by Joanne Fluke
“I think Aunt Hannah looks pretty.” Tracey smiled up at Hannah. “Maybe not as pretty as right now, but still pretty.”
“Diplomatic Corps.” Hannah winked at Andrea. “Tracey shows real promise.”
Andrea laughed and held out her hand. “Let’s see the rest.”
Hannah glanced down at the next picture. It was one of Andrea and Bill, and they both looked fabulous in their formal clothing. Andrea was amazingly photogenic, while pictures of Hannah always reminded her of the “before” photos in makeup ads.
They went through the prints one by one, Hannah handing them to Andrea after she’d seen them. Thankfully, her customers were settled with their coffee and their cookies and no one rushed up to the counter to interrupt them. Hannah came to the one that Norman had mentioned and she did look better. She was sitting on the couch with Norman standing behind her, and it was just a pity that her left arm was out of the frame. Norman’s mother had managed to center the picture so badly that almost half of the photo was taken up by the end table next to the couch.
Hannah was about to hand it to Andrea when she noticed a stack of books and papers on the table. There was a white folder on top of the stack and it had red lettering. She held it closer, squinted a little, and read the words: “Compacts Unlimited.” One of the Woodleys had rented the kind of car that Mr. Harris had seen pulling out of the Cozy Cow driveway on the morning of the murders!
“What’s the matter, Hannah?” Andrea caught the shocked expression that must have flitted across her face.
“Nothing, but I really like this one.” Hannah turned to Norman and asked, “Can I keep it?”
“Sure. But why do you want that one?”
Hannah thought fast. She couldn’t go wrong appealing to Norman’s vanity. “It’s a very good picture of you.”
“It is?” Norman leaned over to examine the print. “I don’t think so.”
“But I do. I’d really like to have it, Norman.”
Norman took the photo and examined it with a critical eye. “Let me reprint it for you. I can do some tricks with the negative in my darkroom.”
“No, it’s just fine.” Hannah snatched the photo out of his hands. “I like it just the way it is.”
Andrea stared at her. “You want to keep the one with your arm cut off?”
“If it was good enough for Venus, it’s good enough for me.” Hannah shot her sister a warning look.
“I could center it differently, cut off that table, and enlarge it to a head shot of the two of us,” Norman suggested. “If I can do that, would you like it?”
“Of course I would. But I want to keep this one anyway.”
Norman just shrugged and turned to Andrea. “How about you? Would you like copies of anything?”
“I’d love to have these.” Andrea handed him two prints.
The bell over the door tinkled and Sheriff Grant walked in, followed by the most intimidating hunk of man that Hannah had ever laid eyes on. He was tall, well over six feet, and he had reddish blond hair, piercing blue eyes, and a mustache. He looked as fit as an athlete and only the deep lines in his face kept him from being classically handsome. There was a buzz of conversation from the customers at the tables and Hannah could understand why. He was the best-looking man to hit Lake Eden in a month of Sundays.
“It’s him!” Andrea nudged her. “That’s Mike Kingston.”
“I know.” Hannah grinned. Her sister had stated the obvious. Mike Kingston was with Sheriff Grant. Who else could he be?
“Hannah.” Sheriff Grant strode over to the counter. “This is Mike Kingston. He’ll be joining the department on Monday.”
Hannah swallowed hard. She’d never been uncomfortable around men before, but Mike Kingston was an exception. The moment she’d seen him, her pulse had quickened and she found she couldn’t meet his eyes. She took a deep breath, willed her voice to be steady, and said, “I’m glad to meet you Deputy Kingston.”
“Mike.”
His voice was deep and warm, and it matched his size. Hannah felt a purely physical reaction she hadn’t experienced since her two-timing professor had invited her to his apartment. She turned quickly to perform the introductions, praying that no one would guess what effect just being in the same room with Mike Kingston was having on her. “This is my sister, Andrea Todd, and here’s my niece, Tracey. And this is Norman Rhodes. He just took over his father’s dental practice in town. I know you’re in a hurry, so I’ll just zip in back and get those cookies for you.”
As Mike Kingston turned to shake hands with Andrea and Norman, Hannah made her escape to the bakery. Once she was safely behind the swinging door, she ducked into the bathroom and splashed some cold water on her face. If just meeting Mike Kingston was this much of a jolt, how was she going to handle their pizza dinner tomorrow night when she’d actually have to talk to him?
Never one to run away from a problem, Hannah decided that there was no time like the present to confront it. Mike Kingston would think that she was crazy if she ducked into a different room every time he came into The Cookie Jar. She marched out of the bathroom, picked up the box of the Black and Whites for the open house, and pushed back through the swinging door to the front of her shop.
Mike Kingston turned to smile at her and Hannah’s breath caught in her throat. She hoped she wasn’t staring at him like a teenage groupie who’d come face to face with her favorite rock star.
“It’s really nice of you to bake these cookies for us, Hannah. Sheriff Grant said that you do it every year.”
“I do.” Hannah was relieved. He didn’t seem to have noticed how flustered she was and that was good. “I cater your summer picnic, too. It’s a bring-your-own-steak barbecue out at Eden Lake and I provide lemonade and cookies.”
“That sounds good. There’s nothing like a barbecue out at the lake.”
“We’d better get going, Mike.”
Sheriff Grant turned to his newest protégé, and Hannah could see the admiration in his eyes. He had to look up. Mike Kingston was at least six three, and Sheriff Grant was a good four inches short of the six-foot mark. The newest member of the Winnetka County Sheriff’s Department made Hannah feel petite, and she’d never felt petite before in her life.
“See you later, Hannah.”
Mike Kingston gave her a wave and Hannah smiled. He seemed perfectly nice. She had nothing against him personally. But she was prepared to despise him if Bill didn’t get his promotion.
“Nice to meet you, Norman.” Mike nodded to Norman and then he turned to Andrea. “I’m looking forward to working with your husband, Andrea.”
“That’s my daddy,” Tracey piped up.
“I know.” Mike Kingston leaned down and whispered something in Tracey’s ear.
As Hannah watched, her niece’s eyes widened and then she gave a delighted giggle. “Really?”
“I promise.” Mike nodded. “But it’s a secret until tomorrow night. I’ll bring it then.”
The minute the door had closed behind them, Andrea turned to Tracey. “What did he say?”
“I can’t tell you.” Tracey was all smiles. “You heard him say it was a secret. But you’ll find out tomorrow night when we have the pizza.”
Andrea exchanged a glance with Hannah. She seemed pleased that her daughter had gotten along so well with Bill’s new supervisor. “I’ve got to run, Hannah. I’m taking a load of things out to Luanne, and Tracey’s going to help me. And then we’re going out to the open house at the sheriff’s station.”
“I’ve got to leave, too. I have a patient in twenty minutes.” Norman reached into his pocket, pulled out a stack of business cards, and handed them to Hannah. “These are for you.”
Hannah took the cards and began to smile. They were perfect, and Norman had even printed little cookies around the border. “Thanks, Norman. They’re wonderful.”
“I can print out more if you need them.”
“Let’s hope I do. Hold on just a second.” Hannah opened the
cash register and drew out the manila envelope with his mother’s loan papers inside. “Here, Norman. This is for you.”
“For me?” Norman looked puzzled as she handed it to him.
“It’s something I came across the other night. Just open it when you get back to the office. There’s a note inside explaining everything.”
Hannah breathed a deep sigh of relief as they all left together. She had work to do and it didn’t have anything to do with baking, selling, or serving cookies. She grabbed the print she’d taken from Norman and headed off to the back room to tell Lisa that she was going take her up on her offer to stay until closing. She had people to see, calls to make, and if she got lucky, she might be able to solve Bill’s double-homicide case before Monday morning.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Hannah pushed open her condo door and caught a flash of orange out of the corner of her eye. Moishe had just jumped down from his perch on the top of the television set and he looked about as guilty as a cat could look. She glanced at the screen and realized that a nature program was on—one that was running footage of a flock of flamingos flapping their bright pink wings.
“Those birds are four times your size, Moishe.” Hannah gave him a scratch under the chin to let him know that she wasn’t angry. When she’d unlocked the door, her fierce feline hunter had been in the process of hanging over the top of the set to bat at the birds with his paw.
Once she’d switched off the enticing flamingos and hung up her jacket, Hannah walked out to the kitchen to fill Moishe’s food bowl. Of course it was empty. It was always empty. Moishe’s favorite activities when she was gone were eating and napping.
There were three messages on her answer machine. The first was from her downstairs neighbor, Sue Plotnik, asking if she could serve cookies at her Mommy and Me class next week. Hannah penciled it in on her kitchen calendar; she’d transfer it to the one at The Cookie Jar when she went in on Monday. Then she listened to her second message. It was from a man who identified himself as Robert Collins from Hideaway Resorts, who invited her to a complimentary dinner for prospective timeshare investors at a hotel in Minneapolis. Hannah didn’t bother to write down his toll-free number.
The third message made Hannah perk up her ears. It was from Bill and he told her that he just wanted to keep her up to speed. The manager from Compacts Unlimited had contacted him this morning. Since she still didn’t have the printout, she’d called all their other car lots and one of them had handled a rental for a customer with a Lake Eden address. Boyd Watson had rented a black compact from their St. Paul lot on Tuesday.
Naturally, Bill had checked it out. He’d called the principal, Mr. Purvis, and he’d found out that Coach Watson had been attending a statewide coaching clinic at the time. Since Boyd hadn’t come back to town until noon on Wednesday, that ruled him out as a possible suspect.
Hannah’s forehead furrowed as she poured herself a glass of diet Coke and carried it into the living room. When Maryann had said that she’d driven to Minneapolis to go shopping with Boyd, she’d assumed that Maryann had picked him up and they’d gone to the Mall of America together. But Maryann had said that she’d met her brother at the mall. Boyd must have had his rental car by then. But why would Coach Watson go to the trouble and expense of renting a car for less than twenty-four hours when his sister was coming to meet him? It just didn’t make sense.
She sighed and reached out to pet Moishe, who’d forsaken his food dish for the soft cushion of the couch and her company. Had Coach Watson been behind the wheel of the black compact that Mr. Harris had seen roaring out of the Cozy Cow driveway? The timetable was tight, but it was possible that Boyd had left before dawn, while Maryann and his mother were still asleep, and driven to Lake Eden. His last name began with a W, and he could have been the one to meet Max. If Maryann and her mother had slept until nine, Boyd might have had time to shoot both Max and Ron and get back before they woke up. But what possible motive could Coach Watson have for killing Max?
Hannah thought back to everything that she’d learned about the Watsons. Danielle’s ring had cost a thousand dollars and the dress she’d worn to the Woodleys’ party had sold for over five hundred. Boyd and Danielle lived in a very expensive house, and Danielle didn’t work. Boyd drove a new Jeep Grand Cherokee, and Danielle had a new Lincoln. How could Coach Watson afford to maintain their expensive lifestyle on a teacher’s salary?
“Boyd got a personal loan from Max!” Hannah exclaimed, causing Moishe to rear back and stare at her. “Sorry, Moishe. I didn’t mean to shout, but it’s the only thing that makes sense. There weren’t any loan papers for him, but the safe was open and he would have taken them right after he shot Max. And then he killed Ron because Ron had seen him with Max!”
Moishe turned to give her a long, level look and then he hopped off the couch and padded into the kitchen to his food bowl. He yowled once, calling for her to get out the kitty crunchies, and Hannah went off to comply. Moishe was the most intelligent cat she’d ever met. He was waiting for her to fill up his food bowl because he knew that she had to leave again.
Danielle opened the door several inches, but no wider. “Hi, Hannah. I…uh…I’m busy right now. Could you come back a little later?”
“No.” Hannah wedged her foot into the crack. “It’s important, Danielle. Is Boyd home?”
“No, he’s not. He’s got…football practice…at the school.”
“Good. That’ll give us some time alone. We have to talk, Danielle.”
“But I…I have to put on some makeup. I was just…uh…taking a nap and…” Danielle’s voice trailed off and she gave a little sob. “Please, Hannah. I don’t want you to see me like this.”
Hannah made one of her instant decisions. Right or wrong, she was coming in. Never one to dither once she’d made up her mind, she simply pushed Danielle back and stepped inside.
“Oh, Hannah!” Danielle’s hands flew up to her face, but not before Hannah had spotted her black eye and the red welts in the shape of a handprint across her left cheek.
“Good God, Danielle!” Hannah reached out to shut the door. “What happened to you?”
“I…uh…I—”
“Never mind,” Hannah interrupted what was bound to be some sort of hastily fabricated story. “Come on. Let’s get some ice on your face.”
“I don’t have any.”
“I’ll find something.” Hannah took her arm and led her into the kitchen. “Are you sure he’s not coming back?”
Danielle managed to look even more embarrassed. “Who? The…intruder?”
“Your husband.” Hannah opened the freezer and rummaged around for something that would work as an ice pack. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Danielle. I know he beat you up.”
“How do you know that?”
One of Danielle’s eyes opened wide in surprise, but the other was almost swollen shut. Hannah drew out a package of frozen peas, whacked it against the counter to loosen the contents, and handed it to her, along with the kitchen towel that was draped over the handle of the stove. “Sit down at the table. Wrap the peas in the towel and hold it up to your eye. I’ll get another one for your cheek.”
“Thank you, Hannah.” Danielle sank down in a chair. “This is all my fault. I forgot to fill up the ice trays.”
Hannah pulled out another package of frozen peas and wrapped it in a clean towel from the drawer. She held it up to Danielle’s cheek and sighed deeply. “It’s not your fault. Hold that with your other hand and tell me where you keep the coffee.”
“I don’t have any. I ran out and I forgot to buy more. That’s why Boyd got so mad at me.”
Hannah bristled. There had been a couple of mornings when she thought she might kill for a cup of coffee, but she hadn’t really meant it literally. “How about tea?”
“I’ve got some instant. It’s in the cupboard over the stove. And there’s a hot water spigot on our Sparklettes dispenser.”
Hannah found two cups, spo
oned in instant tea and a generous helping of sugar, and filled them with steaming water from the dispenser. She carried one over to Danielle and set hers down on the other side of the table. Hannah didn’t like tea, but that didn’t matter. Sharing tea gave them a common bond. “Let me look at your cheek.”
“It feels better.” Danielle removed the towel and managed a small smile. “I never even thought about using frozen peas before. I guess it’s true when they say that vegetables are good for you.”
Danielle’s sad attempt at humor made Hannah see red. Danielle had said she’d never thought about using frozen peas before. This obviously wasn’t the first time that Coach Watson had battered his wife. Hannah thought about trying to convince Danielle to press charges, or offering her advice about how she could get out of her abusive situation, but that could wait until later. Right now she had to find out if Boyd Watson was a murderer, as well as a wife beater.
“It looks a lot better,” Hannah assured her. “Have some tea and then hold it there for another couple of minutes.”
Danielle nodded and took a sip of her tea. “You put a lot of sugar in.”
“Sugar’s good for shock.” Hannah retrieved the bag of Black and White cookies she’d brought in from her truck. “Have a cookie. They’re chocolate.”
Danielle reached for a cookie and nibbled at it. “These are good, Hannah.”
“Thanks. Do you have a headache?”
“It’s not a concussion, Hannah. I know the symptoms.”
I’ll bet you do! Hannah thought. If she remembered correctly, Danielle had been in the hospital several times in the past—once for a broken leg and other times for less serious injuries. She’d always claimed that she’d been clumsy and fallen on the ice, or broken something skiing, or been in a boat accident while she was fishing with her husband. Hannah remembered her sister’s comment about Danielle’s clothes and how they always covered her completely. That should have set off alarm bells in Hannah’s mind, especially since Luanne had already told her that Danielle used theatrical makeup for facial blemishes. The only thing that erupted on Danielle Watson’s face was her husband’s bad temper!