Fudge Cupcake Murder hsm-5

by Joanne Fluke

  "What did I say?"

  "I was telling Bertie that I wasn't going to interfere in Sheriff Grant's murder investigation and you said, Yes, you are. And you said it without moving your lips."

  "Oh, that. I learned how to talk that way in seventh grade. Mr. Becker used to give us demerits if he caught us talking in class, so we learned to talk without moving our lips. He never caught on and we did it all year long."

  "Not that! I'm talking about when you said I was going to interfere in Sheriff Grant's murder investigation."

  "You are. You have to do it, Hannah. Bill needs you."

  "Are you sure about that?"

  "I'm positive."

  Hannah gave Andrea a long level look. "Are you telling me that Bill asked you to ask me to investigate Sheriff Grant's murder?"

  "Not exactly."

  "How, exactly?"

  "It's Mike." Andrea took another sip of her coffee and her eyes began to flash fire. "He's a first-class jerk! I still can't believe that I invited him into my home and fed him sandwiches and everything, and then he turned on us like a rat in the grass!"

  "Snake," Hannah corrected her automatically.

  "What?"

  "It's snake in the grass, not rat in the grass. What did Mike do?"

  "He betrayed our trust, that's what he did! If you ever speak to him again, I'll… I'll disown you!"

  Since Andrea only used that threat when she was upset, Hannah decided not to mention the fact that sisters couldn't disown sisters. If looks weren't deceiving, Andrea was working herself up into a full-scale snit. Her cheeks were red and her eyes were flashing fire. Hannah hadn't seen her this angry since high school, when someone had spilled grape soda on her favorite pink cashmere sweater.

  "Mike is… just awful! He's a… a…" Andrea stopped and covered her tummy with her hands. "I'd better not say what I'm thinking. I just read an article that said babies hear sounds before they're born and I don't want little Billy to hear how mad I am."

  "Just take it easy and tell me what Mike's done to get you so riled up."

  "Mike…" Andrea stopped and took another deep breath, letting it out with a whoosh. "Mike thinks Bill murdered Sheriff Grant!"

  Chapter Five

  Hannah felt as if she'd been punched in the stomach. She was about to ask Andrea what she meant when she noticed the color of her sister's face and rushed to the counter to get her a medicinal dose of chocolate.

  "Here, Andrea." Hannah shoved two Black and White cookies into her hand. "You need chocolate."

  "What I need is for Mike to drop dead!"

  "Understandable, considering the circumstances." Hannah gestured toward the cookies. "Eat. Now."

  "All right, all right," Andrea sounded peeved, but she took a big bite of the first cookie. Then she took another bite, and another, finishing it in a gulp. The second cookie was gone just as quickly as the first and Hannah was relieved to see that a little color was beginning to come back to Andrea's cheeks.

  "You look better," Hannah told her, feeling a lot better herself. Andrea had turned so pale she'd wondered if she ought to call Doc Knight.

  "I feel better. But I'm still mad at Mike."

  "Can't blame you for that," Hannah said leaning over to pat Andrea's hand.

  "It's just awful, Hannah! I'm so mad I'm speechless."

  "No, you're not," Hannah said, regretting the words the moment they'd left her mouth. Now was not the time to argue semantics. "Just tell me exactly what happened. Maybe there's something I can do to help."

  Andrea shook her head once to clear it and then she took a deep breath. "It all started this morning at work. Mike said he had to suspend Bill because Bill was home alone last night and he didn't have an alibi for the time when Sheriff Grant was killed."

  "Hold on a second. Mike suspended Bill? How did he have the authority to do that?"

  "He's acting sheriff, now that Sheriff Grant's dead. It's right in the rulebook. The highest ranking deputy assumes the sheriff's position until a new sheriff is elected."

  "Oh." Hannah grabbed her shoulder bag purse and pulled out one of her ever-present stenographer's notebooks, the kind she used for important notes. "You said Bill didn't have an alibi for the time that Sheriff Grant was killed. What time was that?"

  "I don't think Bill knows. Mike hustled him out before he could find out anything about the investigation."

  "Okay. You also said that Bill was home alone. Where were you?"

  "I took Tracey and two of her friends to a movie at the mall. Now I wish I hadn't. The movie was awful, one of those horrible cartoony things where the people don't even look real and the…”

  "Okay," Hannah interrupted what she figured would be a tirade about the quality of children's movies. "Let's get back to Bill's suspension. Is this just a procedural thing? Or does Mike really think that Bill killed Sheriff Grant?"

  "I don't know for sure. But Bill told me that Mike really sounded serious when he suspended him. I'm still reeling in shock. I thought Mike was Bill's best friend and I just can't believe that he'd betray him this way."

  "It's hard to believe, all right." Hannah agreed, since she was having trouble digesting it herself. But unless Mike's evil twin had come to town and was keeping the real Mike hog-tied in a closet, that was exactly what he'd done.

  "Bill didn't do it, Hannah. My husband's no killer."

  "Of course he's not," Hannah said in her most comforting tone. It was true. Bill wouldn't hurt a fly, unless he wanted to use it for fishing. "Let's approach this systematically, Andrea. Exactly what did Bill do last night while you were gone?"

  "He watched football on cable. And he told Mike that. He even gave Mike the highlights of the game, but Mike said that wasn't good enough, that Bill could have seen all that on the sports news."

  Hannah reached out to pat her sister's hand again. "We've got to prove that Bill stayed at home last night. Maybe one of your neighbors saw him. All it takes is one person who passed by the house and spotted him inside at the critical time."

  "I know. I already thought of that. I called everyone on the block this morning, but no one saw Bill."

  Hannah watched as Andrea twisted a paper napkin into a rope. Was she imagining that it was made of hemp and it was tightening around Mike's neck? Mike had been a friend, a confidant, and practically a member of the family. Hannah could understand why her sister felt betrayed.

  "Will you help, Hannah?"

  "Of course I will. Don't worry, Andrea."

  "I can't help it! The future looked so rosy yesterday. The new poll was out and Bill had a really good chance of beating Sheriff Grant in the election. But now that Sheriff Grant's been murdered, everything's changed for the worse. Now, by the time Little Billy is born, Bill might not have a job. And if Mike gets his way, he could be in jail for murder!"

  Hannah shook her head. "That'll never happen. I promise it won't."

  "But how do you know?"

  "I won't let it happen. Go home, Andrea. Bill's got to be feeling pretty rotten and none of this is his fault. That means he's going to need some tender loving care. I'll come over right after my catering job and we'll work out a game plan to clear him."

  "Okay." Andrea looked relieved that Hannah had given her something constructive to do. "What time is your catering?"

  "At noon. I should be at your house by one-thirty at the latest."

  "Perfect." Andrea levered herself to her feet. "I'll make us lunch. We'll have toasted peanut butter and jelly sandwiches."

  "Sounds good to me," Hannah said. Andrea was the world's worst cook, but making toasted peanut butter and jelly sandwiches didn't require a high level of culinary expertise.

  The rest of the morning was busy and space in the coffee shop was limited to standing room only. It took both Hannah and Lisa to wait on the crowd until the predictable lull came at shortly past eleven, when most Lake Eden residents decided it was too late for a morning cookie and too early for a lunch cookie. The moment the last patron had gone ou
t the door, Hannah motioned Lisa over to their favorite booth in the back and told her about Bill's suspension.

  "You're kidding!" Lisa gasped, her eyes wide with surprise. "Mike actually suspects Bill?"

  "That's what Andrea says. And it must be true because he put Bill on suspension."

  "But that's… that's… that's ridiculous!" Lisa sputtered.

  "Of course it is. I can't help hoping this is all a huge misunderstanding. But if it isn't…"

  "You're going to solve the case and clear Bill," Lisa interrupted. "Of course you will. What else can you do? You'll save him, Hannah."

  Hannah laughed. "You make me sound like Superwoman."

  "I guess," Lisa gave a slightly sheepish grin, "but you're good at investigating murders, Hannah. Everybody says so. And I don't want you to give a second thought to business. I'll take care of The Cookie Jar."

  Hannah reached out to pat her partner on the back. "I know you will. Sometimes you're just too good to be true, Lisa. Nobody can be that nice. I keep wondering if you don't have some kind of perfectly dreadful secret vice."

  "Like what?" Lisa looked intrigued.

  "I don't know. Give me a little time and I'll come up with something. In the meantime, see if you can figure out what Beatrice Koester's missing ingredient is. She called me again his morning, all worried that Alma's recipe won't go in the cookbook."

  "I'll work on it," Lisa promised. "I tried marshmallow cream last night, but that turned out to be a big gooey mess. Do you want me to help you load up?"

  "Load up?"

  "For the catering," Lisa explained. "You're due there in less than an hour."

  Hannah thunked her forehead with the heel of her hand. "Right. For a second there, I forgot all about it."

  "That's not surprising. You have a lot on your mind."

  "True," Hannah gave Lisa a smile. "I guess it's a really good thing that I live in a small town."

  "Why's that?"

  "Because even when I don't know what I'm doing, somebody else always does."

  Hannah had just stashed the last box of cookies inside her truck when Mike pulled up next to her and got out of his cruiser. He looked so handsome she had all she could do not to rush into his arms. But as much as she might like him to put his arms around her and kiss her, and she'd like that a whole lot, she had to remember that this was the man who had suspended Bill and practically accused him of murder.

  Mike took one look at her expression. "What's the matter? You look like someone just took away your favorite toy."

  "That figures," Hannah muttered under her breath. She still wanted Mike. Nothing could change that. But family loyalty came first. "How dare you suspend Bill! It's preposterous!"

  "You heard?"

  "You bet I heard!"

  "I didn't want to suspend him, Hannah, but I had to. Try to look at it from my point of view. Bill had a motive. Sheriff Grant was his opponent in the election and several people heard them arguing before Bill left the station last night. You know Barbara Donnelly, don't you? Sheriff Grant's secretary?"

  "I know her." Hannah had known Barbara Donnelly for years and Barbara didn't pull any punches. If she'd told Mike that Bill had argued with Sheriff Grant, then he had.

  "Barbara was sitting at her desk when Bill stormed out of Sheriff Grant's office and she heard Sheriff Grant shout, "You'll win over my dead body."

  Hannah gave an exasperated sigh. "That was just a figure of speech. I'm really surprised that Barbara took it seriously."

  "She didn't take it seriously. But she did say that both Bill and Sheriff Grant were pretty steamed up. If they met up later, tempers could have flared. Somebody was mad enough to bash in Sheriff Grant's head. And since Bill doesn't have an alibi for the time of the murder, I had no choice but to remove him from the investigation."

  Hannah had to admit that Mike had a point, but she wasn't about to tell him that. "You said that Bill had no alibi for the time of the murder. What time was Sheriff Grant killed?"

  "Between eight and nine-thirty."

  Hannah made a mental note of that and then she turned to face Mike squarely. "I'm really surprised at you, Mike. I thought partners always stuck together. Don't you have any loyalty to Bill?"

  "Of course I do!" Mike looked outraged at the question. "Bill's my best friend. You know that. But I have to put my personal feelings aside in a murder investigation. It's because Bill is my partner and my friend that I have to bend over backwards not to give him any preferential treatment. It's really important that I follow the rulebook on this one. And since I'm working it alone, it's not going to be easy."

  "You're working it alone?" Hannah was surprised. "Why didn't you pick one of the other deputies to help you?"

  "Because I can't trust anyone at the station except Lonnie Murphy and he won't be back for almost two weeks."

  Hannah was confused. "But why would you trust Lonnie and not any of the other deputies?"

  "Because Lonnie's the newest hire and Sheriff Grant always treated the new deputies well for the first six months. After that, the honeymoon was over."

  "What do you mean?"

  "At the end of six months, he started criticizing them. Sheriff Grant could be a real bear about protocol and almost everyone on the force had plenty of reasons to hate him."

  "Like what?"

  "Delayed promotions, denials of personal time off with pay, and ridiculously picky reprimands that kept them from getting their merit increases." Mike ticked them off on his fingers. "You must have heard this before, Hannah. Bill knew all about it. Sheriff Grant nailed him last year."

  "I remember," Hannah said. "Andrea told me that Bill got a reprimand for having his tie on crooked after an all-night stakeout."

  "That's exactly the sort of thing I'm talking about. I'm going through the files right now to check out those reprimands and most of them are bogus."

  "And you think someone might have killed Sheriff Grant over an unfair reprimand?"

  "Not really. I can't believe that any deputy would be mad enough to actually kill him, but it's my duty to check everyone out."

  Hannah's ears perked up. "You mean an internal investigation?"

  "That's right. And I could really use Bill's help. Cut me a little slack here, Hannah. Suspending Bill hurt me just as much as it hurt him."

  Hannah didn't dignify that statement with a response. Instead she just stared at Mike until he dropped his eyes.

  "Well…" Mike said, shifting from foot to foot. "I'd better run. I'll see you later."

  Not if I see you first! Hannah thought, not voicing the reply she would surely have given in junior high. She kept her lips zipped, waited until Mike had driven off, climbed into her cookie truck, and headed off to her catering job.

  Chapter Six

  It was after one in the afternoon when Hannah climbed back into her cookie truck. The catering had gone well and the event had been a success. Marge Beeseman signed up the volunteers she needed for her book drive, the ladies of the Friends of the Lake Eden Community Library loved the Cherry Winks, and Hannah managed to dodge a bullet with her mother. It was obvious that Delores didn't know about her son-in-law's suspension. And since Andrea hadn't yet broken the news, Hannah had decided that it wouldn't be nice to tell her and usurp her sister's position.

  Hannah took a deep breath as she pulled up in Andrea and Bill's driveway. This would take all her tact, and tact wasn't her long suit. Bill would be upset over his suspension and Andrea would be upset if Hannah offered one word of criticism about the lunch she'd prepared.

  Since Andrea's Volvo was in the driveway, Hannah parked her truck behind it and got out to press the front doorbell. She could hear the chimes ringing inside and she grinned. Andrea and Bill had one of the new musical doorbells and it was playing the first four bars of the Viking's fight song. Viking supporters were nothing if not loyal.

  When Andrea pulled open the door, she looked apologetic. "Sorry it took me so long. I was just finishing the toast."

&
nbsp; "Oh," Hannah said, stepping inside and sniffing the air.

  Carbon. Andrea had burned the toast. "Anything new I should know about?"

  "Nothing. Come on in, Hannah. Bill's in the kitchen waiting for you."

  Hannah followed her sister down the hallway and into the bright, sunny kitchen. When Andrea and Bill purchased this house, the kitchen had been a prime selling point. It was called a "gourmet kitchen" and Hannah envied the built-in double ovens, island stovetop with a barbecue grill in the center and padded benches around it on three sides for entertaining. It would be great fun to grill shish kabob appetizers while your guests watched. Even main courses would be more fun. There was a rotisserie attachment that allowed you to cook roasts or a whole chicken while your guests watched their entree turn slowly over the grill.

  Andrea's kitchen was truly ideal. To start with, it was huge, the size of most dining rooms and kitchens combined. There was an alcove for the round oak kitchen table and a rustic brick fireplace that made the huge room cheery. There was a fire in the fireplace now, and Hannah was almost positive that Bill had built it. Andrea didn't like to bother with a fire, because she seldom spent much time in the kitchen.

  Hannah spotted Bill at the window seat in front of the bay window that overlooked the tree-lined back yard. As she walked over to greet him, she thought again of what an attractive couple her brother-in-law and sister made. Andrea was gorgeous with her long blonde hair, china blue eyes, and petite figure. She even looked good now, when she was eight months pregnant. Bill was Andrea's exact opposite with dark brown hair, brown eyes, and a football quarterback's physique. Last year he had started to put on a little weight around the middle, but since he had been working out with Mike every morning, his spare tire had completely disappeared. "How are you doing, Bill?"

  "Okay, considering. Andrea said you've got some ideas."

  Hannah glanced over at her sister, but Andrea was busy assembling sandwiches at the counter. "Um… sure, I do. We'll figure something out, Bill. Don't worry."

  "Here's lunch!" Andrea announced, carrying a tray to the kitchen table. "We can talk about it after we eat."