by Joanne Fluke
Lynne cued Hannah, and Hannah delivered the lines in her best schoolmarm voice. “All right, class. I have papers to grade at the table in the back, so for the remainder of the period I want you to study Mending Wall by our own poet laureate, Robert Frost. If you have trouble understanding any of the allusions, ask Jody. If the last test is any indication, he has a better understanding of Frost’s work than any other student in this class.”
Hannah picked up the sheaf of papers on her desk and walked, in her gray tweed suit and sensible shoes, to the table at the rear. The moment she had cleared the last desk at the back of the rows, students began to lean over in the aisle and whisper.
Lynne waved her to her chair at the table and Hannah sat down. She spread out her papers and pretended to be engrossed in grading them, her red pencil moving over the paper and making a checkmark and an occasional comment, but she knew she’d be present only in the wide master shot and no one could actually see what she was doing. She, however, could still see the class and the quiet but threatening interaction between Jody and the rest of the students.
“Think you’re so smart, huh?” the boy with the yellow shirt hissed.
The girl in the pink sweater set nodded. “Yeah, you drove up the curve, you creep!”
The insults went on in hushed voices, and the boom mike picked them up. Jody looked defensive, and then nervous, and finally about to jump out of his skin as the other students taunted him.
“Come on, guys!” he said in a low voice, glancing back at Hannah. “I didn’t mean to ace that test.”
“What’cha got going with Miss Bowman, huh?” the boy in the yellow shirt, who’d started it all, moved over to stand between the table at the back and Jody’s desk. Hannah couldn’t see it, but she’d read the script and she knew the boy cuffed Jody on the back of the head.
At that point, Lynne motioned to Hannah and she got up to stand at the side of the room. The master shot was finished and they’d already shot several minutes of her at the table, pretending to grade papers. As Lynne had explained it, they’d intercut the footage so that Miss Bowman appeared to be oblivious to the harassment of her best student.
“Cut it out!” Jody hissed, glancing back at the table. But when he saw that the boy in the yellow shirt was blocking his teacher’s view, he started to tremble. “I don’t have anything going with Miss Bowman. She’s our teacher, that’s all.”
“That’s what you say, and maybe it’s right. But you’re teacher’s pet, aren’t ’cha?”
The boy cuffed Jody again and he started to shake even more violently. Hannah felt her heartbeat speed up, even though she knew everyone in the scene was acting.
“So…let’s talk about this test we’re having next Friday. You’re gonna sit next to me and give me the answers.”
“That would be cheating!”
“No, that would be smart. If you don’t do it, I’ll find you after school and beat you into meatloaf. Got it?”
“But…”
The boy threw a punch that seemed to hit to Burke’s head. It didn’t. It missed by several inches, but it would look as if it had on camera. And even though Burke hadn’t been touched, Hannah saw tears spring up in his eyes.
“Next to me,” the bully warned. “And anytime I ask, you give me the answer. If you let me down, I’ll make sure my dad finds something wrong with your dad’s work. Got it?”
Burke dipped his head in a nod and Hannah saw the anguish on his face. He knew it was wrong and he didn’t want to do it, but he believed the bully’s threats.
“That’s good. You’re gonna be my ticket to an A in this class. And if you tell anybody about his conversation we’re having, I’ll make sure your cute little sister isn’t so cute anymore. Got it?”
Burke nodded again, and Hannah resisted the urge to run into the scene and slap the bully silly. She was still resisting when the bully swaggered back to his seat.
“Cut,” Lynne called, “and that’s a wrap, folks. You were perfect Burke! I don’t know anyone who could have played it better.”
The high school students started to applaud and so did the cameramen and the rest of the crew. The applause grew and Burke took a bow. “Aw shucks,” he said, still in character and blushing to the roots of his hair. “That’s real nice of you guys.”
Hannah watched the young actor with something approaching awe. He had been magnificent. She’d never dreamed that he was such a fine actor. No wonder Ross hadn’t been worried when they’d cast a relative unknown. Burke had more talent than most of the leading men in Hollywood.
“Wrap party at seven at the Lake Eden Community Center,” Lynne announced. “I expect to see everyone there, because this film is now officially…in the can!”
“Not tonight, Moishe,” Hannah said, giving her famous feline a pat and a handful of triangle-shaped treats that were supposed to taste like fresh tuna. “I’m going to the wrap party and you’re going to watch the animal channel. There’s a great feature on bats, and right after that they’re showing Frogs of North America again.”
Moishe purred and licked her hand. It wasn’t his usual way of saying good-bye and Hannah knew he was glad to be staying home with the creatures behind the glass screen, the full food bowl in the kitchen, the pristine litter box in the laundry room, and Hannah’s best feather pillow in the bedroom.
“Okay. How do I look?” Hannah asked, swirling around for the cat, who was clearly more interested in his triangular tuna treats than in her appearance. He did close one eye in a wink, though, and Hannah interpreted that to mean that he approved of her midnight blue sweater and skirt. She’d even squirted on some of the perfume one of her college roommates had given her for Christmas, and with the hammered gold necklace Michelle had brought back from a college art fair, Hannah figured she could hold her own with anyone in Lake Eden.
Dress coat or parka coat? Hannah pondered that decision for a brief moment, but fate took it out of her hands. Her parka coat was lying on the chair near the door and her dress coat was back in her bedroom closet. Expediency won, Hannah shrugged into her parka coat, and a moment later she was rushing down the stairs to her cookie truck.
“Gorgeous,” Ross said, taking Hannah’s coat and hanging it on the rack. “I love that color with your hair. Come with me. I’ve been waiting for you to arrive.”
Hannah could believe that. Ross had been standing by the front door of the community center to usher her in, and she’d just barely resisted the urge to ask him how long he’d been there. Having a man wait for her arrival was certainly flattering to a woman’s ego, and Hannah was smiling as she walked down the stairs to the banquet room.
One look and Hannah was impressed. Ross had hired a firm from Minneapolis to cater the event, and they’d gone all out. The large banquet room was decorated with flowers and candles, and food tables draped in pristine white had been set up around the perimeter. Formally clad waiters and waitresses manned the food stations, and there was a live five-piece band playing for dancing at the far end of the room.
“Would you care to dance?” Ross asked. “Or would you like to inspect the food tables?”
Hannah turned to give him a look and Ross laughed. “Never mind. It was a silly question. Follow me. We’ll go see what the caterers have on the menu.”
They had anything and everything on the menu, as Hannah soon discovered. There was a table with caviar, which Hannah avoided like the plague, and another with cheeses and a variety of crackers. Pâté and toast rounds were on a third table, and shrimp wrapped in bacon on a fourth. Cracked crab wrapped in flaky sheets of filo dough were next, and another table held a variety of fruit cut into bitesized pieces, each speared with its own food pick. There were hot little sausages in tiny buns, and miniature sandwiches on tiny croissants. Smoked salmon commanded a whole table, along with a round silver platter of pumpernickel triangles decorated with cream cheese rosettes.
Part of one wall was taken up by what Hannah called “hot carts” containing meat slice
d to order. There were beef roasts, ham, turkey, roasted chicken, and baked salmon, all aromatic and succulent. The meat was carved by chefs in white aprons and toques, and served as dinners with baked potatoes loaded with your choice of toppings, herbed dinner rolls, and sides of creamed spinach, green beans, creamed corn, or all three.
The next food section contained the display that interested Hannah the most. One look, and she was impressed. The caterer had provided colorful Italian ices for the party.
“Pretty fancy,” Ross said, eyeing the assortment of ices that dominated the first two tables. There were coconut ices in real coconut shells, orange ices in oranges that were cut in half and hollowed out, lemon ices and peach ices in a similar presentation, and banana ices that were shaped like bananas and served in a miniature bunch of three. Hannah especially admired the pineapple ices that were served in hollowed out rounds of pineapple.
The usual array of desserts filled the tables that remained. There were pies, cakes, tarts, cookies, and sweet treats in puff pastries. Hannah was about to call Uncle, and give in to her urge to try the pineapple ice in its pineapple round, when Ross moved up behind her and put his arms around her waist.
“Eat first and then dance? Or dance first and then eat?”
“Dance first,” Hannah said. The siren call of the desserts was strong, but she was enjoying the feeling of being in Ross’s arms even more.
What a diet! she thought as he led her to the dance floor in the center of the dining room. I could name it the Dance Diet and rent out handsome men to whirl overweight women away at mealtime as an alternative to eating. It would work with men, too. Most guys would give up a meal to dance with a gorgeous woman. And then, as Ross took her into his arms and they began to move to the slow, romantic music, the new diet craze she’d just invented became the furthest thing from her mind.
“Thanks for snagging a table!” Hannah said, sitting down with a sigh. “It feels so good to be off my feet.”
Michelle laughed. “I didn’t think you were ever going to stop dancing.”
“Neither did I.” Hannah slipped off one shoe and glanced at the bottom. “I thought for sure I’d need them resoled by now.”
“Ross, Mike, Norman, Lloyd, and Clark. And after that it was Mike, Ross, Norman, and Burke.”
“You’re in charge of my dance card?” Hannah asked with a laugh.
“No, Mother is. She’s keeping track of your partners.”
“That figures.” Hannah picked up the pitcher of water on the table and poured herself a glass.
“I was watching Burke dance with you and the expression he was wearing was priceless. I wish I had a picture.”
“I didn’t notice. What did he look like?”
“Like he was the only boy in the world and you were the only girl.”
“You’re kidding!” Hannah was surprised, not only by the observation but also by her baby sister’s use of such dated song lyrics. “But we talked while we were dancing and Burke didn’t say anything in the least bit romantic.”
“I know. He danced with me and we talked about the film. And then Mother cornered me to ask what was going on. That’s exactly how she put it, that whole only boy and only girl thing. I thought she was imagining things until I saw him dancing with you.”
Now that Michelle’s use of the old song lyric was explained, Hannah looked out at the dance floor. She spotted Ross dancing with Honey and experienced a totally unwarranted twinge of jealousy. Reminding herself that no promises had been exchanged or even offered, she quickly suppressed it and resumed her search for Burke.
Burke was dancing with Carrie, one of the least likely candidates for a romantic liaison. Not only was Norman’s mother over thirty years older than Burke was, she was also…
Hannah searched for the right word, couldn’t find it, and settled for something close. That word was ordinary. Norman’s mother was a perfectly nice, ordinary woman, but not someone Burke, a talented young Adonis with his whole life before him, could possibly be interested in pursuing.
“See what I mean?” Michelle asked, also spotting Burke and Carrie. “He looks like he’s about ready to propose.”
“Would that be a decent or an indecent proposal?” Hannah asked with a grin.
“Either one would do. It’s really strange, Hannah. Burke makes it look really intimate to anyone who’s watching, but they’re probably talking about the weather.”
Hannah watched for a minute in utter amazement. “How does he do that?”
“Who? And what’s he doing?” Andrea asked, rushing up to the booth.
“Burke,” Michelle explained. “He looks like he finds every woman he dances with irresistible.”
Andrea sat down next to Michelle and shrugged. “That’s what Lisa said. Herb was starting to get a little hot under the collar until Lisa told him that all the time they were dancing, they were talking about target shooting.”
“So Burke knows about guns?” The wheels in Hannah’s mind were spinning.
“I guess. Lisa said he won a couple of trophies for shooting, and he got a job as a spokesman for an outdoor outfitter. Maybe he’ll have to go back to the commercials now that he didn’t get that part.”
“What part?” Michelle asked, and Hannah could tell she hadn’t known Burke was up for another part after Crisis in Cherrywood.
“This part.” Andrea pulled a folded copy of Variety from her purse and read a section out loud. “Burke Anson of Surf ’n Turf fame may have a BEEF with Halsey Productions because something’s definitely FISHY.” Isn’t that cute? They’re using food terms because he was in that restaurant commercial.”
“Cute,” Hannah said, not believing it for a minute. “Go on.”
“Slated for the lead in Remember Last Tuesday, Anson was given the CHOP in favor of Derek Pullman, who decided to CLAM up and refused to give us a comment. When queried about the last-minute change, a spokesman for Halsey said that Anson had earned the reputation for being difficult on his current project, Crisis in Cherrywood.”
“Remember Last Tuesday,” Hannah breathed. “It’s a movie title!”
Michelle just shook her head. “No wonder I couldn’t find anyone who knew what happened last Tuesday! So that’s what Amber overheard Dean and Burke arguing about!”
“If that isn’t a motive, I don’t know what is,” Hannah pointed out. “Burke must have been convinced that Dean was the one who said he was difficult. What date is that paper?”
Andrea looked down beneath the green-and-black banner. “It’s Wednesday. They mail it from L.A. and I just got it today.”
“Burke wouldn’t have to wait to find out from Variety,” Michelle pointed out. His agent would have called him right away. Burke could have taken the call and then rushed right off to confront Dean in his office. I’m sure he thought Dean wrecked his career by tagging him with the difficult label. That’s the kiss of death, you know.”
“But Amber said Dean denied everything,” Andrea argued. “She heard Dean tell Burke that he didn’t do it.”
Hannah gave a short laugh. “It’s pretty obvious Burke didn’t believe him. He must have thought Dean was getting even for that awful interview he gave on KCOW television.”
“But didn’t Dean say he wasn’t mad about that? That he thought what Burke said on television was funny?” Andrea asked.
“He said it, but I was there and I didn’t believe him for a second. I don’t think anybody did. It was pretty clear that Dean was only pretending to be amused to save face.”
“Do you think Dean told the producers of Remember Last Tuesday that Burke was difficult to work with?” Andrea wanted to know.
Michelle shrugged. “It could have happened that way. Most of the producers know each other and they compare notes. It doesn’t really matter whether Dean did it or not, as long as Burke was convinced he did.”
“That’s why Burke was so lousy in the scene,” Hannah felt a current of excitement as the light dawned. “He’s a great actor. We a
ll know that. And a great actor can play a lousy actor.”
Andrea stared at Hannah for a moment. “You’re right. It’s why he said his back hurt and he couldn’t seem to get the motivation right. He wanted Dean to demonstrate the suicide and pull the trigger on the real revolver.”
“He’s a stone cold killer,” Hannah said, shivering slightly. “He stood there watching, only a few feet away, and he knew exactly what was going to happen.”
“So shall we tell Mike?” Michelle asked.
“Not yet. It’s all supposition at this point. We don’t have any proof.” Hannah turned to Andrea. “Can you locate Sally and ask her if Burke got any calls in his room on Wednesday morning? I’m sure she’s around here someplace.”
“I’m on it,” Andrea said, rushing off.
“And can you think of an excuse to find out who Burke’s agent is?” Hannah asked Michelle. “We can always call and ask when Burke was notified that someone else got the part.”
“No problem. Somebody’s bound to know. What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to find Mother and get the keys to Granny’s Attic. We know that Burke didn’t have that prop gun on him when he left the building, so it’s just got to be hidden there somewhere.”
Hannah searched in vain for her mother. She’d seen her only minutes ago, but Delores seemed to have vanished. She even checked the ladies’ room, but the only person there was Winnie Henderson, who was standing in front of the mirror brushing her hair.
“Hi, Winnie,” Hannah said. “I’m glad you came to the party.”
“Connor brought me. He said the caterers cost more than one of my prize heifers and I owed it to my taste buds to come and eat.”
Hannah’s stomach growled. With all this excitement she’d forgotten to eat. “Sounds like a good idea to me. Have you seen Mother?”
“I saw her about ten minutes ago. She was just leaving.”
“Leaving?” Hannah glanced at her watch. “But it’s only eight-thirty.”
“Oh, she’s coming back. She just ran down to Granny’s Attic to make sure they were careful when they loaded the sewing machine on the truck.”