Blueberry Muffin Murder

by Joanne Fluke

  “We’ll talk to her. Thanks, Sally.”

  After Sally had left on her rounds again, Hannah filled Andrea’s plate and headed back to the bar. She got there just as Andrea was slipping her cell phone back into her purse. “Any luck?”

  “No. I called everyone we hung around with in high school, and no one’s seen Janie. They didn’t even know she was in town. I think she must have left Lake Eden.”

  Hannah hoisted herself up on the bar stool and set the plate she’d filled in front of her sister. “Sally just gave me a possible lead.”

  Andrea sliced open a biscuit, spread it with butter and apricot jam, and slipped in a slice of ham. She took a bite and smiled. “Just let me finish eating and we’ll go follow up on it.”

  Hannah bit her tongue to keep from voicing the comment that popped into her head. If they waited for Andrea to finish eating, Janie would have time to get halfway around the world in a rowboat.

  They found Alex in the kitchen, taking her coffee break. After they had introduced themselves and told her that Sally had sent them, Hannah asked her about Janie.

  “Yes, I know Janie.” Alex looked a bit worried. “Is anything wrong?”

  Hannah smiled to reassure her. She’d found that she learned much more when she didn’t alarm the people she questioned. “Janie’s a good friend of ours. Andrea went to high school with her.”

  “Of course.” Alex turned to Andrea with a smile. “I didn’t connect the name at first. You’re her best friend and you married the handsome quarterback. Janie flew back here for your wedding and she caught your bridal bouquet.”

  Andrea smiled back. “That’s right. Bill helped me practice for a solid week and I pegged it straight at her.”

  “How did you meet Janie?” Hannah pressed on before Andrea could ask what else Janie had said about her wedding.

  “One of the maids called in sick the day she checked in, and I took some fresh towels up to her room. She’s a lovely girl.”

  “Then you didn’t know her before she checked in at the inn?”

  Alex shook her head. “We just got to talking and we discovered that we had a lot in common.”

  “Like what?” Hannah asked.

  “Just a lot of little things. Janie’s crazy about old musicals and so am I. Our favorite dessert is coffee ice cream with chocolate sauce, we do crossword puzzles to relax, and we both like to read biographies. Janie says we’re birds of a feather.”

  “Do you happen to know where Janie went when she left the inn last night?” Hannah asked.

  “I didn’t see her at all last night. Why? Is there something wrong?”

  Hannah started to shake her head, but then she reconsidered. If Alex was a friend, she deserved to know the situation. “We’re not sure. Janie packed up all her things last night and left.”

  “She did?” Alex was clearly surprised. “Do you know why?”

  “We think she might have had a fight with Connie Mac,” Andrea answered the question.

  “That’s possible. I was at the desk when Mrs. MacIntyre left, and she stomped out of here in a huff. Janie came down a minute or two later and I asked her why she wasn’t riding in the limo. She said that Mrs. MacIntyre had told her to take her own car and that she was in a nasty mood.”

  “Do you think Janie quit?” Andrea asked.

  “Oh, no. Janie needed her job and she’s not a quitter. Mrs. MacIntyre probably fired her again.”

  Andrea’s mouth opened, and Hannah sent her a warning glance. It snapped shut again and Hannah turned back to Alex. “You said again. Was Janie fired before?”

  “Oh, yes. But she said it was never more than a few hours before Mrs. MacIntyre would call to rehire her.”

  “Why would she go back to a job like that?” Hannah was amazed.

  “That’s exactly what I asked her.” Alex gave a little laugh. “And Janie said that Mrs. MacIntyre was the only fly in the ointment. She loved her job and she really liked all the people on the staff.”

  “How about Mr. MacIntyre?” Hannah glanced at her sister, but Andrea’s mouth was glued shut.

  “She absolutely adored him. She said he was a saint for putting up with his wife all these years, and that he deserved a lot better.”

  Hannah almost groaned aloud. She didn’t think that Janie and Paul had been more than friends, but Bill and Mike would put a very different spin on Alex’s answer.

  “Janie never goes along to the book signings,” Alex went on, “and we were going to get together this afternoon. I hope Mrs. MacIntyre called to rehire her this morning.”

  “She didn’t,” Hannah said, not relishing the task of telling someone else that Connie Mac was dead.

  “But why? She needs Janie. No one else can put up with her. She went through twelve assistants the year before Janie came on board.”

  “I’m sure she would have called Janie,” Andrea said, taking over, “but that was impossible. Connie Mac died last night.

  Alex’s eyes widened. “She’s dead? Why didn’t anyone tell me? I thought her face was awfully red when she left yesterday afternoon, but I figured she was just angry. Was it her heart?”

  Hannah clamped her lips shut to keep from saying, Of course not. Connie Mac didn’t have a heart. Andrea had barged in and now she could deal with telling Alex how Connie Mac had died.

  “Well…actually…” Andrea shot her sister a pleading glance, but Hannah pretended not to notice. “It was a little more serious than that. Connie Mac was…uh…killed.”

  “You mean murdered?” Alex gasped and her face turned pale.

  Hannah looked over at Andrea. She still had that pleading look on her face. Andrea, the smooth talker who could handle any situation, needed to be bailed out.

  “The police think it’s murder, but it could be an accident,” Hannah explained. “That’s why we need to find Janie. She was with Connie Mac last night and we want to ask her what happened.”

  “Do the police think that Janie killed Connie Mac and ran away?” Alex looked sick at the thought.

  Hannah took over. “They think it’s possible. That’s why we want to find her before they do. We want to help her.”

  Alex sat there quietly for a moment, and Hannah noticed that her hands were trembling. “I’d help you if I could, but I really don’t know where Janie’s gone.”

  “If she calls you, will you tell us?” Hannah asked.

  “Yes, I will.”

  Andrea pulled out one of her cards and handed it to Alex. “Here’s my cell phone number. Call me anytime, day or night.”

  “I will.” Alex took the card and slipped it into her apron pocket. Then she blinked, and Hannah could see that she was fighting tears. “Just find her, please. And tell me the minute you do. Poor Janie must be so frightened, out there all alone.”

  There was nothing else to say, and Hannah motioned to Andrea. They had other people to see. It wasn’t until they had left the kitchen that she asked the question that had been hovering in her mind ever since they’d concluded their interview. “Don’t you think that Alex’s reaction was a little strange?”

  “What reaction?”

  “When we told her that Janie was missing, her hands started to tremble. And when she asked us to hurry and find her, she was blinking back tears.”

  “That’s not so strange,” Andrea objected. “She was concerned.”

  “I realize that, but don’t you think it was a little out of proportion?”

  “Not really. I feel exactly the same way. Every time I think about how lonely and scared Janie must be, I get tears in my eyes.”

  “So do I, but we’ve known Janie all our lives. Alex only met her five days ago.”

  “Oh.” Andrea was silent for a long moment. “You’re right. What does it mean?”

  “I’m not sure, but I think we’d better find out. Let’s go to the lobby and plan our strategy.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Hannah led Andrea into the lobby and they took two overstuffed chairs next
to the massive granite fireplace. It was as far from the desk as they could get, and they had the huge room all to themselves.

  “Sally told me the granite slabs for the fireplace came from Cold Spring,” Andrea informed her. “F. E. Laughlin used local granite and he had it carved with his own designs. Isn’t it beautiful?”

  “It’s certainly impressive,” Hannah said, deciding not to risk further comment. With murder foremost on her mind, the three-dimensional angels that appeared to be emerging from the gray-veined surface reminded her of headstones in a graveyard.

  Andrea inched a little closer to the blaze that was burning in the grate and then unzipped her leather-bound organizer. “What do you want me to do first?”

  “Go talk to Francine.” Hannah found the page of notes she’d taken when they talked to Sally. “Find out what she knows about the fight that Connie Mac had with Kurt Howe. Then ask her opinion of the reporter who wrote the story about the ghost.”

  Andrea jotted it down with her gold Cross pen. “Do you really think he might have murdered Connie Mac to add excitement to his ghost story?”

  “Not really, but it’s something we have to rule out. And don’t forget to ask if Francine knows Janie.”

  “You want me to ask everyone about Janie, don’t you?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “I’m writing down a series of questions,” Andrea said, her pen flying swiftly across the page. “I want to know the last time they saw her, any friends she talked about, and whether she ever mentioned a particular place she liked to go, like a hotel or a resort.”

  “That’s a very good idea.” Hannah was impressed. Andrea seemed to have the questions about Janie covered.

  “Then I’ll ask them to put themselves in Janie’s place and tell me where they think she might…” Andrea stopped speaking and stood up. “My phone’s ringing.”

  “I didn’t hear anything.”

  “I switched it to vibrate so it wouldn’t disturb us. Maybe it’s Alex. We asked her to phone if Janie called.”

  Hannah thought that was a little too much to hope for, but she was on full alert as Andrea retrieved her cell phone and answered the call.

  “Hello?” There was a pause and then Andrea smiled. “Hi, honey.”

  It had to be Bill, and Hannah settled back in her chair. Tracey was the only other person Andrea would call “honey.”

  “Of course Hannah’s with me. We’re out here at the inn. Sally said she could bake out here. Do you want to talk to her?”

  Hannah reached out for the phone, but Andrea shook her head. She listened for another few moments and then she started to smile. “That’s just great, honey. I’ll see you in about half an hour.”

  “That was Bill,” Andrea said, pressing a button and dropping the phone back into her coat pocket.

  “I gathered that.”

  “They’re on their way out here and they’re bringing all your cookie dough.”

  Hannah gave a huge sigh of relief. Once she had her cookie dough, today’s baking would be a snap. “Let’s get our things together and go talk to Earl Flensburg about the man Connie Mac fired. I saw him drive in, and he should be finishing his first cup of coffee about now.”

  “Too bad Ray didn’t wait a day to tell her what happened.” Earl picked up the remainder of his glazed doughnut and stared at it thoughtfully. He was a bear of a man, and his quilted orange parka with the Winnetka County Towing Service insignia on the right front breast pocket made him look even larger than he was.

  Hannah guessed what was on his mind. “Because then she wouldn’t have had the chance to fire him?”

  “Yeah. I should call him to tell him what happened, but I never got his number. Didn’t get his last name either, come to think about it. We just need the owner’s name for the form.”

  “Sally told us the accident wasn’t his fault,” Hannah prompted.

  “That’s right. A semi spun out in front of him and he took the ditch to avoid it. The van was fine, if you don’t count the sissy color. Not a scratch on it.”

  “So the only thing damaged was Connie Mac’s cake?” Andrea asked.

  “That’s about the size of it. Ray was fine, too, but he was shook up bad. I told him to sit in the rig while I hooked up. His face was as white as that snowbank he hit.”

  “Were you there when he called Connie Mac?” Hannah asked, even though Sally had already told her. It was always better to get things firsthand.

  “You betcha. I let him make the call from my rig. He had the phone up to his ear real tight, but I could still hear her yelling at him.”

  “Connie Mac wasn’t exactly known for her sweet disposition.” Hannah ventured a small grin. “Didn’t Ray tell her that he couldn’t avoid the accident?”

  “’Course he did, but it didn’t count for a hill of beans with her. Guess I should say I’m sorry she’s dead, but I’m not. She was real nasty to Ray.”

  “From what we hear, she was nasty to a lot of people,” Andrea commented.

  “Doesn’t surprise me. But chickens come home to roost, you know?”

  “That’s what they say,” Hannah agreed. “Do you think those chickens had any help from Ray?”

  “No way!” Earl shook his head emphatically. “All Ray wanted to do was crawl home with his tail between his legs. I seen enough people in my life to know he wasn’t the killer type. Besides, he was nowhere near here last night.”

  “Are you sure?” Hannah asked, not willing to rule out Connie Mac’s driver solely on Earl’s assessment of his character.

  “Sure, I’m sure. After she fired him, I dropped him out at the Quick Stop so’s he could catch the bus home.”

  “Do you know where he lives?” Andrea asked the next question.

  “Can’t say as I do. He lives with his folks, though. He told me that. Hope they weren’t too mad at him for losing his job. From my way of thinking, it was the best thing that ever happened to him. A clean-looking kid like Ray’s gonna get another job real fast.”

  “Clean-looking?” Hannah prompted.

  “Dark hair cut short, a real nice smile, and a polite way of talking. He called me ‘sir,’ and hardly nobody does that. Said he wanted to go to college, but he had to work for a year first.”

  “He does sound nice,” Hannah commented. “What time did you drop him off at the Quick Stop?”

  “I got my next call at four-thirty, and that was right after I dropped him off.” Earl’s eyes narrowed and he stared at Hannah suspiciously. “You gonna go check to make sure Ray got on that bus, even after I told you he couldn’t have killed her?”

  Hannah hesitated. She didn’t want to hurt Earl’s feelings, but she wasn’t going to lie, either.

  Andrea stepped in. “I think we should go out there and check. If Hannah and I can prove that Ray got on that bus, the police won’t have to bring him back here to question him.”

  Earl thought it over for a minute. “That’s a good idea. If the police drag Ray all the way back here, it would just about kill a sensitive kid like him. You girls go check. And tell Sean and Don I sent you.”

  Hannah stood in Sally’s kitchen and watched as Bill and Mike carried in her cookie dough. There were thirty-five bowls, each covered with plastic wrap. The Winter Carnival guests wouldn’t have to go hungry for cookies this afternoon.

  Mike placed the bowl he was carrying on Sally’s stainless-steel counter and turned to Bill. “Is that all?”

  “I think so. I’ll go back out and check.”

  “I really appreciate this, Bill,” Hannah said, addressing her brother-in-law and pointedly ignoring Mike.

  Mike’s eyebrows shot up, but he didn’t say anything until Bill had gone back out to the cruiser. Then he turned to Hannah with a frown. “Come on, Hannah. I know how hard it is for you to be locked out of your shop, but I was just doing my job.”

  “Some job!” Hannah muttered, but she had to admit he had a point. Perhaps it was time to lighten up a little and see what information she c
ould weasel out of him.

  “I don’t like it when you’re mad at me. How long am I going to be in the doghouse, anyway?”

  The note in Mike’s voice made Hannah fight back a grin. He sounded like a petulant little boy who’d just been told he couldn’t have dessert until he finished his vegetables.

  “Was that a smile?”

  “It was the ghost of a smile,” Hannah admitted. “And speaking of ghosts…”

  “I heard all about it from Sheriff Grant. He said he got a call from someone who thought we should put Ezekiel’s ghost on our suspect list.”

  “Sheriff Grant didn’t take that seriously, did he?”

  “No, not at first. Then I pointed out that the killer could have started the ghost story as a diversion to throw us off the track.”

  Hannah was impressed. She hadn’t thought of that angle. “Then you’re going to investigate the ghost?”

  “It sounds a little crazy when you put it like that, but yes. If we find the person who started the ghost story, it could lead us to the killer.”

  Hannah bit back the urge to tell Mike who’d written the ghost story and why, but he’d told her not to interfere with his investigation, so he could figure it out by himself. “Any news about Janie?”

  “No. You’re not trying to find her, are you?”

  “No,” Hannah said, and it was the truth. They hadn’t even started their search for Janie yet. “Did Doc Knight tell you when Connie Mac was killed?”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  Mike looked suspicious, and Hannah knew she had to give him a reason that had nothing to do with her investigation. “I have a vested interest. She was killed in my pantry, and something like that doesn’t happen every day.”

  “I guess it can’t hurt to tell you. Doc said the murder weapon was a heavy, rounded object, and she was killed between ten and midnight.”

  “From ten to midnight,” Hannah repeated, and then she began to frown. “I just thought of something. Connie Mac must have been in the habit of staying out all night.”

  Mike looked surprised at her comment. “What makes you think that?”