“And you worried about it for the rest of the night because you didn’t know what else she was going to do?”
“That’s right.” Michelle gave Hannah an assessing look. “How do you know about that?”
“I had one memorable experience with Mother’s silent treatment and that was enough to keep me home for a solid month!”
“What did you do?”
Hannah shrugged. “Not much, but I did lie to her about where I was going. I had a friend named Marilyn. She was a bookworm, just like me, and every once in a while, we’d study together for a big test. Mother approved of Marilyn, but there was a group of three girls that she wanted me to avoid. As it turned out, she was right. All three got into big trouble in their senior year. But this was in our junior year and one of the girls begged me to come over and help them with their term papers in history. It was the night before they were due and I’d handed mine in that morning, so I said I’d help them.”
“That was nice of you.”
“Too nice, as it turned out. What they wanted wasn’t a critical review, or help in wording a section. They wanted me to actually write the term papers for them.”
“So you refused?”
“Yes. I told them I’d help them, but I couldn’t write their papers for them, that our teacher would recognize my style and we’d all get into trouble. They didn’t like that and they left me sitting there at the library.”
“So you went home?”
“Not right away. I’d told Mother that I was going to study with Marilyn so I had to stay there for a couple of hours. Then I went home.”
“How did Mother find out that you weren’t studying with Marilyn?”
“Marilyn called to talk to me an hour after I’d left home.”
“Busted!”
“Oh, yes. Mother didn’t say a word. She just handed me one of those little pink notes she always used to log in phone calls.”
“The ones with the blank line at the top and words under it that said, Called while you were out, and another blank for the time of the call and the telephone number?”
“Yes. She’d written Marilyn on the top line, and that was all. I tried to explain, but she just pointed to my room, so I went. And just like you, I worried all night about how she was going to punish me.”
“What did she do?”
“Absolutely nothing. In the morning, things were the same as they’d been on any other morning. And that was worse than any punishment she could have given me. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it never did.”
“She’s a smart mother,” Michelle said. “That’s exactly what she did to me.”
“Perhaps diabolical would be a better description than smart,” Hannah said, and both of them laughed as she pulled into the parking lot for the Eight Ball Bar.
“Park over there, under that tree,” Michelle pointed out a spot in the back of the lot. “We don’t want anyone to see your cookie truck and identify us if things go bad.”
“Bad? How could things go bad?” Hannah asked as she parked in the spot that Michelle had indicated.
“Maybe Seth won’t want to be interviewed and he’ll sic one of the bouncers on us. Then we won’t want him to know who we are or where we came from, but your cookie truck will give us away.”
“This place has more than one bouncer?” Hannah asked, picking up on the fact that Michelle had mentioned bouncers.
“Four or five, at least. Things get a little rowdy on music nights.”
“And tonight is their music night?”
“Their music nights are Monday through Saturday. They’re closed on Sundays. Come on, Hannah. Let’s go.”
What have you gotten yourself into this time? Hannah’s mind chided her as she got out of the truck, locked it securely, and followed Michelle across the parking lot. You don’t belong in a place like this!
“Neither does Michelle!” Hannah said aloud.
Michelle turned back to her. “What did you say?”
“Nothing. Just talking to myself. Is there a cover charge?”
Michelle laughed. “In a place like this . . . hardly! There’s a two-drink minimum, that’s it. Get something in a can or bottle. It’s safer. The last time I was here, they had a C minus rating from the health board tacked to the door. That’s one violation short of closing them down.”
“Thanks for telling me,” Hannah said as they neared the door and she saw the health board sign for herself. “I was thinking of ordering a hamburger.”
“Not here. I’m hungry, too. When we finish here, we can stop in at the Corner Tavern. They’ve got great hamburgers and it’s on our way home.” Michelle arrived at the door and pulled it open.
Hannah followed her into the dim and crowded interior of the building. “Do you come here often?” she asked Michelle.
“Only when Crystal’s working.”
“Who’s Crystal?”
“One of the girls who lives in our house. She bartends here some weekends and a couple of us make the commute with her.”
“That’s an hour’s commute!”
“I know, but the tips are really good. That’s how I know the Corner Tavern is open late. We always call ahead for burgers and eat them on the way back to the house.”
Hannah remembered what Michelle had said about Lonnie. “So Lonnie doesn’t mind when you come here without him?”
“I’m not sure if he minds, or not. It’s no big secret, but I’m not sure if he even knows we drive down with Crystal and come out here.” Michelle stopped speaking and frowned slightly. “Lonnie and I aren’t married and we aren’t engaged to be married. I love Lonnie and I think he loves me, but we don’t have a firm commitment. I don’t know everything he does when he’s not with me, and he doesn’t know everything I do when I’m not with him. Our situation is a little like the situation you had with Norman and with Mike.”
Hannah noticed Michelle’s use of the past tense when she referred to Hannah’s situations with Norman and with Mike. Michelle was sure that her big sister was ready to make a commitment to Ross. But are you sure? Hannah’s mind asked her. I’ll know soon, Hannah answered the question, and this time she was very careful not to voice her answer aloud.
“Hi, there,” a cocktail waitress came bustling up to them.
“Hi, Laney.”
The waitress gave Michelle a closer look. “You’re a friend of Crystal’s . . . right?”
“That’s right. I’m Michelle.”
“Crystal’s not working tonight.”
“I know. She’s at home cramming for a test, but she’ll be in this weekend.”
“Good. She makes a great Appletini. All the girls love them. A table for two?”
“Could you make it a table for three? And just as close to the stage as we can get?” Michelle asked, handing Laney a folded bill. “Somebody may be joining us later.”
“Sure thing. Just follow me.”
With the agility of a mountain goat, Laney wove a narrow path between the too many tables in the too small a space, until she stopped at a tiny cocktail table with three chairs that was placed directly in front of center stage. “This okay with you?”
“Perfect,” Michelle told her. “Bring us two Bartles and Jaymes, any flavor, and two small bottles of water. And Laney? Can you do us a favor and open them right here at the table?”
“Sure thing. I would have done that anyway for any friend of Crystal’s, especially the way Jimmy is eyeing your friend.”
Hannah turned to look at the older man behind the bar and discovered that he was staring at her. At first she thought his left eye was twitching, but then she realized that he was winking at her and she turned away quickly. “What would he do?” she asked Laney.
“Put a couple shots of vodka in the bottles,” Laney answered her. “And then, when he saw you were having trouble walking straight, he would follow you out to the parking lot.”
Hannah gave a relieved sigh. “I’m glad we didn’t sit at the bar!”
>
“You should be,” Laney gave a little laugh. “Jimmy’s been on a tear ever since his wife up and left him. Even the waitresses have to watch it around him.”
When Laney left to get their drinks, Hannah glanced at the Eight Ball Bar patrons. The age range was wide, from the mid-twenties to the early sixties. The older women seemed cut from the same mold, dressing in clothing designed for younger, more toned bodies and sporting hair colors that probably weren’t real. They wore too much makeup, drank too many alcoholic fruit drinks, and laughed too loudly at each other’s jokes. There were a few couples, but not many.
And there was a definite segregation of the sexes. There were tables of women and tables of men, but very few mixed tables. The women were quite obviously vying for the attention of the men, but the men appeared oblivious to their attempts at flirtation.
Hannah turned to Michelle. “What’s going on here? Those women over there, the one in the red top for instance, is flirting with the man in the black shirt at the next table. She’s really loud and I’m sure he notices her, but he just keeps on talking to his buddies and doesn’t acknowledge her at all.”
“Of course not. It’s not last call.”
“What?”
“He’s waiting until it’s closer to closing time. If he notices her now, he’ll have to buy her drinks all night. If he waits, he can get away with one or two rounds.”
“He’s that cheap?”
“Yes, but so are most of the guys who come here. Crystal told us about it and I’ve seen it for myself. When they flick the lights for the last round, the men scurry around like rats, trying to pick someone up.”
“And the women let them?”
“Some do, some don’t. If we stayed, you’d see it for yourself, but I hope we won’t have to stay that long. The band’s due to start any minute now, and if we play our cards right, we can talk to Seth and get out of here in an hour tops.”
“I hope so,” Hannah said, trying not to sound as upset as she felt. She was sorry she’d asked about the dating ritual. It was sad to see these desperate women try to attract such callous men. Didn’t they realize that there was more to life than spending their nights like this?
It was a welcome distraction when the band arrived. There were four men, all dressed in show clothes. Their pants were skin-tight and black in color, and they wore gold satin cowboy shirts decorated with rhinestones. They had similar haircuts that emphasized their bleached-blond spiky hair, and they all wore pasted-on smiles. Hannah tried to decide which one was Seth Dortweiler, but since she’d never seen a photo of him, and since all of the band members looked alike, this was no more than guesswork.
“I’ll find out which one is Seth,” Michelle said, and Hannah wondered if her baby sister had been taking mind-reading classes at Macalister.
“Good idea,” Hannah replied. “I’ll pay for the drinks when they come.”
“Don’t tip Jimmy if he brings them,” Michelle warned, getting up from her chair. “He may think you’re paying him in advance for something a little more than delivering our drinks.”
Hannah sent up a silent prayer that Laney would be the one to deliver their drinks. And her prayers were answered almost immediately when Laney arrived at their table with a tray holding four bottles.
“I just saw Michelle up there,” she pointed to the raised stage, “talking to the boys in the band. I didn’t know she was a fan.”
“Neither did I,” Hannah said quite truthfully.
“There she goes through the kitchen door,” Laney announced, standing on tiptoe to follow Michelle’s progress through the overcrowded room. “She’s probably going out to the trailer to see Seth.”
“You’re probably right.”
“She’s a theater major, isn’t she?”
“Yes.”
“I figured that. So is Crystal and she said everybody in their house is some kind of drama person. If Michelle gets in to see Seth, she’s in for the surprise of her life!”
“She is?” Hannah felt a seed of worry begin to grow rapidly. It rivaled time-lapse photography with the speed it took for the worry to bloom into full-blown fear. “What’s the surprise, Laney?” she asked.
“Seth looks like a Dee-Dee,” Laney told her, “but he’s not like that at all.”
“What’s a Dee-Dee?”
“A Degenerate Doper. That’s what he looks like onstage. But he isn’t. It’s part of his act.”
Hannah was slightly relieved, but not entirely. “You seem to know Seth pretty well.”
“I should. His mother used to live on our block before she inherited that mansion of hers.”
The seed of worry had bloomed and died, and Hannah was grateful to Laney for the information. “So the degenerate doper persona is all an act?”
“You bet it’s an act!” Laney accepted the tip Hannah handed her and smiled her thanks. “Seth graduates from law school this year. The guys in the band go to law school, too.”
“With that hair?” Hannah glanced at the men, who were almost through setting up their equipment.
“They wear hairpieces. You ought to see them when they come out in their regular clothes. They could walk right in here and sit at a table, and no one would know who they were. By the way . . .” Laney leaned closer and lowered her voice, “I hope you brought earplugs. They’re pretty awful, but they put on a good show and the women love them. They’re especially crazy about Seth. He sings, if you can call it that.”
Hannah wasn’t sure she completely understood. “Do they do this for the thrill of it?”
“No, they do it for money. It’s helping to put all five of them through law school.”
“Did Seth’s father know he was going to law school?” Hannah asked.
“I don’t know for sure. All I know is that Seth’s mother doesn’t know. He told me he wants to shock her by inviting her to his graduation.”
“That’s a little odd, isn’t it?”
“Maybe, but he’s probably got his reasons. I never asked. I just promised never to tell her. Actually . . . I shouldn’t have mentioned it to you.” Laney looked very uncomfortable. “I guess that’s because you’re easy to talk to. You won’t tell his mother, will you?”
“Absolutely not. I only met her once and I don’t plan on seeing her again.”
Laney laughed. “I can appreciate that! Sheila is a piece of work. I’m surprised the judge lasted with her as long as he did. That was really awful what happened to him, wasn’t it!”
“It was awful,” Hannah agreed.
“I heard he was married again and that it was going fine. He deserved a little happiness after Sheila. Do you know that she kept right on cashing those alimony checks of his even after she inherited all that money from her family? She didn’t need his money. And she knew he was married again and didn’t have a big retirement. What a witch!”
Chapter Twenty-one
Hannah had taken only one sip of her wine cooler when Michelle came rushing back to the table. “Let’s go!”
“Go where?”
“Through the kitchen to the band trailer. Seth’s got ten minutes before he has to go on and he can see us right now.”
A moment or two later, Hannah was following her sister through the kitchen, a crowded little room with more unwashed dishes and cockroach traps than food. They emerged through the back door and crossed the asphalt parking lot to a dented camping trailer.
“Seth?” Michelle knocked on the door. “It’s Michelle and Hannah.”
There was a muffled sound from the interior which Michelle must have taken for permission to enter because she climbed up the step and opened the door.
“Come on, Hannah,” she said, stepping through the doorway and into the interior.
Hannah followed her, stepping into a brightly lighted room with a couch, a mirror that ran the length of one wall with a counter beneath it, and three chairs positioned in front of the reflective surface.
“This is my sister, Hannah,” Michell
e introduced her. “And Hannah? This is Seth Dortweiler. I told Seth that you were investigating his father’s murder.”
“Hello, Hannah.” Seth rose from his chair in front of the mirror and reached out for her hand. “Good to meet you.”
“Thanks. You, too,” Hannah said, trying not to stare at Seth’s skintight, red satin jumpsuit that left very little to the imagination.
“I go to William Mitchell and there was an article about you in the St. Paul Pioneer Press. Michelle told me you’re investigating my dad’s murder and I want to help you any way I can, but I have only a few minutes before I go on. We can also meet during our break if you have more questions for me.”
Hannah noticed that Seth’s voice was shaking slightly and that could be due to one of three reasons. Either he suffered from a bit of stage fright, he was still terribly upset about his father’s death, or he was nervous about being questioned because he was guilty.
“When is the last time you saw your father?” Hannah began in an attempt to narrow it down.
“Last week. We met for lunch at The Corner Café. That’s only five minutes from the courthouse and Dad was hearing a trial there.”
“Did you talk about the trial?”
“No, we talked about law school. He was . . .” Seth stopped speaking and swallowed hard. “He was really happy that I was almost through. It was . . . our secret.”
“Did he know about the band?”
Seth smiled for the first time since they’d entered the trailer. “Yeah. He got a real kick out of it. He said he bartended at a real dive when he was going to law school.”
“He went to William Mitchell, didn’t he?” Michelle asked.
Seth nodded. “He helped me get in. Alumni pull and all that. My grades weren’t really good enough, but they took me anyway because of his recommendation.”
“And you’re due to graduate this year?”
Seth nodded again. “He was really pleased that I was going to law school.”
Hannah picked up on the obvious omission. “Isn’t your mother pleased?”
“Sheila?” Seth gave a little laugh. “Nothing pleases Sheila.”
Double Fudge Brownie Murder (9780758280428) Page 20
