by Joanne Fluke
“Come on, Hannah.” Mike pulled her forward. “You know you’re in no condition to drive. You were on that tilt-a-whirl for at least five minutes and you’re still dizzy.
“I’m not arguing about that.” Hannah let them walk her forward again. “I want to know how you got Tucker’s fingerprints without arresting him.”
“I lifted them from his coffee cup at the hospital.”
“Of course you did,” Hannah said, mentally chiding herself for not figuring it out on her own. She’d caught Mike’s lie when he’d said that there were no more Styrofoam cups, but she hadn’t guessed the reason he’d substituted a double layer of slick plastic cold drink cups. “What I want to know is why you checked on Tucker in the first place.”
Mike looked as if he didn’t want to answer her question, but he felt he should. “It’s like this. Sometimes a cop will operate on a hunch and I had a hunch about him. I just knew he was no good.”
“What did he do to give you the hunch?” Hannah persisted.
Mike opened the passenger door of Norman’s car and practically shoved her in. “I didn’t like it when he called you darlin’. Nobody’s supposed to do that except me.”
Norman cleared his throat pointedly, and Mike turned to look at him. “Okay. You’re right. What I meant to say was nobody’s supposed to do that except me. And Norman. Is that all right with you, Hannah?”
“That’s fine with me,” Hannah said, snapping on her seatbelt before Mike could do it for her and taking her purse from Norman’s hand.
“Okay. See you later,” Mike said.
Hannah waited until he’d closed the door and walked away, and then she turned to Norman. “You were right.”
“About what?” Norman started his car and drove out of the lot.
“About that cell phone you gave me. It’s not exactly how I thought it would happen, but it did save my life.”
Hannah was just starting to relax when Norman pulled up in her extra parking spot and parked directly in back of Michelle. “This is all right, isn’t it?”
“I’m sure it’s fine. I don’t think Michelle’s going out. Lonnie will be tied up with Mike.”
“I think I’ve got Moishe’s problem narrowed down to a specific unit,” Norman said, getting out of the car and coming around to open the door for Hannah. “It’s the one directly across from you. I was sitting there in the dark watching out the window with Moishe, and I swear I saw the curtain pull back and a little face peek out.”
“A little face?”
Norman nodded. “It looked like a cat to me, but it was dark and I couldn’t really tell. It could have been a small dog, I guess.”
“It couldn’t have been either one. That’s where the Hollenbeck sisters live and they don’t have any pets. Clara’s violently allergic to cats and dogs. I can’t even go over there to see them unless she takes an allergy pill first.”
“She’s allergic to you?”
“No, to Moishe. And since he lives with me, I’ve got dander and cat hair practically imbedded in everything I wear.”
“So they couldn’t possibly have a cat,” Norman said, staring off into the distance at something Hannah couldn’t see.
“That’s right.”
“Okay. Get out of the car, Hannah. I want you to see something.”
Hannah got out of the car and turned to look. “What did you want me to…” She stopped speaking as she saw Marguerite Hollenbeck carrying something to the Dumpster.
“Is that a litter box?” Norman asked, when Hannah’s voice trailed off.
“Looks like one to me. And that would explain absolutely everything. Let’s go find out if we’re right.”
Marguerite was standing by the dumpster, tying off the litter box liner and preparing to drop it inside. Hannah was about to greet her when she saw that tears were running down her neighbor’s cheeks.
“Marguerite!” Hannah said, putting her arms around the older woman. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Cuddles. It’s breaking my heart, Hannah. I love her so much and I’ve got to give her up.”
Norman took care of the litter while Hannah took care of Marguerite. After a few moments of sobbing on Hannah’s shoulder, she finally wiped her eyes and drew a deep breath.
“I know I’ve got to be strong, but it’s just awful. I’ve wanted a cat for so long. Clara and I really thought we had her allergies under control, but it’s just not working. Clara’s miserable and Doc Knight can’t give her any stronger medication. She’s just as upset as I am. She loves Cuddles every bit as much as I do. But we’re going to have to find a new home for her!”
“Right here,” Norman said, stepping up to the plate with a speed that amazed Hannah. “I’ll take Cuddles and you can come out to visit her any time you want to.”
“You will?” Marguerite looked as astonished as Hannah felt. “Just like that?”
“Just like that. And if Cuddles gets along with Moishe, I’ll bring her over here to visit a couple of times a week. Then you won’t have to drive all the way out to my place.”
And that means you’ll be here to visit a couple of times a week, Hannah thought, admiring Norman’s tactics. But she wasn’t at all upset. Norman was welcome at her condo anytime.
“Oh, Dr. Rhodes!” Marguerite gave him a hug.
“You’d better call me Norman since I’m going to be your cat’s foster father,” Norman said, earning a big smile from Marguerite.
“All right…Norman. You’re the answer to our prayers! Would you like to meet Cuddles now?”
“I’d love to. Do you have a cat carrier?”
“Why yes. I do.”
Norman turned to Hannah. “If it’s all right with you, I’ll go meet Cuddles. And then Marguerite and I will bring Cuddles over to meet Moishe. Will that work?”
“Perfectly,” Hannah said, smiling at both of them. Her problem was solved because Willa’s killer was behind bars. And Moishe’s problem was solved because he’d been pining away, hoping to meet Cuddles. Everything was coming up roses except for the purple taffeta dress she’d be wearing on the front page of the Lake Eden Journal, the dunking she was bound to get at Bernie No-No Fulton’s hands at the Lake Eden Historical Society booth, and the fact that she had yet to experience the sinful pleasures of a deep-fried Milky Way.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The curtain was about to come down. Hannah shifted slightly on the dunking stool in the Lake Eden Historical Society booth and did her best to smile pleasantly. Mike and Norman had promised not to dunk her, but Bernie No-No Fulton hadn’t.
“Time?” she asked Michelle, who was standing by with a towel.
“Ten minutes until closing. And Andrea hasn’t seen him come in yet,” Michelle gave her report. Andrea and Tracey had taken up a position near the entrance, and they were all hoping that No-No wasn’t coming to the Tri-County Fair tonight. Michelle had been crowned Miss Tri-County tonight, and they’d planned a celebration at the Lake Eden Inn at ten-thirty, a half-hour after Hannah’s shift was over. There wouldn’t be time for her to go home and change, so she’d brought another outfit with her. But her hair would be another matter. Once dunked, it would resemble a bright red plastic pot scrubber, and she wouldn’t have time to wash and condition it.
Five minutes passed, and Hannah counted the seconds off in her mind. In the interim, three people tried to hit the bull’s-eye. Drew Vavra, the new coach of the Lake Eden Gulls, was the first to make the attempt. He’d pitched for the Gulls baseball team when he was in high school, but Mike whispered something in his ear and the three balls Drew threw missed the target by a country mile.
Florence Evans was up next, and she told Hannah that she was just showing her support by eating up the time. Florence wore glasses and everybody knew she was terribly near-sighted. But there was the phenomenon of beginner’s luck to consider, and Hannah held her breath until Florence’s last ball had fallen harmlessly several feet in front of the target.
The third pitcher was
Doc Knight, and Hannah thought she might be a goner. He was a crackerjack surgeon, and surgeons had to aim carefully or they’d take out somebody’s gall bladder instead of their appendix. But Doc wasn’t wearing his surgical greens, and he winked at Hannah before his first throw. That tipped her off that he was missing deliberately, but he came satisfactorily close to hitting Delores with his third throw, which went wild.
The clock had almost run out. There were only two minutes to go when Michelle’s cell phone rang. She listened for a moment and then she approached Hannah’s stool. “No-No’s on his way,” she said. “Sorry, Hannah.”
Oh, well, Hannah thought. She’d survived a lot in her life, and one dunking wouldn’t kill her. Actually, she should be grateful that she was here to be dunked. She could have been killed in the tilt-a-whirl if things had turned out differently. She’d had a series of near misses and she should be grate…
Near-misses. Hannah’s train of thought hit a junction and went off in a new direction. Didn’t near mean that the goal hadn’t been achieved? If something was a near-success, that meant it wasn’t a success at all. It was the same as if someone said, He nearly made it. That meant he hadn’t, but he’d come close. So was a near-miss a miss? Or was near-miss a hit because it had nearly missed?
These and other similar thoughts engaged Hannah’s mind until she caught sight of a grinning baseball player wearing a Twin’s uniform. “Hi, No-No,” she said, accepting the inevitable.
“Hi, Hannah. Guess what? I’m going to the show!”
Hannah knew a bit of baseball lingo. Her father had followed the Twins for years and he’d never tired of talking baseball to his daughters. “They moved you up and you’re pitching for the Twins now?” she asked.
“That’s right. But I’m really worried about you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I heard you struck out a killer last night and I’ve never done that. I figured that maybe I should let you have a shot at the best rookie pitcher the Twins are ever gonna have.”
“You mean…” Hannah didn’t dare voice what she was thinking. It was almost too good to be true.
“That’s right. I want to take your place and have you throw three balls at me. If you dunk me, you’re the best amateur pitcher in the state. And if you don’t, I’ll take a crack at you. Fair enough?”
Hannah glanced out over the crowd. There was Wingo Jones and his cameraman. Delores would love this publicity for the Lake Eden Historical Society. And that gave her a really great idea.
“Sure,” she said, giving a big grin for the camera, “but I’m not the best amateur pitcher around.”
No-No looked surprised. “You’re not?”
“Oh, no. My mother is. She’s Delores Swensen, the president of the Lake Eden Historical Society, and she told me all about it. She used to play softball when she was in high school, and she was terrific. If my mother can’t dunk you with three pitches, you can have a crack at her. Is that a deal?”
“It’s a deal,” No-No said, and Hannah almost laughed out loud as she caught sight of her mother’s shocked face. Delores was caught, and she knew it. If she refused to honor Hannah’s bet, she’d fail to support her favorite cause. And if she did honor Hannah’s bet, she’d probably get dunked, but she’d also get a lot more airtime to promote the Lake Eden Historical Society. Hannah figured she’d done what a good daughter should do and helped her mother achieve her goal. Delores deserved it. Oh, boy, did she ever deserve it!
“Did you wait until the third ball on purpose?” Andrea asked, when one of Sally’s waitresses had served their en-trees.
Delores shrugged. She’d gotten at least three minutes of airtime on KCOW television, and she was pleased. And to make her time on camera even sweeter, she hadn’t been dunked. “Of course I waited until the third ball,” she said. “I had to build up the suspense. That’s very important in the television world.”
Hannah, who was sitting between Norman and Mike again, despite her protests that she felt like the mustard in their ham and cheese sandwich, just smiled. Her mother had dunked No-No fair and square and it would probably become a family legend. And when it came to family legends, she had one she had to correct.
“You can stop eating oatmeal,” she said, leaning across the table to speak to Andrea. “You fooled me when you were a kid, and I was just getting even.”
“I know.”
“You do?”
“I knew that day. But I felt guilty for fooling you, and I figured it was my penance.”
“Well, you don’t have to be penitent any longer.”
“Thanks, but I think I’ll still eat oatmeal.”
Hannah stared at her for a moment and then she began to smile. “Don’t tell me…”
“That’s right,” Andrea interrupted. “I discovered I really like it!”
“Hannah?” Lisa motioned to Hannah and Hannah leaned back to talk to her behind Mike’s back. “I just wanted to tell you I really like your earrings. They match your pendant perfectly.”
“Thank you,” Hannah said and left it at that. The earrings had arrived that morning, a special delivery from the jeweler who’d designed her pendant. They were a gift from Ross Barton, the producer of Crisis in Cherrywood. There had been little gifts, or flowers, every week since he’d been gone. When they’d spoken on the phone, he’d told her that he was “fanning the flames to keep them alive.”
“So how’s Cuddles?” Michelle asked Norman. She was sitting between Norman and Lonnie, but Hannah was willing to bet that she didn’t feel like anyone’s sandwich.
“She’s great.” Norman passed her the picture he’d taken of the gray tabby curled up with Moishe in their father’s desk chair. “Cuddles adores Moishe, so we’re going to let them visit at least three times a week.”
Hannah glanced at Mike. He didn’t look happy.
“So…” he said. “Do you think they’ll have any kids? I’ve been thinking about getting a kitten.”
Good heavens! Hannah thought. She had to end this before Mike and Norman tried to out-feline each other.
“Cuddles is spayed,” Hannah explained. “She can’t have kittens. And even if she could, Moishe’s been neutered.”
“Oh, Hannah! How could you?!” Mike looked horrified.
“I didn’t,” Hannah told him. “He was already neutered when he arrived on my doorstep. But if he hadn’t been, I would have taken him to the vet. It’s part of being a responsible pet owner. There are too many homeless dogs and cats.”
“But…” Mike floundered in the face of Hannah’s determination, but he was given a reprieve as Delores began clinking her fork against her champagne flute.
“Could I please have everyone’s attention?” Delores asked. It was designed in the form of a question, but given the force of her personality, of course she had it in no time flat.
“First of all, Lisa and Herb need our help,” Delores said, startling Hannah and causing her to almost stab her napkin instead of the anchovy on her salad.
“I knew I should have told you first,” Lisa said, leaning back to talk to Hannah around the rear of Mike’s chair. “It was just that you were so busy. And all I asked her was if she’d let some of my relatives rent her cabin on Eden Lake for the last week in August.”
“Lisa and Herb are having a family reunion,” Delores went on, “and they need places to rent on Eden Lake. You can help them with that, can’t you, Andrea?”
“Of course,” Andrea said, pulling out some kind of an electronic device and making a note. “The last week in August?”
“Right,” Lisa said, glancing over at Herb, who nodded. “We thought that might be a good time because it’s right before school starts.”
“I’ll take care of it for you. How many people are coming?”
Lisa looked at Herb, and Herb looked at Lisa. Hannah thought both of them seemed a little stunned that their plans were being made so public so soon.
“Maybe three dozen?” Lisa ventured. “We’re
doing RSVPs so we can let you know.”
“And maybe a dozen or so more,” Herb added. “Lisa comes from a big family, and so do I.”
“That’s okay. I can handle it. Most people are shutting their cabins down about that time, and they’ll be happy about the extra rental. I can probably get you a deal.”
“In any event, we’ll start the ball rolling for you,” Delores said, smiling at Lisa and Herb. “And now, I’d like to propose a toast to my daughter Michelle for winning the Miss Tri-County Beauty Pageant.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Michelle said, clinking her glass with her mother’s. “And I’d like to propose a toast to Andrea and Tracey, who came in first in the Mother-Daughter contest.”
“And I’d like to…” Tracey paused and turned to her mother. “What did Grandma call that?”
“Propose a toast,” Andrea said.
“Right. I’d like to propose a toast to Bethany, who would have come in first in the Beautiful Baby contest if she hadn’t pulled off the head judge’s hair.”
“It was a toupee,” Andrea explained. “Everybody there thought it was really funny, but Bethie got disqualified for misbehavior.”
Delores shook her head. “They should have given her an award for good taste. It was the worst toupee I’ve ever seen. He must have gotten it used from Digger.”
“Mother!” Hannah gasped, laughing in spite of herself.
Delores laughed right along with her daughters. “I’m a little giddy tonight because I finally finished the project I’ve been working on for months.”
“Tell us about it,” Hannah said, hoping that her mother would reveal what she’d been doing every night in her home office.
“Not quite yet, dear. It’s something I’ve been wanting to do for years, and we’ll have another family celebration if it actually flies.”
Orville and Wilbur beat you to it, Hannah thought, but of course she didn’t say it.
“I’d like to congratulate Norman for winning first place in the photography exhibit,” Delores went on, “and Herb for being the best amateur magician. And I want to thank Mike for saving Hannah from that dreadful man. I’m through talking now. Let’s have dessert!”