals.”
“Nobody told me!” Mike looked thoroughly astounded.
“That’s probably because they thought you knew. From what I heard, it was standard operating procedure. They taped it all, including the rehearsals where Dean played someone else’s part.”
“Thanks for telling me, Hannah,” Mike said, flipping open his notebook and jotting it down. “I’ll check with the head cameraman in the morning. Is there anything else you think I should know?”
Hannah shook her head. Mike looked very grateful for the information she’d given him and this was the time to ask her most important question. “How about the search at Granny’s Attic? Did you find the prop gun?”
“No.”
“But the killer couldn’t have taken it with him. They searched everyone, didn’t they?”
“Even Mayor Bascomb, and he wasn’t too happy about that.”
“I’ll bet he wasn’t!” Hannah said, giving an amused grin as she pictured their mayor, a man who was accustomed to giving the orders, being ordered to stand in line with everyone else to be searched by a sheriff’s deputy.
“So…either the prop gun’s still there and you haven’t found it yet, or the killer took it with him and left early, without sticking around to witness the result of his switch.”
“You’re right. And if the killer left early, he must have gone out the back way. Nobody came past me and I was standing right there by the front entrance waiting for my cue.” Mike stopped talking and his eyes narrowed. “It sounds to me like you’re thinking about investigating.”
“Absolutely not.”
“You promise?”
“You bet. I promise you that I won’t investigate.”
Mike was still staring at her and Hannah wondered if he smelled a rat. She’d told the truth the way she saw it, narrowly construed. He opened his mouth to ask another question, one Hannah hoped wouldn’t be too probing, when fate intervened in the form of Norman with her coat and her purse.
“Here you go, Hannah,” Norman said, handing over her parka coat and her shoulder purse. “Ross had to run back out to the inn. Somebody beeped him and he said it was important. He told me to tell you he’ll touch base with you later tonight or first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Okay,” Hannah said, pushing aside a little twinge of disappointment that Ross hadn’t come to tell her so himself.
“If you’re ready, I’ll load Moishe.”
“I’m ready,” Hannah said, standing up and letting Mike help her into her coat. The little nap she’d taken had done her a world of good. She wasn’t at all sleepy, but she certainly was ravenous and she could hardly wait to get home and make something to eat.
Twenty-five minutes later, as Hannah climbed the stairs to her condo, she sniffed the air. Unless she was hallucinating, someone was having Chinese food for dinner. She turned to Norman, who was right behind her, and asked, “What do you smell?”
“Chinese. Somebody’s having hot and sour soup, kung pao chicken, house special chow mein, pork fried rice, scallops with fresh mushroom, shrimp and snow peas, and one duck’s web plain, without the special soy sauce.”
There was a yowl from the cat in his arms and Norman laughed. “I think the Big Guy knows all about that last menu item.”
“He does. Whenever I order take-out Chinese, I always get one duck’s web without the special soy sauce for him. He loves to chew on it and chase it around on the kitchen floor.”
“So I heard. That’s why I ordered all that stuff, and asked your sisters to pick it up on their way here. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Mind?” Hannah’s stomach gave a mighty growl. “I don’t mind at all. You may have saved my life.”
“If you’re tired, we’ll leave,” Michelle offered, gathering up the white boxes that sat on Hannah’s big, round coffee table, closing the lids, and preparing to stash them in Hannah’s refrigerator.
“Actually…” Hannah paused to take stock of her mental state. “I’m not tired anymore. I think I got about twenty minutes’ sleep waiting for Mike to finish interviewing Ross, and it took the edge off.”
“Sometimes a twenty-minute nap is all you need,” Andrea said. “I read it in one of my parenting magazines.” She stopped and began to frown. “You’ve got to promise not to tell Tracey I said that. I have enough trouble getting her to bed at a reasonable hour as it is.”
You mean Mrs. McCann has trouble getting Tracey to bed, Hannah thought, but she remained silent. There was no way she’d take such a nasty shot at her sister.
“Of course now that Mrs. McCann is living in to take care of Bethany, I don’t have that problem,” Andrea went on, almost seeming to read Hannah’s mind. “Do you think I’m a bad mother for not staying home to take care of my daughters?”
“No!”
“Of course not.”
“Never.”
They all spoke at once, hotly denying that suggestion. All three of them knew that Andrea wasn’t cut out to be a stay-at-home mom. She was a consummate social being who needed the stimulation of other people to be happy and fulfilled.
“Good.” Andrea was smiling again as she opened the small white bag that sat in the center of the table and passed out fortune cookies. “Let’s all read our fortunes out loud. You go first, Michelle.”
Michelle broke her fortune cookie in half and drew out the folded strip of paper inside. “Aim for the stars to reach the moon.”
“That’s almost profound,” Norman said, cracking his cookie open. “Mine says, ‘Helping others is its own reward.’ How about you, Andrea?”
“True beauty is like the night.” Andrea wore a puzzled expression when she looked up from the strip of paper. “What does that mean?” Everyone shrugged and she gave a little laugh. “That’s what I thought. They must have left out a couple of words. What’s yours, Hannah?”
“I don’t really like fortune cookies.” Hannah pushed hers over to Norman. “I’ll trade you for your almond cookie.”
“Deal.” Norman said, handing over his almond cookie. “If you’re up to it, Hannah, we want to talk some more about Dean’s murder. I’ve got some ideas.”
“Fine with me,” Hannah said, reaching for her purse. She got out the steno book they’d used earlier at Lake Eden Realty and shoved it across the table to Andrea.
“You’re sure you’re not too tired?” Michelle looked concerned.
“I’m positive. I couldn’t sleep through that racket anyway.”
All four of them turned toward the kitchen, where Moishe was trying to spear the duck’s web with his claws and drag it out from behind the garbage can. He yowled every time he failed, but he didn’t stop trying.
“So what did you get out of Mike?” Norman asked after crunching a bite of his fortune cookie. “Ross said you talked to him while we were in the kitchen.”
<
br /> “Lynne wants to direct and Ross is going to give her the chance now that Dean’s dead. That’s another motive for her, Andrea.”
“Got it,” Andrea said, flipping the notebook open to the list of suspects and adding a second motive for Lynne. “Anything else?”
“Mike didn’t know that Dean taped all his rehearsals. I told him and he said he’d check the tapes in the morning.”
“Then I’d better call Clark.” Michelle got out her cell phone and punched in a number. “He’s in charge of collecting all the tapes. I can always run out to the inn and screen them if you think they’re that important.”
Hannah nodded. “Good idea. You’d better call Mother and tell her where you’re going. She’ll worry if you stay out at the inn too late.”
“No, she won’t. She told me to come and go as I please.”
Andrea exchanged glances with Hannah. “That doesn’t sound like the Mother we know and love,” she said.
“I know. She also told me she’ll have dinner with me, but she has her own plans after dinner every night this week.”
Hannah started to frown. “I wonder what plans she could have. There aren’t any club meetings. They all canceled their activities until the movie company leaves town.” She turned to Norman. “Are the mothers going somewhere together at night?”
“No. Except for the night they went out to dinner with you and Ross, my mother’s been home watching television.”
“Then what’s Mother doing?” Andrea looked worried. “You don’t suppose it’s another man, do you?”
“It’s possible, I guess,” Hannah conceded.
“But right after Winthop? I mean…wouldn’t you think she’d wait?”
“For what? Old age to set in?”
Andrea’s mouth dropped open, but Michelle and Norman started to laugh. They laughed so contagiously that Andrea had to join in, and eventually so did Hannah.
“Do you want to know what else I found out from Mike?” Hannah asked when the laughter had died down. There were nods around the round table and she picked up the thread of their former conversation. “Mike said his deputies searched everyone who left Granny’s Attic, but they didn’t find the prop gun. They also made an initial search of Granny’s Attic and it wasn’t there, either.”
“But it has to be!” Andrea exclaimed. “Guns don’t just vanish.”
“You’re right, they don’t. And they’ll search again tomorrow. But there’s also the possibility that whoever switched the gun left early and took the prop gun with him.”
“Winnie Henderson,” Norman said.
“What?”
“I saw her driving down Main Street after they’d already started shooting. I know her daughter was in that scene and I thought it was odd she’d leave before it was over.”
“Got it,” Andrea said, writing it down. “What else?”
“There’s the question we didn’t get around to discussing this afternoon.” Hannah took a bite of her cookie. As far as she was concerned, her almond cookies were a lot better than the commercial kind.
“What question is that?” Norman asked.
“Whether the killer actually meant to murder Dean. Or if his intended target was Burke.”
“That’s good, Hannah!” Michelle sounded very impressed. “You’re absolutely right and I bet no one else will even think of it. We’re probably light years ahead of the official investigation.”
“No, we’re not. I mentioned it to Mike.”
There was silence for a moment while the other three stared at her incredulously. It made Hannah so uncomfortable, she started to try to explain. “I know I probably shouldn’t have said anything, but he is the investigating officer. And I was really rattled. It happened at Granny’s Attic right after the murder and…”
“That’s okay,” Norman soothed her. “It isn’t supposed to be a contest.”
“True,” Andrea said, “although it seems like it most of the time.” She turned to Michelle. “Don’t you think it seems like a contest?”
“I think it does,” Michelle agreed. “But what we’ve all got to keep in mind is that it doesn’t really matter who catches Dean’s killer as long as someone does.”
Norman reached out to squeeze Hannah’s hand again. “Michelle’s right. And besides, we have your fortune to consider.”
“My fortune?”
“I saved it for you when I ate your cookie. It says Redhead with big mouth is still better detective than tall man in uniform.”
Chapter
Twenty-Three
“I think I should have changed places with Norman. I could have driven Michelle out to the inn and helped her go through the tapes.”
“You said you thought it would be boring,” Hannah reminded her sister.
“I’m changing my mind about boring. It’s not that bad and at least it’s safe.”
Hannah didn’t say a word as Andrea pulled over to the side of the gravel road that led past the Henderson farm. Her sister was right. What they were about to do was far from safe. Winnie had a shotgun and she wasn’t afraid to use it. And Winnie didn’t take kindly to intruders.
“Why are we doing this, again?” Andrea asked as she got out of her Volvo and pocketed the keys. She had driven to their destination after they’d decided that Hannah’s cookie truck was too easy to identify.
“We’re doing this because Norman said he saw Winnie driving down Main Street only minutes before the incident at Granny’s Attic. And I saw Winnie earlier, watching Alice waltz around on the cocktail party set.”
“So she was there and she left before Dean…” Andrea’s voice trailed off and she shuddered.
“That’s right.”
“And because she left early, she wasn’t searched. And that means she could have switched the revolvers and taken off with the prop gun. And nobody would be the wiser.”
“You got it.”
Andrea gave a deep sigh as she trudged up the one-lane road to the farm. They could see the house in the distance, gleaming alabaster white in the bright, cold rays from the halogen yard light.
“I wish I’d worn boots,” Andrea groused, glancing down at her sneaker-clad feet. “The ground’s still frozen and the bottoms of my feet are cold.”
“It’ll be warm in the barn.”
“You’re right. I forgot that barns were heated.”
Hannah didn’t bother to correct her sister. Strictly speaking, Andrea was right. Barns were heated. They were kept warm by herding in all the cattle, keeping them together in a closed space, and utilizing their body heat. When it came to barns in the winter, BTUs stood for Bunched Together Until Summer.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Andrea asked, stepping over a frozen rut in the road.
“It’s probably a bad idea, but somebody’s got to do it.” Hannah eyed the farmhouse again. “I don’t see any lights on in the house. Do you?”
“No, it’s dark. Winnie’s probably been in bed for hours. She told me once that she gets up at five. Can you imagine getting up that early?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Of course you can. I forgot that you get up early, too.”
Hannah didn’t say anything. Now wasn’t the time to give Andrea any grief about sleeping in. As they walked closer, Hannah noticed that Winnie’s sedan and her pickup truck were parked in the driveway. The house was perfectly silent, and the only things moving were the shadows from wispy clouds scuttling across the moon.
“Why don’t we tell Mike what we know and let him look for the gun?” Andrea suggested, not for the first time.
“I told you before. Mike can’t get a search warrant on speculation alone. And he can’t search anywhere without a warrant. If we don’t do it, nobody will.”
In the pale, blue light of the moon overhead, Hannah could read her sister’s expression. Andrea was seriously considering that option.
“Don’t even think about backing out now,” Hannah told her sternly. “You’re the one who told us that Wi
nnie hid her valuables in the barn.”
“Yes, but I didn’t know I’d have to come out here and look for them! What if Alice made up the whole thing? Lots of kids fib when they’re in grade school.”
Hannah knew her sister was trying to bail out, but they’d come too far to give up now. Andrea had gone to school with Alice Henderson and she’d told them about what Winnie’s youngest daughter had brought to class for Show and Tell. Hannah was pretty sure Alice’s story was accurate. It sounded like something Winnie would do. “But Alice showed you the gold medallions Winnie won for her prize cows, didn’t she?”
“Yes, but maybe Winnie didn’t keep them hidden in the barn. Alice could have fibbed about that.”
“Why would she fib?”
“I don’t know. And I guess maybe she didn’t. The plastic bag with the medallions smelled a lot like…you know…the kind of smell you’d smell in a barn.”
“Let’s just hope Winnie still uses the barn for a safe. And we can also hope she stashed the prop gun there and hasn’t gotten rid of it already. It’s a long shot, but we have to look.”
“I wish it wasn’t we,” Andrea muttered, taking a deep breath as they stepped up to the front of the barn. “How are we going to get inside, again?”
Hannah explained for the third time that evening. “The door slides to the side and it’s got a counterweight. I’ll pull it open just far enough for you to slip inside. If I open it up all the way, it’ll probably make a loud screeching noise. Most farmers don’t grease the barn doors on purpose. It’s like a burglar alarm.”
“Smart,” Andrea said.
“And a lot cheaper than hiring an alarm company. Once you’re inside, I’ll let the big door close and you’ll use your flashlight to walk to the small door and unlatch it.”
“Right. There’s just one thing.”
“What?”
“Aren’t the cows going to see me when I come in?”
“I don’t know. Why?”
“Well, what if they don’t like me and they start doing what they do in Away in a Manger.”
“Huh?”
