Blueberry Muffin Murder hsm-3

by Joanne Fluke

  "But fish is supposed to be brain food," Andrea objected. "At least that's what everybody says."

  "I know, but I'm having a steak, blood rare, with an order of garlic bread. You can have a double order of fish. Then you'll be smart enough for both of us."

  The Corner Tavern was crowded, but they managed to find a booth in the back. Hannah ordered the thickest porter- house they had, and Andrea ordered the fish.

  "You want your steak cooked the usual way?" the waitress asked Hannah.

  "Slap it on the grill, give it thirty seconds on one side, and flip it over for another thirty seconds."

  "I know, I know," the waitress said with a grin. "If it doesn't moo when you cut into it, it's overdone."

  When their waitress had left, Hannah plopped her huge shoulder bag on the table and pulled out her steno pad. "We might as well be constructive while we're waiting. Let's go over the notes."

  "Are you ever going to replace that?" Andrea asked her.

  "Sure, when it gets full. I've got a whole bag full of new steno pads at home."

  "Not that. I was talking about your purse. It's really a disgrace, Hannah. You've had it forever and it's completely out of style. Why don't you let me buy you a new purse for your birthday?"

  "No way. I love this purse. It's just the right size for everything I need and it's perfect for me. That's why I've had it so long. This purse is like a friend. You don't ditch a friend because she gets old."

  Andrea sighed. "If you won't give it up, maybe you should think about having it reconditioned. You could always have the leather dyed a darker color. Then the scratches won't show as much."

  "Those scratches are like battle scars. They're badges of honor. This purse and I have gone through the wars together."

  "And it looks like it," Andrea muttered, and then she started to grin. "We're doing it again, Hannah. We're squabbling like kids over your stupid purse."

  "My purse isn't stupid," Hannah retorted, and then she laughed. "You'd better take that back or I'll tell Mother."

  Several patrons at neighboring booths turned to stare at them as they both burst into laughter. One even asked them what was so funny, and that made them laugh even harder. When they finally sobered enough to speak, Andrea leaned closer. "Have you ever wondered why we call her 'Mother'?"

  "Because she gave birth to us?"

  "I'm serious, Hannah. We've always called her 'Mother' and never 'Mom.' "

  "That's true," Hannah said, and she thought about it for a moment. "I think it's because she's always been so perfect."

  "Perfect?" Andrea looked puzzled.

  "I mean her appearance was perfect. She never slouched around in old clothes like the other moms, and she even had a special outfit she wore when she worked in the garden. I never saw her without her makeup, and her aprons always looked like they were brand-new. It was almost like she was starring as the mother in a television show."

  "You're right," Andrea said, wincing slightly, "and I think I inherited it from her. I've got outfits for everything, too."

  "Relax. That doesn't mean you're like Mother," Hannah reassured her.

  "Are you sure?"

  "I'm positive. Mother would never ride on a snowmobile with me. She knows better. Now stop worrying about it and get ready to eat. Here comes our food."

  Hannah's steak was cooked perfectly, and she ate in silence for several minutes. When she glanced over at Andrea, she was only slightly surprised to see that her sister had eaten most of her fish and all of her green salad.

  "What?" Andrea asked, noticing Hannah's interest in her plate.

  "Nothing. I just thought you weren't hungry, that's all."

  "I wasn't, but I like the way they do fish here. And that garlic bread smells so good."

  "Here," Hannah said, shoving the basket closer to her sister.

  "Thanks, but no thanks."

  Hannah was puzzled. "But I thought you said it smelled good."

  "It does, but I can't have it. Do you know that ingested garlic seeps out through your pores for hours after you've eaten it? It even makes the sheets on your bed smell like garlic."

  "So?"

  "That wouldn't be fair to Bill. It'd be different if he ate it, too. Then neither one of us would mind. But Bill's not here, and it wouldn't be fair for me to eat it without him. You don't have to worry about things like that because you live alone."

  Hannah's lips twitched with amusement. Andrea had some strange ideas. "Just take a piece home to Bill and then there won't be a problem."

  "That's a good idea," Andrea said, reaching for the basket. "Don't let me forget, okay?"

  "I won't. Can you talk and eat at the same time?"

  "Sure. I'm almost through anyway."

  "Good. I want to go through my list of suspects again and make sure we didn't miss anybody." Hannah flipped through her notebook with her left hand and forked her salad with her right. "Here's Janie. We eliminated her. And here's Norman, but Mike decided that he couldn't have hit himself over the head. And here's Ray, Connie Mac's driver."

  "I eliminated him," Andrea said proudly. "He was nowhere near Lake Eden at the time."

  "Right. We eliminated Paul because he was with Alan, and Alan's eliminated because he didn't kill himself. And here's the man who got half."

  "Huh?" Andrea looked thoroughly puzzled.

  "The man Connie Mac and Alan were fighting about when Sally heard them in the bar. He got half of something and Connie Mac was really mad about it."

  "I remember now. There were just too many suspects, Hannah. I had trouble keeping them all straight."

  "Tell me about it." Hannah flipped the page. "Here's Kurt Howe, but I cleared him. And here's Alex, but I cleared her, too. Then there's Larry Kruger. We still have to question him."

  "No, we don't. I ran into him in the hall and we talked for a couple of minutes. He said he was alone when Connie Mac and Alan were killed, but he had an alibi for the night that Norman was bashed on the head."

  "What was it?"

  Andrea started to grin. "He was interviewing Lake Eden's foremost authority on Ezekiel Jordan's life to get more information for his ghost stories. Can you guess who that is?"

  Hannah sighed. Andrea was doing it again. She loved to tell stories her way, and now she wanted to playa guessing game. "It's got to be someone from the historical society. Am I right?"

  "You're right. But who?"

  "Someone who read the letters that Delores has. She said there was a lot of information in . . ." Hannah stopped speaking as the light dawned. "Larry Kruger was interviewing Mother?"

  "That's what he said."

  "She should be home by now. Call her to substantiate his alibi."

  "I think you should call her. You're older."

  "What does older have to do with it? Besides, you're the one with the phone."

  The two sisters locked eyes; Andrea caved in first. "All right. I'll call her. But I'm not happy about it."

  Hannah poured another cup of coffee from the carafe the waitress had brought and listened to the one-sided conversation as Andrea spoke to their mother. It was clear that Delores was confirming Larry Kruger's alibi. But then Andrea assumed a devilish expression, and that made Hannah go on full alert.

  "She's right here, Mother," Andrea said with a grin. "We're having dinner together. Hold on a second and I'll hand her the phone."

  Hannah shot her sister a look of betrayal as she took the phone, but she knew she might as well get it over with. "Hello, Mother."

  "Is it true, Hannah?" Delores asked.

  "What, Mother?"

  "That you found another body?"

  Hannah glanced at her sister. Andrea's shoulders were shaking with silent laughter and Hannah gave her a dirty look. "It's true, Mother. I did find another body. His name is Alan Carpenter and he was Connie Mac's lawyer."

  "Oh, Hannah!" Delores sighed so loudly, Hannah came close to holding the phone away from her ear. "I do wish you'd stop looking for trouble."

>   "I wasn't looking for trouble, Mother."

  "Perhaps not, but you certainly seem to attract it. You've got to make an effort, dear."

  Hannah glanced at Andrea again. Her sister was really enjoying this. "I will, Mother. I'll make a real effort to stop finding dead bodies, I promise."

  "Well, I should hope so! You're destroying your reputation, you know."

  "It'll be all right, Mother. I haven't noticed any small children cringing when they meet me on the street."

  "Don't be sarcastic. It's not becoming. Tell me the truth, Hannah. Are you working with the sheriff's department again?"

  "No, Mother."

  "How about your sister? She has a child to think of, you know. You're not. . ."

  "I'm not leading Andrea into any trouble, Mother," Hannah interrupted, hoping to nip that idea in the bud.

  "I just feel it's my duty to warn you, dear. People are starting to talk. It won't be long before they start to avoid you. You'll be an outcast in Lake Eden."

  "You're right, Mother." Hannah winked at Andrea. "I hate to cut this short, but I've got to go. People are starting to leave to avoid me, and I don't want to hurt the Comer Tavern's business. You have a nice evening, now."

  Andrea took the phone and clicked it off. "Larry Kruger's in the clear. When Norman was attacked, he was eating coconut cake in Mother's kitchen. I'm sorry I handed the phone to you, but if I'd told Mother, she would have given me a lecture."

  "That's okay. I forgive you," Hannah said good-naturedly. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think Mr. Fifty Percent is the only suspect we have left."

  "You're right."

  "We've got to find out who he is. Connie Mac knew, but she's dead. And Alan knew, but he's not talking now, either. Paul would know, but he won't be back until tomorrow."

  "Wait a second." Andrea looked thoughtful. "If we could get into Alan's files, we might be able to tell who Mr. Fifty Percent is without asking anybody. All we have to do is look for a contract that gives someone fifty percent."

  "But his files would be in his office. And his office is in Minneapolis."

  "That's his permanent office, but I'll bet he's got another office here."

  "What makes you think that?"

  "Because Alan lived in Minneapolis and the roads were really bad last night. If he had driven all the way there, he would have stayed over and come back this morning."

  "You've got a point," Hannah said, grabbing her note- book and flipping through it. "Alan and Kurt left the banquet at eight forty-five. We saw them leave. But Sally told me they walked into the bar at the inn at eleven. There's no way they could have driven to Minneapolis, held a press conference, and gotten back here by eleven. You're right, Andrea. Alan must have a local office."

  "So am I a genius, or what?" Andrea asked, preening a bit.

  "Absolutely. It must have been the fish."

  -29-

  Hannah glanced at her watch in the dim light of the bar, and then she nudged Andrea. "Twenty minutes to show time. Where's Janie?"

  "She's collecting the key from Sally and she's supposed to meet us in the lobby in five minutes. Let's leave now, Hannah. I'm getting nervous just sitting here."

  "What do you have to be nervous about?"

  "I'm out of practice. I haven't screamed in years." Hannah almost laughed, assuming that her sister was joking, but Andrea did look very nervous. "Don't worry. Screaming is like riding a bicycle. Once you learn how, you never forget."

  "Did you just make that up?"

  "Yes," Hannah admitted, "but don't forget that you've got Janie to help you. You said she was the second-best screamer in your drama class."

  Hannah left money to pay for their half-finished Cokes, and they left the bar for the lobby. She'd used Andrea's cell phone to make three calls on their way back to the inn. The first had been to Janie, who'd confirmed that Alan had used a small room in the back of the boutique as his office. He was the only one who'd had a key, but Janie was sure that his key ring was still in his room. Janie had worked with Alan long enough to learn his habits, and she knew he never took all of his keys when he went out on his walks. He just slipped his room key off the ring and carried it in his jacket pocket.

  Hannah's second call had been to Sally to ask if she could go up to Alan's room to retrieve his keys. Sally had been willing, but she'd told Hannah that Bill and Mike had stationed Rick Murphy outside Alan's door and that no one was allowed inside. This had prompted Hannah's third call; to Sally's mother, Francine. They had to create a diversion to lure Rick away from his post so that Hannah could get in. Ezekiel's ghost would do the trick, and Francine had agreed to make a special appearance.

  "I hope this works," Andrea said, entering the lobby and perching on the arm of an overstuffed chair.

  "It will. If you and Janie scream loud enough, Rick will come running. You've got to keep him with you long enough for me to dash in Alan's room, find the keys, and get back out."

  "If I have to, I'll faint," Andrea declared. "I used to be the best fake fainter in drama class, too."

  "Whatever it takes. Janie thinks Alan's keys are in his top dresser drawer. She says that's where he usually kept them."

  "How does she know that?"

  "He sent her up to get them last week, when he forgot them. He told her they were in his top dresser drawer, under his handkerchiefs."

  "I'm here," Janie called out, hurrying across the lobby and thrusting two keys into Hannah's hand. "The key with the tag is for Alan's room and the other one is for mine. My room is right next-door to his."

  Hannah nodded, dropping the keys into her pocket. "I'd better get up there right now. Bring Andrea to your room I when it's over. If I'm lucky, I'll be there with Alan's keys."

  The waiting was tense, and Hannah paced the floor of r Janie's room. It was now five minutes to showtime, and for someone who wasn't in the actual performance, she had a bad case of stage fright. The butterflies in her stomach felt as big as buzzards, and she hoped she wouldn't blow it. She was taking a big risk. If Mike found out that she'd gone into Alan's room after he'd declared it off limits, he'd lock her up for the rest of her natural life. Come to think about it, her natural lifespan might not be so natural if Mike got really mad at her.

  Three minutes to show time. Hannah took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She wanted to be with Francine so that she could control what time the ghost appeared at the end of the hall. She also wanted to be with Andrea and Janie, to tell them when to scream and how loud. She wanted to be with Bill and Mike to keep them away from the second floor, and she wanted to be outside Alan's door with Rick, encouraging him to abandon his post and investigate the source of the commotion. Hannah wanted to be everywhere, but she was stuck here, where she also wanted to be, so that she could sneak into Alan's room and grab the keys. At times like this, she wished she could split like an amoeba and be everywhere at once.

  One minute to show time. Hannah took out Alan's key and grasped it tightly, peering through the peephole in Janie's door. She counted down the seconds, as nervous as an astronaut on a first launch, and held her breath while she waited for the action. And then she heard the sweetest sound in the world.

  Two bloodcurdling, high-pitched screams rent the air. A man yelled out, the screaming went on, and Hannah heard footsteps pounding down the hallway. It took a five full seconds, but then she saw Rick Murphy, the youngest deputy on the force, rushing past Janie's door on his way toward the source of the screaming.

  Hannah opened the door and stepped out. There was a crowd milling around at the end of the hallway, and she could see someone down on the carpet. It was probably Andrea in a fake faint, but she didn't have time to confirm it. With fingers that shook slightly, Hannah sidled up to Alan's door and inserted the key in the lock. A second later, she was inside with the door closed securely behind her.

  The clock was ticking. Rick could be back any second. She had to find Alan's key ring and get out. Hannah raced for the dresser and pulled out the t
op drawer, feeling frantically under the stack of clean handkerchiefs. No keys. Had Mike and Bill already taken them, or. . .

  Hannah raced for the black coat that was draped over a chair. Sally had mentioned that Alan had been wearing a black coat when he'd come back from press conference. She thrust her hand into the pocket, drew out a clean hand- kerchief, one black leather glove. . . and the key ring!

  The commotion in the hallway had decreased in volume as Hannah tossed Alan's coat back onto the chair. She sped for the door, opening it a crack to glance out. Rick was still at the end of the hallway, leaning over a woman's body. As Hannah slipped out and sidled back to Janie's room, she realized that there was a big hole in her master plan. If Mile and Bill ever realized that Alan's keys were missing, she'd need an alibi.

  Her mind racing, Hannah considered the alternatives. Several people had seen her with Andrea earlier, and they might mention that she hadn't been at her sister's side. She had to convince everyone in the crowd surrounding Andrea that she'd been there when the ghost had appeared.

  Hannah ran into Janie's room and filled a glass with water. Then she ran back out, shouting to the people at the end of the hall. "It's all right! I'm coming!"

  Several people stepped back as she approached, and Hannah caught her first glimpse of Andrea. Her sister was stretched out on the floor, completely motionless. Not even her eyelids were quivering, and for one brief moment, Hannah wondered if Andrea truly had fainted. Then she remembered the time that her sister had played a comatose woman in a perfectly dreadful play written by Jordan High's drama teacher. Andrea was acting, and she was great at it.

  "Stand back," Hannah ordered, holding her glass of water aloft. "I'll bring her out of it."

  Andrea still didn't move a muscle, and Hannah figured that an Academy Award was in order. Of course, Andrea probably expected a cold washcloth on her brow, or a dose of pretend smelling salts. With a silent apology to her sister, Hannah upended the glass and doused Andrea's face with the water.

  Andrea gasped and then started to sputter as she saw Hannah bending over her. Her eyes were blazing, and Hannah knew she had to say something before Andrea ruined her best performance. "I'm sorry, Andrea. It was the only way we could think of to bring you back to consciousness."