by Joanne Fluke
“Thanks, Lisa. I’m really tempted.” Hannah sat down on the stool at the end of the work island and thought about a day off. She could go home, brush Moishe, watch a little television, and call in a million times to find out what was happening. It was better to stay here, in the thick of things. “Thanks for offering, but I wouldn’t rest anyway.”
“Okay, but if you change your mind, just let me know. What do you want me to bake when I finish with the Black and Whites?”
“The Old-Fashioned Sugar Cookies,” Hannah answered. “They should be chilled by then. There’s only one batch of dough.”
“Do you want me to roll them in white sugar, or mixed?”
“Just white. When they’re cool, pick out a dozen of the best and pack them for shipping. I promised to send a sample box to the Woodleys’ caterer.”
Lisa looked pleased. “New business?”
“Maybe. You haven’t said anything about the party. Did you have a good time?”
“It was fantastic, Hannah. I’ve never been to such a fancy party before. It’s just too bad that we had to leave early.”
“Herb was called out to the accident scene?”
“No, but he thought he should go anyway. I had him drop me off at home before he went out there. I didn’t feel like staying at the party alone. He called me later and he said it was a miracle no one had been killed. Seventeen cars! Can you imagine that?”
“Unfortunately, I can. I’d better go up front, Lisa. It’s almost time to open.”
As she went through the swinging door, Hannah thought about the massive car pileup she’d almost joined on the interstate last year. All it took was one patch of ice, a lapse in judgment, and several drivers following too closely. She’d taken the shoulder to avoid hitting the huge Red Owl grocery truck ahead of her and she’d considered herself fortunate to wind up in a soft snowy ditch.
It was a dark morning and Hannah switched on the lights. She wasn’t looking forward to the dark winter season with sunrise at nine and sunset at four. It was even worse for people like Phil Plotnik, who worked the night shift at DelRay Manufacturing. It was dark when he went to work, dark when he came home from work, and if the sun didn’t shine on the weekends, he missed out completely.
A car pulled up in front of the shop and Hannah recognized Bill’s old clunker. She hurried to unlock the door and scanned Bill’s face in the light flooding out of the windows as he walked up to the door. He was smiling and Hannah was relieved. Bill wasn’t the type to hold a grudge and it was clear that he’d forgiven her for involving his wife in her sleuthing last night.
“Hi, Hannah.” Bill came in and hung up his coat on the strip of hooks near the door. “I found out about that rental car that Andrea’s client saw. The name of the company is Compacts Unlimited.”
Hannah ducked behind the counter to pour Bill a mug of coffee. “I’ve never heard of them.”
“They’re a small outfit. Their main office is in Minneapolis and they’ve got a total of fourteen lots all over the state. I talked to the woman in charge of reservations. She said their office didn’t rent to anybody with a Lake Eden address, but she’s sending me a printout of everyone who’s rented from them in the past two weeks.”
“When?”
“ASAP. She doesn’t know how to gather the data from the other locations, but she said she’d call in their computer expert.”
“So you’ll have it today?”
“That’s doubtful. The computer guy went away for the weekend, but she’s trying to find him.” Bill’s gaze shifted toward the cookies behind the counter. “Are those Chocolate Chip Crunches?”
Hannah nodded and set out two cookies for him. This wasn’t the time to remind him that he should probably watch his weight. “Did you get a chance to look at the files that were in Max’s old safe?”
“Mmm.” Bill swallowed. “Max made a lot of loans to a lot of people. Some of them were old, but I found about ten active ones. That’s ten more suspects I’m going to have to check out.”
Hannah shook her head. “I think that’s a waste of time. If someone shot Max to get his loan papers, he wouldn’t have left them behind.”
“Good point. What do you think I should do with them?”
“Make a list of the names and then lock them up in the evidence room.”
Bill looked confused. “Why should I make a list of the names when none of those people are suspects?”
“So that you can check them against any gossip we hear. If somebody talks about one of Max’s active loans and it’s not on your list, it could point to the killer.”
“That’s very clever, Hannah. I’ll do it just as soon as I get to the station. Did you think of anything else that I should do?”
“Not really, but at least we’ve got a theory.”
“Is it the same one you told me about the other night?”
“Absolutely. I was watching Klute and that’s what gave me the idea. We’ll know if it’s right just as soon as the ballistics reports come back.”
“That’ll take a while, but I talked to Doc Knight this morning. He’s got a good eye and he told me that it looked like the same type of bullet that killed Ron.”
Hannah laughed. “I could have told him that!”
“Me too. Lake Eden’s too small to have more than one murderer. Tell me your theory again, Hannah. I want to see if everything fits.”
Hannah poured a mug of coffee for herself and sat down on the stool behind the counter. “Ron saw Max meeting with the killer at six-fifteen on Wednesday morning. After Ron left, the killer shot Max. The killer was afraid that once Max’s body was found, Ron would put two and two together and identify him. That’s why he tracked Ron down and shot him.”
“But didn’t the woman with the pink lipstick say that they weren’t followed?”
“She did, but that doesn’t rule anything out. Don’t forget that Ron’s route was posted on the wall right outside Betty’s office. The killer could have checked it and caught up with him later.”
“That makes sense.” Bill took another bite of his cookie and chewed thoughtfully. “Then you’re saying that Ron was killed just because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time?”
“That’s it. If Ron hadn’t gone into the dairy to pick up that extra box of Cozy Cow pens, he’d be alive today.”
Bill winced. “Talk about bad luck! Are you sure that Max was killed because of a loan he made?”
“I’m not sure of anything, but it makes the most sense. The safe in the old dairy was open, but there’s no way we can tell if anything is missing. I doubt that even Betty knows what was inside.”
“She doesn’t.” Bill looked smug. “I called her this morning to ask. She told me that Max was the only one with the combination and she’d never even seen him open it. They kept all the cash from the dairy in the new safe that’s in her office.”
“How’s Betty holding up?”
“She’ll be all right. She’s usually off on the weekends, but she said she’s going in anyway, that someone needs to be there to answer the employees’ questions and handle the phones. You got to hand it to her, Hannah. Betty was really upset when I told her about Max, but she’s going to put her personal grief aside and keep on handling things just the way Max would have wanted her to, even if it means working overtime.”
Hannah couldn’t hide her grin. There was no way that Betty would miss this weekend at the dairy, and it wasn’t for any altruistic reasons. Betty was happiest when she could hear all the gossip firsthand, and the phones would be ringing off the hook. “Did she tell you anything else?”
“She gave me the name of Max’s lawyer and I checked with him to see who’d inherit. That’s another good motive, you know.”
“You’re right, Bill. I didn’t even think of that. What did the lawyer say?”
“Max left everything to his nephew in Idaho. The lawyer is going to contact him today and get his instructions.”
“How about those footprints on
the carpet? Were you able to tell anything about the killer from them?”
“Not really. They photographed them as part of the crime scene, but there weren’t any clear impressions.”
“How about the W in Max’s appointment book? Do you have any leads on that?”
Bill shook his head and held out his mug for a refill. “I went through all the files, but there weren’t any W names. And we don’t know if the W is a last name, a first name, or a nickname. Once we get a suspect, we can use it as part of the circumstantial evidence, but it’s pretty hard to narrow down now.”
The phone rang and Hannah reached out to answer it. “The Cookie Jar. This is Hannah.”
“Hannah. I’m glad I caught you. This is Norman.”
“Hi, Norman.” Hannah frowned slightly. She didn’t want to get involved in another lengthy phone conversation when this might be her only chance to talk to Bill all day. “What’s up?”
“I developed the film of the party. I can bring in the prints at noon if you’ll be there.”
“I work here. Where else would I be?” The moment the words had left her mouth, Hannah realized that she’d been too abrupt. Norman was only trying to be nice. And if Norman came in at noon, she’d be able to give him his mother’s loan papers. “Sorry, Norman. I’m really in a rush here. I’ll see you at noon and I’ll save a couple of my best cookies for you.”
When Hannah hung up, she noticed that Bill was grinning. “What?”
“Did Norman just ask you out on another date?”
“No, he just wants to show me the pictures from the party.” Hannah decided to change the subject fast. Bill’s expression was a lot like her mother’s when she played matchmaker. “Norman’s just a friend, so get that idea right out of your head. Tell me more about this new detective from Minneapolis. I don’t even know his name.”
“Mike Kingston. I talked to his former partner and he says that Mike’s a great cop and a really nice guy.”
“You haven’t met him yet?”
Bill shook his head. “No, but I saw his picture in the personnel file. He looks like a nice guy. I told you about his wife, didn’t I?”
“You said she died and that’s why he wanted to move here.”
“Well, I found out more. She was a nurse and she was shot on her way home from Hennepin County General. Two rival gangs mixed it up and she got caught in the crossfire. But that’s not the worst of it. She was four months pregnant with their first baby.”
“That’s awful!” Hannah shivered. “Did they catch the shooter?”
“Of course they did. They had the whole squad working on it. But the first time they tried him, he got off on a technicality. Somebody messed up with a search warrant, and the judge threw the case out of court.”
“They tried him a second time?” Hannah didn’t understand what Bill was saying. Wasn’t that double jeopardy?
“They nailed him on a different murder. Mike and his partner worked the case themselves. They made sure that everything was done by the book and they got a conviction. The guy’s doing a life sentence with no parole.”
“That’s good. But I bet this Mike Kingston is going to be a real stickler for police procedure.”
“Sounds like it. He’s going to be my new supervisor and I’m really going to have to watch it around him. Andrea’s going to help me go over all my reports tonight to make sure they’re perfect.”
“I’ll help, too, if you need me,” Hannah offered quickly. “When does he start?”
“First thing Monday morning. He already rented an apartment and he drove his U-Haul down early this morning. I’m off tomorrow, and I’m going to help him move in.”
Hannah couldn’t resist teasing him a little. “You figure that hauling boxes and lifting a few brewskis together will help your working relationship?”
“It can’t hurt. When we’re through, we’re going to come back to my place for dinner.”
“Andrea is cooking?” Hannah’s eyebrows shot up. Her sister was the only person she knew who couldn’t even make decent instant coffee.
“No way!” Bill chuckled. “We’re sending out for pizzas. Why don’t you drive out and join us? You don’t have anything else going for tomorrow night, do you?”
“Well, I was planning to…” Hannah’s mind spun into overdrive, searching for an excuse.
“Come on, Hannah. Maybe you can get some insights into his character and pass them along to me.”
Bill put on the look that Hannah had never been able to resist—the one she privately called begging basset hound. She gave a long sigh and then she caved in. “Okay. I’ll bring dessert.”
“Thanks, Hannah.” Bill looked properly grateful. “Just make sure you don’t mention the case. I don’t want Mike to know that I recruited a civilian to help me.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t say anything.”
Bill headed toward the door. He was about to open it when he turned to grin at her. “I forgot to tell you that Delores is coming out tomorrow night. She wants to meet Mike.”
Hannah’s eyes narrowed as the door closed behind Bill. Things were beginning to add up. There was the remark Delores had made about how Hannah wouldn’t be able to attract any man except a homicide detective if she kept on finding bodies. There was the way that Bill had told her all about Mike’s background, painting him as a man with a deep sorrow that was bound to tug at any woman’s heartstrings. Added to all that was the way that Bill had practically begged her to join them for pizza so that she could pass along any useful insights into Mike’s character. Right. Sure.
Hannah sighed deeply and marched over to turn the “Closed” sign to “Open.” Bill had set her up and he’d done it like a pro. There was only one conclusion that she could draw. Bill had been taking a crash course in matchmaking from his wife and his mother-in-law.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Two minutes after she’d flipped the sign to “Open,” Hannah’s regulars began to come in. She chatted, poured coffee, and fetched cookies for two solid hours without a break. The news had leaked out and everyone she served wanted to know what she knew about Max’s murder and how it related to Ron’s.
“Do you think it’s the same killer, Hannah?” Bertie Straub looked anxious as she munched a Molasses Crackle. She’d walked down from the Cut ’n Curl to get the latest news for her blue-haired customers, who were gossiping under the gleaming metal heads of the dryers.
“It’s got to be. How could we have two killers in a town the size of Lake Eden?”
“Did you discover Max’s body?” Bertie lowered her voice and glanced around to make sure no one was listening. “You can tell me, Hannah. I promise I won’t repeat it to a soul.”
Hannah had all she could do to keep a solemn expression. Telling Bertie would be tantamount to calling KCOW’s talk line and broadcasting it over the radio waves. “I can’t say yes or no, Bertie. All the facts are a part of the ongoing investigation.”
“You did! I can tell by the look on your face!” Bertie gave a theatrical shiver and Hannah wondered if she’d joined The Lake Eden Players. “Was it terrible, Hannah?”
“It’s always terrible when someone loses his life.” Hannah parroted another polite phrase, the same one she’d used countless times this morning.
“They’ll catch him soon, won’t they? I swear I haven’t slept a wink since I heard about Ron. To think that there’s a killer out there among us!”
“I’m sure they will, Bertie. Bill’s on the case and he’s a very good detective.”
Hannah was saved further questioning by the arrival of Lisa, bearing more cookies on a tray. Lisa took one look at her employer’s frustrated expression and winked. “Your mother’s on the phone, Hannah, and she says it’s urgent. Why don’t you catch the phone in back? It’s quieter there. And take some coffee with you.”
“I’ve got to run, Bertie.” Hannah shot Lisa a thankful look, filled her mug with coffee, and headed off through the swinging door. She’d answered so ma
ny questions, her head was spinning, and it was only eleven in the morning.
She was about to sit down on a stool at the work island when the phone rang. Hannah grabbed it up before she could think better of it, and she heard her mother’s excited voice.
“Hannah? Are you there?”
“Yes, Mother.” Hannah took a slug of her coffee. “You must be psychic.”
“What, dear?”
“Never mind. What can I do for you?”
“Have you seen the pictures Carrie took at the Woodleys’ party yet?”
“Not yet.” Hannah glanced up at the clock. “Norman said he’d bring them over at noon.”
“Well, you’re in for a pleasant surprise. There’s one of you that’s very nice. You don’t look like yourself at all. Norman promised to make me an eight by ten to put in a frame.”
Hannah had all she could do not to laugh. She looked nice? Not like herself at all? Leave it to a girl’s mother to destroy her confidence.
“I’ve got to rush, dear. I’m just on my way out, but I wanted to call you first.”
“Thanks, Mother. I’ll talk to you later.” Hannah groaned as she hung up the phone. Maybe she should accept Lisa’s advice and take the rest of the day off. She’d already heard all there was to hear from her customers. She’d stick around to see that “nice” picture of her and then she’d go home and concentrate on the important things. If she really worked hard, she might be able to solve Bill’s murder case before Mike Kingston came on board.
“What do you think, Hannah?” Norman watched her as she paged through the prints he’d brought. “That one on top is your mother’s favorite.”
Hannah sighed, staring down at the print. Her eyes were half-closed, her smile was crooked, and her hair stuck up over her left ear. “It’s not exactly the best picture of me I’ve ever seen.”
“I know,” Norman sympathized. “There’s a much better one of you, but my mother managed to cut off your left arm.”
“Let me see.” Andrea reached for the print. She’d come in, about five minutes ago, with Tracey.
Hannah watched while Andrea studied the print. She could tell, by the little line of concentration between her sister’s eyes, that Andrea was trying to think of something nice to say. It must have been a struggle because it took Andrea at least thirty seconds to react. “You look a little thinner than you usually do. And your dress looks beautiful.”