Fudge Cupcake Murder hsm-5

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Fudge Cupcake Murder hsm-5 Page 7

by Joanne Fluke


  "That's what we were hoping you could tell us," Andrea chimed in. "Did Sheriff Grant have any enemies?"

  Nettie just stared at her for a moment and then she started to laugh, an incongruous reaction from a woman whose cheeks were wet with tears. She laughed until tears of mirth mingled with her tears of grief and then she stopped with a quivering sigh. "Yes," she said. "And we'll be here all night if I name all of them."

  Chapter Nine

  Hannah was in the middle of serving coffee and cookies to the St. Jude Society the following day, when Andrea came rushing into the basement of St. Peter's Catholic Church, almost mowing down Father Coultas in the process. She arrived at Hannah's side breathless, but there was a huge smile on her face. After a few gasps of air and a gulp of the water that Hannah handed her, Andrea was calm enough to speak. "Gus York found some notes he took on that timesharing call. He scribbled them on the back of his gas bill. The name of the company is ‘Fun in the Sun' and they're based out of Fort Lauderdale, Florida."

  "And you checked with them to see if they called your house?" Hannah asked, pouring a cup of coffee and handing it to Bridget Murphy.

  "Yes," Andrea answered, moving behind the catering table to pour tea for Immelda Giese, the housekeeper who had been with Father Coultas since the day he'd arrived in Lake Eden. "These cookies look great. What are they?"

  "Hannah's Bananas," Immelda told her. "Hannah made them just for me. Have one, dear. Bananas have potassium and they're good for you, especially when you're p.g."

  Andrea looked confused and Hannah nudged her. "Pregnant."

  "Oh. Right." Andrea reached out and took a cookie. "And Hannah made these just for you?"

  "That's right, dear. Father just loves my banana bread. I usually bake it for him every week, but we're waiting for a new oven in the parish house. When Hannah said she'd make banana cookies, we were thrilled."

  Andrea bit into the cookie and started to smile. "These are wonderful, Hannah."

  "They're almost as good as Immelda's banana bread," Hannah said diplomatically, and she noticed that the housekeeper looked pleased as she left the line to find a seat.

  The next few minutes were taken up with serving coffee and cookies, but soon the members of the St. Jude Society were content and Hannah and Andrea could talk.

  "So what did the people at Fun in the Sun tell you about calling Bill?" Hannah asked.

  "They're going to get back to me. The supervisor had to request the records and that might take overnight, but she should have them by tomorrow afternoon at the latest. She promised to call me on my cell phone the minute they came in."

  "Good work," Hannah said, smiling at her sister. If anyone else had told Hannah that a telephone solicitor would call with information, she wouldn't have believed it. But Andrea had a way of making people do whatever she wanted them to do. It wasn't simple manipulation, because everyone felt good about helping Andrea in the process.

  "These cookies are really good, Hannah." Andrea helped herself to a second cookie from the tray that Hannah had placed on the long table. "Are you baking them for Halloween?"

  "No, I want to come up with something a little more festive."

  "You did chocolate cookies with orange icing last year, didn't you?"

  Hannah nodded. "I'll do them again this year if I can't come up with anything else."

  "Speaking of Halloween," Andrea paused to grab another cookie, "Tracey wants to know if you're going to the Haunted Basement and the Halloween party at the community center."

  "Of course I'm going. I go every year."

  "Good. Tracey's all excited about her costume and she wanted to make sure you'll see it."

  "What is she going to be this year?" Hannah asked, knowing that her five-year-old niece would be cute in whatever costume she chose to wear.

  "She's still wavering between a fairy princess and a pirate."

  Hannah laughed. "What a difference! I'll bet she chooses the fairy princess."

  "Maybe, but she loves the parrot that goes with the pirate's costume. It sits on your shoulder and there's a little switch you can press to make it talk. All the fairy princess has is a wand and it doesn't even light up or anything."

  "The talking parrot is definitely a selling point," Hannah said gravely, filling the coffee carafe she used to make the rounds of the tables.

  "You go first with the coffee. I'll follow you with the hot water and tea bags. Then we can split up and pass the cookies."

  "Thanks, Andrea." Hannah was grateful. Catering was always easier with two people. "What does the parrot say?"

  "You know… Shiver my timbers! and, Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum! Piratey things like that. I think there's one about dead men on a chest or something like that."

  "Fifteen men on a dead man's chest."

  "That's right. And then it's, A drink for the devil and none for the rest!"

  "What was that about giving the devil a drink?" Father Coultas asked, coming up to the catering table just in time to hear Andrea's last comment.

  Andrea blushed slightly. "Sorry, Father Coultas. I was just telling Hannah about the talking parrot that conies with Tracey's pirate costume."

  "I've met that parrot," Father Coultas said. "Immelda's grandson rented that costume last year and the bird got stuck on ho. It just said ho, ho, ho over and over like some kind of deranged Santa Claus. It was driving poor Immelda crazy until I took the batteries out."

  When Hannah stepped into her kitchen with the cookies left over from her catering job, Lisa came barreling through the swinging door. "Thank goodness you're back, Hannah!"

  "What's wrong?" Hannah asked, noticing the high spots of color in Lisa's cheeks.

  "Nothing's wrong. I just overheard something you should know, that's all. Hold on a second. Herb's here and I'll ask him to mind the counter."

  Hannah poured herself a cup of coffee from the kitchen pot and sat down at the workstation. A moment later, Lisa rushed back in and sat down on an adjoining stool.

  "You said you overheard something?" Hannah prompted.

  "That's right. I kept my ears open, just the way you asked me to do, and I found out that Sheriff Grant and his wife had a big argument when he came home for lunch on Monday."

  Hannah's eyes widened. This could be the fight that Nettie had refused to discuss. "Andrea and I saw Nettie last night. She told us she'd fought with Sheriff Grant, but she wouldn't say what the fight was about. Who told you, Lisa?"

  "Kate Maschler, but she didn't exactly tell me. She told Becky Summers."

  "You were doing the invisible waitress trick?"

  "That's right. I was at the table next to theirs refilling coffee cups and they didn't even notice me. Kate told Becky that Nettie Grant followed the sheriff out to his car and she looked madder than Kate had ever seen her before. Kate opened her window in time to hear Nettie say that she was going to rent to them and she had a perfect right to do it since she'd inherited the duplex before they were married."

  "Sounds serious," Hannah commented. "What did Sheriff Grant say to that?"

  "He said he was sick of hearing about it and Nettie should drop it, that there was no way he'd have them under his roof."

  "Who's them?"

  "I don't know. That's when Kate and Becky pushed back their chairs and left. Do you think it's important, Hannah?"

  "It could be," Hannah said, thinking about it. If Nettie had promised to rent half of the duplex to someone and Sheriff Grant went to tell the people they couldn't move in, it might have resulted in a fight that escalated to murder.

  "I think you should run next door, Hannah. When they were leaving, I heard Becky say she had to find the right dress to wear to her nephew's wedding. They probably went straight to Claire's shop."

  Hannah headed for the door. Visiting Mother and Carrie's shop was one thing, but she didn't need any urging to visit her neighbor on the other side. Claire Rodgers was a good friend and she wanted an update on Claire's romance with Reverend Knudson, the Lutheran
minister.

  A chill wind was blowing as Hannah dashed across her parking lot and knocked at the rear door of Beau Monde Fashions. She heard the far-off sound of geese honking as they migrated south for the winter and she glanced up at the battleship-gray sky. A ragged vee was just disappearing over the tops of the pines that lined both sides of Third Street. The songbirds had already left and now the geese were bailing for the winter. Soon only the winter birds would be left, bright blue Jays, vivid red Cardinals, and glowing green and yellow Nuthatches sitting high in the pines like jewels amidst the branches.

  "Hannah?" Claire looked both pleased and surprised as she opened her back door. "Come in. It's cold out there."

  "I know. Do you have customers?"

  "Not a soul. It's been a slow afternoon."

  "I'm sorry to hear that," Hannah commiserated. The financial life of a small business owner was often touch and go.

  "Oh, it's all right. The morning was very good and Becky Summers was just in. She bought three dresses."

  "How's Reverend Knudson?"

  "He's just fine, Hannah." Claire's smile was positively beatific. "He's also very persuasive. He's going to announce our engagement the Sunday before Christmas."

  "You said yes!" Hannah grinned at her friend. With one failed romance behind her, Claire had finally found a man she could love and trust.

  "You'll be there for the announcement, won't you, Hannah?"

  "I wouldn't miss it for the world," Hannah promised. She knew Claire was nervous about the congregation's reaction to the engagement. Although no one except Hannah, Andrea, and Norman knew for sure, everyone in town suspected that Claire had at one time been Mayor Bascomb's mistress. "If anyone gives you a rough time about it, just let me know and I'll cut them off from cookies for life."

  Claire laughed, but she sobered quickly. "You know? I believe you would. You're a good friend, Hannah."

  "I'm a good friend who wants to pump you for information," Hannah amended it. "You've heard about Bill, haven't you?"

  "Of course, and the whole thing is absurd. You're trying to clear him?"

  "Yes. Did Kate and Becky mention the fight that Sheriff Grant had with his wife?"

  "They mentioned it."

  "Did they happen to drop the name of the renters Nettie wanted for the duplex?"

  Claire shook her head. "I don't think they knew. They were speculating about it while Becky was trying on dresses. Kate said it had to be someone with a child."

  "Really?" Hannah's ears perked up. This was grist for the sleuthing mill. "Why did Kate think that?"

  "Because right before Sheriff Grant drove off, he rolled down his window and shouted out that he wouldn't have that child under his roof. Except he didn't say child."

  "What did he say?"

  "I don't know, but it must have been bad because Kate said she wouldn't repeat it."

  "How about you, Claire? Do you have any idea who the disputed renters could be?"

  "They could be Nettie's relatives. Last year, she asked my advice on finding a Christmas present for a little girl. I told her about The Pink Giraffe in Anoka, but I warned her that their things were expensive. She said that didn't matter, that it was for family and she wanted to buy something special."

  Hannah was impressed. Claire had put two facts together and come up with a very good clue. "Do you happen to know what she bought?"

  "Yes, I do. She told me all about it the next time she came in. She said she found a child's chair that looked like a seated plush bear and The Pink Giraffe had shipped it free the week before Christmas."

  Hannah thanked Claire for her help and headed out the back door, racing across the parking lot and into her own warm kitchen. Once she'd washed her hands and put on the apron she used to serve customers, she pushed through the door to the coffee shop and hurried to the counter to relieve Lisa.

  "Oh, Hannah! Thank goodness you're back!"

  Hannah noticed the distressed expression on Lisa's face. "What's wrong?"

  "It's your mother. She's called six times in the past twenty minutes."

  "Uh-oh," Hannah sighed. No wonder Lisa looked distraught. "Take a break, Lisa. I'll man the counter for a while."

  Lisa shook her head. "I don't need a break. I just need you to run to Granny's Attic and talk to your mother before she calls here again. She sounded really suspicious the last time she called. I swear she thinks I'm hiding you in the pantry."

  "Okay. I'm going." Hannah hung up her apron and dashed out the front door, ducking into the next storefront. The bell tinkled as she pushed open the door and Delores looked up from her position behind the antique counter.

  "Hannah! Well, it's about time! Come with me."

  Before Hannah had time to do more than blink, Delores came around the counter, took her hand, and dragged her up the stairs to the room they used for coffee breaks.

  "Sit down, Hannah. I want an explanation!"

  "Of what?" Hannah was thoroughly confused.

  "Why didn't you tell me yesterday, when we met at the library? A mother shouldn't be the last one in town to know!"

  Hannah thought fast. It was obvious that her mother had found out about Bill's suspension. "I would have told you yesterday, but it wasn't my place. I knew Andrea wanted to be the one to break the news to you."

  "Oh. That's different." The hard expression in Delores's eyes softened. "I do wish Andrea had told me sooner, but I suppose the poor dear was probably trying to spare my feelings."

  "I'm sure that's it, Mother," Hannah managed to choke out the words.

  "Poor Bill!" Delores sighed and shook her head. "Poor Andrea! And in her condition, too! Can't you talk some sense into Mike? Surely he doesn't actually believe that Bill killed anyone!"

  "I tried, Mother. I talked to Mike about it yesterday, but he wouldn't budge an inch. He's as stubborn as an ox."

  "Well… I'm glad you found that out now. Just think how terrible this would be if you were married to him."

  "I don't think there's any danger of that, at least not right now," Hannah said under her breath.

  "What was that, dear?"

  "Nothing, Mother. Just thinking out loud."

  "At least you've been warned about Mike's true nature. That's certainly worth something."

  "True."

  "Andrea said that you're going to investigate. I want to help you, dear. What would you like me to do?"

  Hannah was about to say she'd have to think about it when she realized that she did have something Delores could do. She needed to find out who'd received that stuffed bear chair from the Pink Giraffe and her mother was the perfect person to find out for her.

  "What is it, dear? You thought of something, didn't you?"

  "Yes, and here's the situation," Hannah said. And then she proceeded to tell her mother all about the fight Nettie'd had with Sheriff Grant on the day of his death and the fact that Nettie had wanted to rent to a family with a little girl. She explained about the Christmas present Nettie had ordered from the Pink Giraffe and then she asked the important question. "Do you think you can find out who got that present?"

  "Why of course I can!" Delores sounded pleased at being asked. "But why don't you just ask Nettie?"

  "I don't think it'll do any good. I already asked her about the fight. She said it was personal and she didn't want to talk about it."

  Delores shrugged. "You struck out, dear. If Nettie says she doesn't want to talk about something, wild horses couldn't drag it out of her. But finding out about the present should be no problem. They know me at the Pink Giraffe. It's where I get most of Tracey's gifts."

  "Could you call right now and ask?"

  "I could, but it would be better for me to go there in person. It's much more difficult to say no face-to-face."

  "You're right. Could you take a couple hours off this afternoon and drive there?"

  Delores shook her head. "I could, but it won't do any good. They're closed during the day on Wednesdays. They open at seven this evening,
but I can't go there tonight."

  "Why not?"

  "Because I have… plans."

  "Oh?" Hannah waited a moment, but her mother didn't elaborate. "What kind of plans, Mother?"

  "Personal plans."

  Hannah digested that answer and when no more elaboration was forthcoming, she began to worry. "Is there something wrong, Mother?"

  "Like what, dear?"

  "Like… your personal plans don't include a visit to Doc Knight, do they?"

  "Of course not!" Delores gave a little laugh. "If I get sick, you'll be the first to know about it. This is just something… personal. And I don't want to discuss it."

  Hannah took one look at her mother's set face and knew she'd get nowhere by further probing. Delores could rival Nettie in the wild-horses-couldn't-drag-it-out-of-her department. Rather than annoy her mother with more questions, Hannah switched gears. "Will you be able to drive to The Pink Giraffe tomorrow?"

  "Yes. I'll pick up Tracey after morning kindergarten and take her with me."

  Hannah started to grin. "That might not be a good idea, Mother. It could be dangerous."

  "What do you mean? How could going to a children's store be dangerous?"

  "Oh, it won't be dangerous for you or Tracey personally," Hannah said, her smile growing wider. "But taking Tracey inside could put your credit cards in jeopardy."

  Delores laughed. "You're right, dear. But Granny's Attic is doing very well and I can afford to indulge my only granddaughter a bit. Did Claire tell you what Nettie bought?"

  "Yes, a child's chair shaped like a seated plush bear and she had it delivered in time for Christmas."

  "I'm sure I can…" There was a crash outside the door and Delores stopped in mid-sentence. "What was that?"

  "I don't know. It sounded like someone dropped something heavy that rolled…"

  "Sorry." Luanne Hanks, Delores and Carrie's assistant, stuck her head in the doorway. "I was carrying a brass umbrella stand and I tripped. Don't worry. It's not damaged. I checked."

  Delores walked over to put her arm around Luanne's shoulders. "I don't care about the umbrella stand. I'm much more concerned about you. You're shaking, Luanne. And you're as pale as a ghost. Are you hurt?"

 

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