Raspberry Danish Murder

by Joanne Fluke

  “Oh, great!” Hannah said sarcastically, setting the ornament box on the roof of the Jeep and reaching across the seat to open the glove box. It was where most people stored tissues, paper napkins, or rags, and she rummaged for something she could use to dry the seat.

  There was a box of tissues, and Hannah grabbed the box, placed it on the passenger’s seat, and pulled out several tissues. She used them to wipe up the spill and was about to replace the box in the glove box when she noticed that the interior of the glove box was a vivid shade of pink.

  “Pink!” Hannah gasped, completely startled by the color. Gary’s Jeep was black. Why was the interior of his glove box pink?

  It was a great paint job, Hannah. They even painted the inside of the glove box and the wheel wells, Cyril’s words describing Pinkie’s Jeep came back to Hannah. This was Pinkie’s Jeep! There was no doubt about that. She had to ask Gary where he’d bought his Jeep.

  Hannah remembered her promise to Mike. She’d promised to notify him if she came across an important clue. She took out her phone and snapped a photo of the interior of the glove box before she closed it again.

  Better check the wheel wells, her mind told her. That’s even more proof that it’s Pinkie’s Jeep.

  It was a good idea, and Hannah shut the door of the Jeep, locking the door behind her. She crouched down as far as she could near the driver’s side wheel well and held her cell phone out to snap another photo. One glance at her photo told her that it was even more proof that Gary’s Jeep had once belonged to Pinkie. Hannah was smiling as she typed a text message to Mike.

  My neighbor at the convention, Gary Fowler, owns Pinkie’s Jeep. Then she attached the two photos. As she walked back toward the door to the convention hall, Hannah felt very virtuous for fulfilling her promise and letting Mike know what she’d just discovered.

  * * *

  There was a line of waiting customers at Gary’s booth, and once Hannah delivered the box with the sleighs and took one for herself, she went back to The Cookie Jar booth with Michelle’s bar cookies. She would wait to talk to Gary until he finished with his customers.

  Michelle immediately cut up the bar cookies she’d brought, and since Norman was there to help wait on customers, Hannah grabbed a cup of coffee and took a moment to sit down at a table in the food court to sip it. She had just begun to relax when her cell phone rang. She glanced at the display and was surprised to see a number from Clarissa High displayed there.

  “Hello, this is Hannah,” she answered.

  “Oh, good! I got you! This is Lila from Clarissa High. I just thought of the name of Pinkie’s brother. Remember when I told you that it was a common name?”

  “I remember,” Hannah said.

  “Well, it’s Gary.”

  “Gary?”

  “That’s right, or at least I’m pretty sure it is. He’s the one who sold the farm and rented that apartment in town for Pinkie.”

  There was a pause, and then Lila said, “I’ve got to go. I’ve got another call. Good-bye, Hannah.”

  The phone clicked off, and Hannah just sat there for a moment with a puzzled expression on her face. Pinkie’s brother’s name was Gary. She reminded herself that there were a lot of men named Gary in the world and the fact that one of them had Pinkie’s Jeep didn’t necessarily mean that her neighbor, Gary, was Pinkie’s brother. Actually, now that she thought about it, Lila had said that she was pretty sure, not completely sure. Gary had told her that his sister, Violet, had given him the Jeep. Violet could have bought it from a car lot. And all this could be a coincidence. Things like that happened, didn’t they?

  * * *

  Hannah wiped down the counters of their booth for the sixth time as she waited for everyone to leave so that she could talk to Gary alone. Norman had gone home to shower and change clothes, and Michelle had gone off to Dick’s bar to have a glass of wine and meet her friend, Trish, who was working the afternoon shift today. Trish would take Michelle to The Cookie Jar to get her car, and then all three of them—Norman, Trish, and Michelle—would meet at Hannah’s condo at seven to have leftover Chinese food and fresh pizza that Norman had promised to bring.

  There were only a few vendors left in the convention hall, and Hannah took heart. It wouldn’t be long now. She told herself again that all she had was circumstantial evidence linking Gary to Pinkie and there really wasn’t any reason to be overly suspicious. Even if Pinkie’s brother’s name happened to be Gary, he might not be the Gary who’d been Pinkie’s brother. And even though Gary had told Hannah that everything Violet sold was handmade on consignment and she’d found a label that said the cookie ornament Tracey had bought was made in China, that could have been Gary’s mistake. Perhaps Violet had ordered the ornaments for a friend, or even for her personal Christmas tree at home, never intending to sell them at her shop. Actually, even the fact that Violet’s name hadn’t been on the patient list of any hospital or rehabilitation facility that they’d called could be explained. Violet could have been discharged before they’d called and now she was at home, being cared for by her part-time assistant who worked at the store.

  Then there was the fact that Violet’s store, Many Hands, wasn’t listed in the telephone directory or with the Better Business Bureau. This could also be easily explained. Violet could be following the lead of so many businesses and was using her cell phone number for business. And the fact that she wasn’t listed with the Better Business Bureau wasn’t that unusual either. If there had been no complaints about her business, Violet might not have chosen to pay to be listed with them. The last and final piece of circumstantial evidence could also be explained quite easily. Pinkie’s brother, whatever his name, could have sold Pinkie’s Jeep after she died, the car lot could have had it repainted black so that it would sell more easily, and Violet could have purchased it for Gary. Michelle had a used car, and they had no idea who the previous owner was. They hadn’t even thought to ask Cyril. Most people who bought used cars checked the history of the car itself, but not the history of ownership. Everything Hannah had that pointed her to Gary as Pinkie’s brother was entirely circumstantial.

  The coffee Hannah had poured for herself before she’d cleaned out Sally’s coffeepots was sitting in a large Styrofoam cup on the counter. It was still almost full and she picked it up and took a sip of the lukewarm brew while she waited.

  Finally, Gary’s last customer left. Hannah knew that somehow she needed to trip Gary up and catch him in an outright lie. And she’d need proof of Gary’s outright lie for Mike. Hannah used the app on her cell phone to record her upcoming conversation with Gary, picked up her coffee, and walked over to Gary’s booth.

  “It was nice having you for a neighbor Gary,” she said, hoping to get him completely off-guard for the probing questions she planned to ask.

  “And it was nice talking to you,” Gary told her. “If you’re ready to leave, I’ll walk you out to the parking lot.”

  “Thanks,” Hannah said politely. “I just wanted to ask you a couple of questions and it’s too cold to talk outside.”

  “Ask away,” Gary told her, shrugging into his parka and pulling on his winter driving gloves.

  Hannah glanced at his gloves. They were black, padded leather gloves. All the better to choke you with, my dear! the suspicious part of her mind cautioned. You’d better be very careful now.

  “Michelle and I felt sorry for your sister, Violet, and we were going to send her some cookies,” Hannah gave him the excuse she’d rehearsed in her mind. “You didn’t mention where she was hospitalized, so we called around but we couldn’t find her.”

  “When did you call?”

  “Last night.”

  “That explains it,” Gary said with a smile. “The doctor released Violet yesterday morning. She’s home now.”

  “Oh, no wonder,” Hannah pretended to believe him. “We also thought about sending cookies to her business address, but it’s not listed with the Better Business Bureau.”

 
“Violet never bothered to do that, and everyone’s always been happy with anything they’ve gotten at her store.”

  “But she doesn’t have a business phone, either.”

  “Sure, she does. She uses her cell phone number. She had a landline for a while, but the only calls she got were from salesmen. Anything else you want to know? Or can I leave for the Cities now?”

  Back off! the rational part of Hannah’s mind warned. He’s getting suspicious, and that’s dangerous if he’s the killer.

  “Just one thing,” Hannah told him, deciding to go for broke. “Why are you driving Pinkie’s Jeep?”

  “Who?” Gary asked, looking completely puzzled.

  “Pinkie. Her real name was Mary Jo Hart. Your Jeep was pink before you had it painted black.”

  The expression on Gary’s face changed from slightly suspicious to icy cold and menacing. “You think you got it all figured out, don’t you, Hannah?”

  “Maybe, maybe not,” Hannah said quickly. “There is no Violet, is there, Gary?”

  “Of course not,” Gary admitted, giving her a hard look. “I heard you were a good detective, and it’s true.”

  “Thank you,” Hannah said quickly, “but there’s still something I don’t know. Did you drug that candy and send it to P.K.?”

  “You bet I did! He ruined Mary Jo’s life! She killed herself because of him. Did you know that?”

  “I heard about her suicide. Did she get the pills from Dr. Benson?”

  “Of course! She had some left, and I wanted P.K. to die the same way. It was only right! He killed her, you know. He made her crazy enough to take those tranquilizers and kill herself. It’s the same as if he’d put a gun to her head and shot her!”

  “But weren’t you afraid that Ross might get that candy instead of P.K.?”

  “He was long gone. And even if there’d been some collateral damage, it didn’t matter. I did it for Pinkie. It’s what P.K. deserved!”

  Hannah felt her mouth go suddenly dry as Gary leaned forward and glared at her.

  “And now you know too much.”

  “Don’t worry,” Hannah said quickly. “Everyone will understand why you did it. You were grief-stricken about Pinkie. They’ll understand.”

  Gary laughed. It was an insane laugh, almost hysterical, and Hannah knew she’d reached the end of the line. Then he sobered, and his eyes began to glitter with deadly intent.

  “This time it won’t be drugged candy. I’ll be putting out your lights personally! And it’ll be a real pleasure for me!”

  Hannah gasped as Gary reached down and picked up a large hammer, the kind that people in construction used for framing a house. Then he looked up with the most evil expression Hannah had ever seen.

  Get out of here! both parts of her mind, the rational and the suspicious, warned her. He’s going to kill you!

  It was the first time that both parts of her mind had agreed about anything, but Hannah didn’t waste time thinking about that. She raised her coffee cup and threw the contents straight into Gary’s face. And then she whirled and ran toward the open door to the hallway as fast as she could.

  As she approached the doorway, Hannah heard a thud, but she didn’t turn around to see what it was. She just kept on running, hoping that the splashed coffee had done its job and Gary had slipped and fallen.

  Hannah sprinted down the long hallway that separated the convention center from the main part of the inn. The hallway was dimly lit and completely deserted. Everyone else who’d worked at the convention hall had already left. The huge floor-to-ceiling windows on one side of the hallway looked out on the lake, and the other side had a lovely view of the pine forest. But Hannah had no time to appreciate the beauty of nature tonight, not when she was being chased by P.K.’s killer!

  Hannah’s eyes were focused straight ahead, scanning the carpeting for any obstacles she might encounter in her headlong dash to the safety of the inn. And then she saw it in the distance, her goal, the open door that led into the restaurant. Panting heavily from the unaccustomed exertion, Hannah raced to the doorway and dashed through.

  Soft dining music was playing, but Hannah didn’t hear it. Waiters and waitresses in stylish uniforms were serving their guests, but Hannah barely noticed them. Behind the plate glass windows in the front of the dining room, kitchen workers were busily stirring, pouring, and mixing the contents of various-sized cooking pans over huge, professional stoves. Hannah noticed none of it. She was too focused on saving her life.

  She was almost ready to drop from exhaustion when she spotted a table in the center of the room and recognized Bill and Andrea. She rushed toward them, too out of breath to shout, and grabbed the first thing she saw on their table, the silver cover that their waiter had just removed from Andrea’s entrée.

  Hannah turned to see Gary coming at her, the hammer raised high in his hand, and she jammed the silver entrée cover into his face.

  Things happened very fast as the waiter stepped out of the way and Gary fell backwards to the floor, dropping the hammer as he clawed at the silver cover that was jammed over his face. Hannah grabbed the heavy hammer and hit the entrée cover as hard as she could.

  Andrea gasped. “Hannah! What are you . . . ? Oh!”

  “Cuff him!” Hannah managed to gasp out, hammering away to keep Gary on his back on the floor. “Hurry! He killed P.K.!”

  Bill motioned to two of his off-duty deputies who were sitting at a neighboring table, and they sprang into action to flip Gary over on his stomach and cuff him. Bill relieved Hannah of the hammer and slipped an arm around her shoulders. “He killed P.K.?” he asked her.

  “Yes! He sent that drugged candy! I’ve got his whole confession on . . . on my phone!”

  “Deputies?” Bill motioned to them. “Does either one of you have a phone like Hannah’s?”

  “I do,” one of them said, examining Hannah’s phone.

  “Do you know how to send that taped confession to me?” Bill asked him.

  “Sure. It’s an app. I can do it right now, if you want me to.”

  “Yes,” Bill told him.

  “There’s an unsent text with photos. Do you want me to send that, too?”

  “That’s up to Hannah.” Bill turned to her. “Do you want him to send it?”

  Hannah nodded, too shocked to speak. She hadn’t sent the photos of Gary’s car to Mike. No wonder he hadn’t responded!

  “Hannah?” Bill prompted her again.

  “Yes, but it doesn’t matter now,” she managed to say, glancing at Gary, handcuffed on the floor. “Everything turned out all right in the end.”

  A moment or two later, the confession arrived on Bill’s cell phone. “Good work,” he said, glancing at the display. “Take him down to the station. Leave the cuffs on, lock him up, enter that hammer and entrée cover into evidence, and I’ll take it from there. And then come back here and have a nice dinner on me, anything you want.”

  Once the deputies had left with their prisoner, Bill leaned down to kiss Andrea. “Sorry about date night,” he said. “I know you were looking forward to seeing that movie.”

  To Hannah’s surprise, instead of looking disgruntled or disappointed, Andrea just laughed. “It’s okay, honey. I’m glad we both drove. Right now, all I want to do is go home and have a glass of wine. I’ve already had all the entertainment that I can handle for one date night.”

  Chapter Thirty-two

  As Hannah took the familiar road home, she began to relax. P.K.’s killer was behind bars, and now they could work on finding Ross’s second storage locker. Except for missing Ross and wishing that he would come home, everything was back to normal again. They’d lucked out and caught P.K.’s killer, the daily profits from selling cookies at Sally’s convention had netted at least three times the daily profit they made at The Cookie Jar, and they had found one of Ross’s storage lockers and rescued the contents before they’d gone up for public auction. On the whole, it had been a good outcome. And to cap it all off, Andrea
wasn’t even upset that Bill had cut their date night short. She’d been too busy laughing about the sight of Hannah straddling Gary and hammering away at the entrée cover that was stuck on his face.

  Snow was gently falling as Hannah turned into her condo complex, used her key card to open the wooden slat that served as a gate, and drove down the pretty lane that led to her condo building. If Ross were here right now, they’d put on their parkas and walk down the path that led around the man-made lake inside the condo complex. They’d hold hands to keep warm, and they might even stop under one of the tall pines and share a kiss.

  As she imagined that kiss beneath the sheltering branches of the pine, a phrase popped into her mind. It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Would it have been better if she’d never seen Ross again and fallen in love with him? Or was it better to have experienced his love, even for such a short while? Hannah wasn’t sure. All she knew was that she’d never felt so alone and abandoned.

  As she passed the guest parking lot, Hannah noticed Mike’s car. And a little further down, she spotted Norman’s car, too.

  She smiled. She might have known that Mike would be here. His food-dar had probably told him the moment Norman had called to order the takeout pizza. Since neither Mike nor Norman had been sitting in their cars, Hannah continued to the end of the lane and drove down the ramp into the garage she shared with the other condo owners. Since Norman had a key, they must be inside.

  When she climbed up the covered staircase to her condo on the second floor, Hannah noticed that Moishe was perched on the living room window sill. That was a good sign. It meant that the RoboVac hadn’t tired him out too much today. She waved at him, and to her delight, he raised his paw to wave back.

  Hannah unlocked the door, braced herself, and pushed it open. Moishe hurtled out, just as she’d anticipated, and landed in her outstretched arms. And then he did something new, something he’d never done before. He extended his paws, claws retracted, and patted both of her cheeks at once.