by Joanne Fluke
"I know. I figure he's trying to lull me into a false sense of security and he'll put up a real fight when he breaks the water. Shout out when he gets close. I want to wrestle him in myself."
The mayor cranked, and the line began to wind around the drum. It seemed to take forever, but at last Hannah could see something red rising toward the surface of the water. "He's red. I didn't know there were any red fish in this lake."
"Neither did I," Mayor Bascomb sounded puzzled. "What the heck is he?"
"Search me," Hannah said, watching as the patch of red came up another inch. Then she gasped and hollered out to the mayor. "That's enough! Stop cranking!"
Mayor Bascomb locked the winch. "Are you ready for me to bring him in?"
"Not yet." Hannah turned to Andrea. "Do you have your cell phone with you?"
"Of course. I never know when a client might need me."
"Go sit down over there." Hannah moved to block Andrea's view of the hole and gave her sister a nudge toward 'I the loveseat. "I need you to make' a call for me. It's important."
Andrea looked as if she might object, but one glance at Hannah's serious expression convinced her to head for the loveseat. When she got there, she pulled out her cell phone and sat down. "Who do you want me to call?"
"Bill. Tell him to get right out here with Mike."
"Okay, but why do we need them?" Andrea asked.
"Just do it, Andrea."
"All right, I'm doing it." Andrea punched in the number, and then the light dawned. Her eyes widened and the color blanched from her face. "You mean. . . it's not a fish?"
Hannah shook her head. "Not unless the well-dressed fish is wearing a gold watch this season."
-24-
Hannah paced along the strip of ice in front of the hole, waiting for Bill and Mike to arrive. She'd asked Mayor Bascomb to take Andrea back to the inn to warm up, and now she was alone with the mayor's "fish." Just when she thought her feet couldn't get any colder, Hannah heard a car pull up outside. A moment later, Bill and Mike came in the door.
"You found another body?" Mike asked, sounding incredulous.
"Yup."
"And the mayor hooked it with his fishing line?"
"Yup."
Bill began to frown. "Is that all you can say?"
"Yup," Hannah answered him. "My teeth are chattering too hard to talk."
"Go stand in front of the space heater," Mike ordered, pointing to the area in front of the loveseat. "Don't you know that heat leaves your body faster if you're standing on the ice?"
"I know. I just didn't want to leave him, or her, or whatever it is. I was afraid the line might break."
Mike grabbed her arm and helped her over to the loveseat. "What were you going to do if it did break?"
"I don't know. I was too cold to figure that out."
Mike turned to Bill. "I'll stay here. You drive Hannah to the inn and come right back."
"No." Hannah shook her head. "I want to stay."
"We're going to have to bring up that body, and it won't be pretty," Mike warned her.
"That's okay." Hannah's curiosity was stronger than the tide of revulsion that rippled through her stomach. "This won't be the first dead body I've seen."
Mike stared at her for a moment. "Okay. Let's get started, Bill."
With both Mike and Bill tugging, they managed to get the body out of the water. By the time they finished, the corpse was facedown on the ice, and both men were panting. Bill rolled him over and Hannah took a step closer so that she could see the dead man's face. "It's Alan Carpenter!"
"How do you know that?" Mike asked, giving her a hard look.
"I met him at the Winter Carnival banquet. He was just leaving for a press conference."
"Did you ask him any questions?"
"Of course not." Hannah assumed a look of righteous indignation. "You made me promise to stay away from the Connie Mac people while I was out at the inn."
Mike wasn't buying it. His eyes bored through her. "Hannah?"
"Well. . . maybe a few," Hannah admitted, "but I told you before. He was just leaving. I don't think I exchanged more than a dozen words with him, and Andrea was with me the entire time."
Mike turned to Bill. "Will you call Doc Knight and tell him we need him out here?"
"Sure. How about the forensics team?"
"Them, too. I don't think they'll get much, but you never know. This ice-fishing house was out here last night, wasn't it?"
"I saw the mayor hauling it out here yesterday," Bill said. "How about Sheriff Grant? Do you want me to give him a verbal report, or do you want to do it?"
"You can handle it. Just tell him what we know so far, and say that we'll keep him apprised of any new developments. Be politic. He's not going to be happy about this."
Hannah felt a rush of warmth for Mike. With each case they handled, he was giving Bill more responsibility.
"Anything else?"
"If you think of something I missed, take care of it. We're partners. You don't have to check everything out with me. And while you're doing that, I'll take Hannah's statement."
"What statement?" Hannah was puzzled as Mike joined her on the loveseat. "I've already told you everything I know."
"Not quite. Tell me about your conversation with Alan Carpenter. It could be important."
"Let me think," Hannah said, doing her best to recall every word of their conversation. "We were introduced and. . ."
"What time?" Mike interrupted her.
"Right before Edna's girls served dessert. It was around eight-thirty, I think."
"Go on."
"Alan said it was a pleasure to meet us. And then he said he had to leave with Kurt Howe and he offered us their chairs. I asked him if it was something I said, and he laughed. And then he said that if they didn't leave right away, they'd be late for the press conference he'd scheduled at his office."
"In Minneapolis?"
Hannah shrugged. "I guess so. When we gave Connie Mac the tour, she mentioned that her corporate offices were in Minneapolis."
"Did you ask him if the press conference was about Mrs. MacIntyre's death?"
"Of course I did. It was a natural question. He told us that that the media was in a feeding frenzy and they wanted the details."
"Okay." Mike jotted it all down. "What else?"
"He said he was the spokesman for the family and Kurt was going to handle any questions that concerned the firm that published Connie Mac's cookbooks."
"That'd be Savory Press. Did you say anything else to him?"
"I don't think so. I know Andrea said something about how difficult it must be for him, and he said he had a duty as the family counsel to spare Paul in any way he could. And then he left. With Kurt Howe."
"And that's all?"
"I think so. . . . No, wait. I gave them some cookies for the trip and I said that the sugar would keep them going."
"Okay." Mike closed his notebook and slid it back into his pocket. "It's obvious he drove back here after the press conference. We'll check to find out if anyone saw him when he got back to the inn."
"I could do that for you," Hannah offered without thinking, and then she winced as Mike started to frown. She wasn't supposed to interfere. She had to remember that. "Forget I said that. I'll just keep my nose out of it and leave everything up to you."
"Sure, you will."
Mike sounded a bit sarcastic, and Hannah decided the best thing to do was to change the subject. "I wonder what Alan was doing out here on the ice. It's not exactly a normal place for a walk before bedtime."
"He didn't walk."
"You mean. . . somebody dumped him?"
Mike looked sorry that he'd said anything. "That's what it looks like to me. Did you see that wound on the back of his head?"
"I saw it," Hannah confirmed, shivering slightly. "It looks exactly like Connie Mac's wound."
"That's what makes me think he was dumped. Somebody could have forced him to walk out here at gunpoint, b
ut that doesn't make sense."
"Because then they would have shot him instead of bashing in his head?"
"That's right. We'll know more when Doc Knight gets here. He'll be able to tell us if Mr. Carpenter was dead when he entered the water."
'But how. . ." Hannah stopped in mid-question. She didn't really want to know how Doc Knight could tell something like that. "Never mind. I'd better go see how Andrea's doing."
"I'll take you back to the inn." Mike motioned to Bill. "Secure the crime scene and don't let anyone but Doc Knight and the forensics team in."
Hannah started to grin as she followed Mike out of the ice-fishing house. The moment the door was shut behind them, she grabbed his arm. "Are you going to rope off Mayor Bascomb's ice-fishing house?"
"I don't know. That all depends on what the forensics team finds. There could be trace evidence."
"DNA?"
"If that's where Mr. Carpenter went through the ice, I wouldn't be surprised."
"Then it'll be a crime scene, the mayor can't get back in?'
"Yes. What are you getting at, Hannah?"
"Mayor Bascomb's not going to happy about that, and neither is Sheriff Grant. I heard them talking about going up to Mille Lacs Lake next weekend. They do it every winter. Sheriff Grant reserves the spot and Mayor Bascomb brings his ice-fishing house."
Mike groaned. "I'll be taking plenty of flack about it, but there's nothing I can do. Rules are rules."
"So you're not going to bend those rules for the mayor and Sheriff Grant?"
"No." Mike turned to give her a puzzled look. "I wasn't just picking on you, Hannah. I had to secure your shop. And I may have to secure the mayor's ice-fishing house."
Hannah grinned up at him. "I'm probably crazy, but that makes me feel better. I still think you're pig-headed, but you're pig-headed with everybody."
"Thanks, I think." Mike grinned and held out his arms.
Hannah walked into them and they shared a hug. Then he opened the passenger door of the squad car and waited for her to get in.
"Are you sure you don't want me to ride in back?" she quipped.
"Don't be ridiculous. I don't have any reason to believe you're a suspect. . . do I?"
"When has that stopped you?" Hannah answered his question with a question of her own. "You suspected Norman, didn't you?"
"Not for long, and only because I had to. I told you be- fore. I didn't really believe that Norman did it."
Hannah shut her mouth and climbed into the front seat of the squad car. Mike had certainly sounded serious when he first told her that Norman was a suspect, but this wasn't the time to remind him of that.
"Hannah?" Mike climbed in the driver's seat and reached out to touch her arm. "Uh . . . I've been thinking about that jealousy thing."
"What jealousy thing?"
"You know. . . that maybe I suspected Norman because I was jealous of the time you spend with him. That might not be so crazy, after all."
"Really?" Hannah said, and then she held her breath.
"What I told you this morning is true. I'm glad that you're not sitting home waiting for me to call you. But I do get kind of a wrench in my gut when I think about you with somebody else. I don't know if you can call that jealousy, but it's close."
"Okay," Hannah said, hiding a smile. "As long as we're being truthful, I got a little wrench when I saw Kristi Hampton dangling all over you. And I don't know if that's jealousy, either."
"Dangling all over me? Is that what you thought? She was just being friendly, that's all."
"Oh, I see." Hannah allowed her smile to come out. "In that case, maybe we should get a little friendlier."
"Maybe we should." Mike pulled her into his arms and gave her a thorough kiss. It lasted for several minutes, until both of them were as warm as toast and breathing as if they'd just run a marathon.
"Friendly enough?" Mike asked as he started the squad car and drove forward across the frozen lake.
"Oh, yes," Hannah breathed settling back for the ride.
When Mike got close to shore, he took the temporary road that had been plowed for the delivery of the ice-fishing houses. That led them to the parking lot and Hannah's truck. He stopped near her rear bumper and reached out to take Hannah's arm before she could open her door.
"What?" Hannah asked, wondering if he was going to make even more of a commitment.
"You're not going to snoop around are you?"
Hannah gave an exasperated sigh. Leave it to Mike to spoil a perfect moment. "I promised you I wouldn't."
"I know, but that's never stopped you before. I tell you what. . . . Don't promise. Never make a promise you know you can't keep."
"Okay, I won't."
"So you are going to snoop around?"
Hannah winced. but she had to tell him the truth. "Probably."
"Okay. Just be very careful. That's all I ask. And call me right away if you need me."
Hannah reached out to touch his cheek. "I will," she said. "And that is a promise."
-25-
"Then Hannah walked into the lobby of the inn, the first VV person she saw was Janie. Her temporary houseguest was standing by the desk talking with Sally, who was manning the phones.
"Hi, Janie," Hannah greeted her. "Did you get a chance to see Paul?"
"No, he's gone. Sally just told me that he's in Minneapolis at corporate headquarters."
"He left at noon yesterday," Sally explained, "right after he came back from his interview with Mike and Bill. He told me he'd be in meetings all afternoon and all day today. I'm saving his room for him. He'll be back in time for the grand opening of the boutique tomorrow."
"Did he leave someone in charge?" Hannah asked her.
"Alan Carpenter, but we can't find him, either. He's probably out at the mall making last-minute arrangements for the opening."
"I really need to find out if I still have a job, and Alan would know." Janie looked a little nervous. "If you have time, could you take me out there?"
Hannah felt the horns of a dilemma poke her squarely in the backside. She wasn't supposed to say anything about Alan's murder, but she had to let Janie know that a trip to the mall wasn't necessary. "Uh. . . forget the mall. Alan's not there."
"Are you sure?" Janie asked.
"Oh, yes." Hannah held her breath, waiting for Janie's next question.
"Where is he?"
"He's: . . um . . . out at the mayor's ice-fishing house."
Sally's eyebrows shot up. "What's he doing out there?"
"Not much," Hannah said, and then she clamped her lips shut.
Sally stared at her for a moment and then began to frown. "You look like I do when I bounce a check and I don't want Dick to find out. Is there something you're not telling us?"
"You could say that," Hannah admitted, sending a silent apology to Mike for having to break another of his rules. "Alan's dead."
"I can't believe it!" Sally gasped after Hannah had told them. "Two of my guests. . . murdered!"
"Do they think it's the same killer?" Janie asked.
"Yes. I shouldn't have told you, but I couldn't see any way around it. Don't say anything to anybody until the sheriff's department officially releases the news."
"I won't," Sally promised.
"Me neither," Janie said. "Poor Alan. Sometimes he was a real pain, but he didn't deserve that."
Alex Matthews appeared at the doorway just then and waved to Janie. "Hi, Janie. I'm so glad you're back!"
"So am I," Janie said, and then she turned to Sally and Hannah. "I'll go talk to her for a minute. Don't worry. I won't say a word about Alan."
After Janie had left, Sally motioned for Hannah to come closer. "You're going to investigate, aren't you?" she asked.
"Of course I am."
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
"There may be," Hannah said. "The first thing I have to do is find out exactly when Alan was killed. When is the last time you saw him?"
"Last night. I w
as bartending and he came in with Kurt Howe. It was right before the eleven o'clock news."
"Was there anything odd about him?" Sally looked puzzled and Hannah went on to explain. "Maybe he was more nervous than usual, or angry about something?"
"He was a little uptight, but he told me they'd just come from a press conference and they'd been fielding questions about Connie Mac's death. Alan said they needed to unwind or they'd never get to sleep, and he ordered Chivas neat for both of them."
"How long did they stay in the bar?"
"Until the news was over. Kurt left first. He said he was going up to bed. Alan stayed for another couple of minutes, and then he said he was going to take a walk before he turned in. Before he left, he said he was going to sleep in, and he asked me to save him a prune Danish from the breakfast buffet."
"Did you?"
"Of course I did. I wrapped it up and left it in the kitchen for him, but he never came to get it. I figured he'd gone out to the mall early and had breakfast out there, so I gave it to Earl Flensburg when he came out here for lunch."
"So, as far as you know, he took his walk and then he went up to bed?"
"That's right."
"How about his car? Is it still in the lot?"
"Your guess is as good as mine. I haven't been outside all day long. If you want to check, it's a silver Mercedes with tinted windows."
Hannah thanked Sally for the information and headed to the restaurant to see how Andrea was bearing up. She was still chilled and she wanted to warm up before she walked out to the parking lot to look for Alan's car.
The restaurant was only half full, and Hannah spotted t Andrea sitting at a table for two. As she approached, her sister smiled a greeting. The color was back in Andrea's cheeks, and she looked as if she'd fully recovered from her shock.
"You look a lot better," Hannah commented, pulling out a chair and sitting down.
"I am." Andrea gestured toward the empty cup on the table. "You were right about the chocolate, Hannah. I had three cups of cocoa and I'm almost myself again."
"Where's Mayor Bascomb?" Hannah asked, noticing the second empty cup on the table.
"He went back out to the lake. Since he can't finish the ice-fishing contest, he's going to award the first-place trophy to the winner."
