by Joanne Fluke
“So he just filed off your tooth?” Hannah asked, exchanging glances with Andrea. It didn’t sound as if Luanne could be the woman who’d called Boyd.
“That’s right. I was going to ignore it I really hate to go to the dentist. But I kept catching my tongue on it, and Rose noticed. She made me go.”
Hannah nodded. Another suspect eliminated. “Were you Norman’s first appointment of the morning?”
“No. Another lady came in early, but she was already gone when I got there.”
“He told you that?” Andrea asked.
“Not exactly. But there was a scarf on the back of the chair, and I handed it to him. He said his first patient must have left it, and he’d give it back when she came in for her next appointment.”
“But you don’t know who his first appointment was?”
“All I know is that she bought my scarf.” Luanne sighed deeply.
“Your scarf?”
“The one I was going to buy for my mother. You must have seen it, Hannah. Claire Rodgers had it in her window at Beau Monde. It was dark green cashmere and it had three beautiful pink roses embroidered on it. My mother really liked it, and I was saving up to get it for her Christmas present. I guess I should have put it on layaway, but it was so expensive, I didn’t think anyone else would buy it.”
“Thanks, Luanne.” Hannah smiled. She had the information she needed. If the scarf was that expensive, Claire would be bound to remember who’d bought it. “How’s Suzie?”
“Growing like a weed. She’s walking really well now. Drop over and see us sometime. You two are always welcome.”
“We will,” Hannah promised. Luanne was doing a wonderful job raising her daughter alone. It had to be difficult because she was supporting her widowed mother, too.”
“Do you think she’s ready for games yet, Luanne?” Andrea asked.
“What kind of games?”
“Tracey had a round plastic one with little animals on the buttons. If you pressed the picture, it made a sound. The cow went moo, and the pig went oink. I think there was a cat and a dog and a bunch of others.”
“Suzie would love something like that for Christmas. Where did you buy it?”
“It was a gift. I still have it around somewhere. If I can find it, would you like it for Suzie?”
Luanne looked a bit uncomfortable. Hannah could tell that she wanted the game for Suzie, but she’d always been too proud to take charity. “Well… if you’re sure Tracey doesn’t want it…”
“She doesn’t. Tracey hasn’t played with it for years. I’ll look around and see if I can dig it up. You might have to buy new batteries, though.”
“I can do that,” Luanne said quickly, and Hannah silently complimented her sister for her tact. As long as Luanne had to buy something to make the game work, it wasn’t exactly charity.
“If I find it, I’ll bring it out. There’s probably a couple of others, too. She had a lot of those battery games. Is it all right if I bring Tracey with me? She really liked Suzie.”
“Sure. Suzie keeps asking about when she’s coming out to play again.” Luanne picked up the tray and stepped back. “I’d better get back to work. Mayor Bascomb drinks a lot of coffee, and he’ll probably need a refill by now.”
The moment Luanne had left, Andrea leaned across the table. “We’re going to Claire’s shop?”
“I’m going to Claire’s shop,” Hannah corrected her after glancing at her watch. “It’s almost three. Will you have time to pass out some fliers or something in Danielle’s neighborhood before you pick up Tracey?”
“Sure. I’ll drop by Kiddie Korner first and take Tracey with me. She loves to go along when I pass out fliers. You want me to talk to Danielle’s neighbors?”
“Yes. We need to find out if anyone saw or heard anything unusual between eight-thirty and ten last night.”
“I’ll do it, but Bill and Mike already canvassed the neighborhood. What good will it do for me to ask the same questions?”
Hannah realized that a little flattery was in order. “Danielle’s neighbors might tell you something they wouldn’t tell a cop. Besides, you’re really good with people.”
“Of course I am. I’m a real-estate agent.” Andrea preened a bit. “Al’s got a stack of calendars in the office, and I could deliver them personally. There’s nothing like a freebie to get people talking. You can count on me, Hannah. If Danielle’s neighbors know anything at all, I’ll find out what it is and tell you at the bake-off tonight.”
* * *
Hannah knew she’d been shirking her duties and felt guilty about asking Lisa to mind the shop for another few minutes. “Are you sure you don’t mind, Lisa? It shouldn’t take me more than five minutes. I just have to ask Claire a question.”
“No problem,” Lisa reassured her. “The baking’s all done, and I like waiting on the customers.” Lisa moved a little closer so the customers who were in the shop couldn’t hear her. “Is it about Boyd Watson’s murder?”
“Yes, but don’t mention it. I’m not supposed to be nosing around.”
“Mike’s orders?” Lisa waited until Hannah had nodded, then she started to grin. “Mike’s orders that you don’t plan to follow?”
“You got it. And Bill doesn’t know that Andrea’s helping me, so it’s a double secret.”
“I wish I could help.” Lisa sounded a bit forlorn. “Can you think of anything for me to do?”
Hannah thought about it for a moment. “Keep your ears open in here. Your mother probably told you not to eavesdrop, but in this case, it’s for a good cause.”
“I’ll do it, but the customers probably won’t say anything in front of me.”
“Yes, they will. If you think someone’s talking about the murder, just take the carafe of coffee and stand right next to them. People never pay attention to the people who bring them coffee. It’s like we’re invisible.”
“I can hardly wait to try it.” Lisa looked amused. “I used to wish I could be invisible when I was in grade school. I just hated it when the teacher called on me. Anything else?”
Hannah knew she could trust Lisa and decided to take her into her confidence. “Listen for any young woman who slurs her words. Danielle said that Boyd got a call from someone like that and it made him really angry. It’s our only lead at this point.”
“I’ll listen for her. You go talk to Claire and don’t worry about anything here. I’ve got it covered.”
* * *
Hannah slipped out the back way and hurried across the snow-covered asphalt to Claire’s back entrance. The wind was kicking up, and even though Beau Monde was right next door, Hannah was shivering by the time she got there. She knocked loudly at the back door and waited, hugging her arms around her body to keep warm and wishing she’d grabbed her parka. The meteorologists were predicting that this would be the coldest winter on record. If they weren’t exaggerating, Lake Eden residents would have to dress up in survival gear just to retrieve their morning papers.
“Hi, Hannah.” Claire unlocked the back door and motioned her in. “Where’s your coat?”
“Hanging up at the shop. Do you have a minute, Claire?”
“Sure. It’s slow right now. The only one here is Marguerite Hollenbeck, and she’s in the fitting room. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll just go check on her and be right back.”
Claire ducked through the flowered curtain that led to her shop and Hannah sat down on the stool in front of the sewing machine. Claire’s back room was tiny and cramped. There were dress boxes stacked in the corner, an ironing board with an iron that was always set up against the back wall, and a small desk that Claire used for her invoices and bills. There was also a large counter stretching the length of the inside wall, and Claire used it for folding purchases, wrapping them in tissue paper, and placing them in lavender Beau Monde boxes. A long dress rack took up most of the remaining space, and it was filled with outfits waiting to be altered. Hannah noticed a vividly striped pantsuit in bright blue, l
ime green, and shocking pink, and she grinned as she saw the name on the tag. She should have guessed that Betty Jackson had bought it. Betty always wore vertical stripes. Someone had once told her that they were slimming, but they’ neglected to mention that stripes couldn’t fool anyone into thinking that a size twenty-six was petite.
“Marguerite’s fine,” Claire reported as she ducked back through the curtain. “She took in five dresses and she’ll be busy for a while. Your outfit’s all right for tonight, isn’t it?”
“It’s perfect,” Hannah reassured her. Claire had provided all of her outfits for the contest, and both of them were grateful to Mr. Hart. Claire was grateful because he’d paid retail and given her an on-screen credit as a bonus. Hannah was grateful because Mr. Hart had told her to keep the clothes, and they were a welcome addition to her limited wardrobe.
“You’re wearing the dark green sweater dress tonight?”
“Yes. It’s really beautiful, Claire.” Hannah knew she’d never have a better opportunity to ask Claire about the scarf. She’d decided not to let Claire know that she was investigating Boyd Watson’s murder. She’d taken enough people into her confidence already. “I came about that scarf you had in the window, Claire. I thought it would look really good with tonight’s dress, and I want to buy it.”
“Which scarf was that?”
“The dark green cashmere with embroidered pink roses.”
“Oh, that one.” Claire’s face turned a sickly shade of white and she leaned against her desk. “I’m sorry, Hannah, but that particular scarf is… gone.”
“Somebody bought it?”
“Not exactly. It… uh… it faded in the window, and I had to return it to the manufacturer.”
“Do you have another one like it?”
“No. The roses were hand-embroidered, and it was one of a kind. That’s why it was so expensive.”
Hannah watched as Claire picked up a dress box to assemble it. Her hands were shaking, and she couldn’t seem to meet Hannah’s eyes. There was only one conclusion Hannah could draw from Claire’s sudden attack of nervousness. She was lying.
“You’re sure no one bought it?” Hannah asked again. “I know you’re rushed right before Christmas. You might have sold it to someone and forgotten.”
“I didn’t forget.” Claire looked up and met Hannah’s gaze squarely. “No one bought that scarf, Hannah. But you really don’t need a scarf with your sweater dress. It’s perfect just the way it is.”
Hannah decided to give Claire an easy out and stood up to leave. “You’re probably right. It was just a thought, that’s all. I’d better get back to the shop. Lisa’s holding down the fort alone, and we’re really busy today.”
“And I’d better get back to Marguerite before she thinks I’ve deserted her.” Claire was clearly relieved that their discussion was over and walked over to open the back door. “I’ll be watching you on television tonight.”
As Hannah raced across the icy stretch of asphalt, she tried to make sense of what Claire had told her. When Claire had said that the scarf had faded in the window, she’d been lying. But when she’d insisted that no one had bought it, she’d been telling the truth. It was a puzzle and Hannah loved to solve puzzles, but this one had her stumped.
* * *
Hannah opened the oven door and popped the Apricot Bread Pudding inside. It seemed strange to put something into a cold oven, but she reminded herself that this was show business, and Julia Child had done the same thing on her show. Then, when the stage manager gave her the high sign, Hannah opened the lower oven and took out the dessert she’d baked before the news had begun. She’d spoon it out into dessert dishes while Rayne Phillips gave his weather report and pour on the heavy cream during Wingo Jones’s sports news.
She walked over to the refrigerator, opened the door, and faced an array of gleaming shelves. They were perfectly bare. She’d been so busy sleuthing, she’d forgotten to bring the heavy cream!
Someone was waving at her in the wings and Hannah spotted Lisa holding up a quart of heavy cream. The stage manager also spotted her and motioned her forward, but Lisa shook her head. The gesturing went back and forth for a moment, the stage manager crooking his finger in a “come here” signal, and Lisa’s head shaking back and forth in refusal.
Hannah bit back a grin as the stage manager ducked down beneath camera range and scuttled off to the place where Lisa was standing. There was a brief discussion, which Hannah could imagine. “Come on, she needs that cream.” “But I can’t!” “Yes, you can. You don’t want to let her down, do you?” Finally, Lisa, blushing to the very roots of her light brown hair, walked onto the set and handed Hannah the cream.
Lisa turned her face slightly, so the audience couldn’t see it. “He told me to help you deliver the desserts,” she whispered.
“Good. I can use the help,” Hannah whispered back. “I’ll dish them up and you pour on the cream. Then I’ll carry the tray and you can hand them to the newscasters, okay?”
Lisa nodded, and they dished up the desserts together. They’d just finished when the stage manager motioned them forward. Hannah stepped out with the tray and Lisa followed her up to the newscaster’s long gleaming desk.
“It’s a new face, folks,” Chuck Wilson commented, and then he turned to Lisa. “Who are you?”
Lisa took a deep breath and Hannah guessed what was running through her mind. She had to answer. She’d look like an idiot if she didn’t. “My name is Lisa Herman, and I’m Hannah’s assistant at The Cookie Jar.”
“Thanks, Lisa.” Chuck smiled as he gazed down at the dessert dish. “This looks delicious. What is it, Hannah?”
“Apricot Bread Pudding,” Hannah answered, hoping he wouldn’t ask Lisa another question before she finished serving the other newscasters. Her hands were already shaking, and if she got any more nervous, Dee-Dee Hughes would end up with Apricot Bread Pudding all over her tight yellow sweater.
It seemed that Dee-Dee was on a mission to call attention to her perfect figure, because the moment after Lisa had served her, she said, “Christmas is coming and I know I have to watch my weight. This dessert isn’t low-cal, is it?”
“It’s not low-cal, but it has half the calories of a slice of apple pie,” Lisa surprised Hannah by answering. “And it would be even less if you served it with milk instead of heavy cream.”
Hannah silently applauded Lisa for figuring out the calories. She must have guessed that Dee-Dee Hughes would ask the same question she’d asked last night.
“I’ve never had bread pudding like this before,” Wingo Jones put in his two-cents’ worth. “Doesn’t it usually have raisins?”
“Yes,” Hannah answered this time. “But there’s no reason why you can’t use other dried fruit.”
Wingo looked confused. “I didn’t know raisins were dried fruit. I thought they were just… raisins. You know, in the box? For quick energy?”
“Raisins are dried grapes,” Lisa explained. “Just like prunes are dried plums.”
Rayne Phillips licked his lips, then gave the camera blissful smile. “This is really good, folks! Aren’t you going to tell us how to get the recipe so we can make it at home, Chuck?”
Chuck Wilson picked up on his cue and explained that viewers could call KCOW switchboard for a copy of Hannah’s recipe. There was a final shot of the newscasters with Hannah and Lisa standing behind them, then the news was over.
Hannah waited until they’d gone back to the kitchen set to pack up the supplies. They worked in silence for a moment, then she turned to Lisa. “You were great tonight, Lisa. You said just the right things.”
“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 real
ly 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.”
