Fudge Cupcake Murder

by Joanne Fluke

  Hannah had just finished baking an extra batch of Pecan Chews for a special order when the phone rang. Since Lisa didn’t pick up right away, Hannah assumed that she was waiting on a customer and grabbed the wall phone in the kitchen. “The Cookie Jar. Hannah speaking.”

  “I’m glad you answered, Hannah.”

  “Hi, Mother,” Hannah said quickly. Delores sounded a trifle breathless. “Where are you?”

  “I’m at a pay phone on the street outside The Pink Giraffe. Guess who got that bear chair for Christmas!”

  Hannah rolled her eyes heavenward. “Sheriff Grant is dead, Bill’s the prime suspect, Norman’s in Seattle and he could be playing spin the dental drill with his ex-fiancé, and I’m on the outs with Mike. My life is pretty grim right now…and you want me to play guessing games?”

  “I’m sorry, dear. Let me rephrase that,” Delores sounded only slightly apologetic. “It’s just that I’m so surprised. My friend at The Pink Giraffe said that they shipped the bear chair to Suzie Hanks!”

  “Luanne’s daughter?”

  “Yes. What do you think that means?”

  Hannah blinked. And then she blinked again. “I’m not sure, but I’ll find out. Don’t say anything to anybody until you hear from me, all right?”

  “But…but…but…”

  Delores was sputtering like a badly tuned motor and Hannah interrupted. “Calm down, Mother. It might mean nothing at all.”

  “But how could that be?”

  Hannah thought fast. “Nettie’s active in quite a few charities, isn’t she?”

  “You know she is.”

  “Let’s say one of her charities decided to give a really nice Christmas gift to a needy child. Suzie Hanks would certainly fit the bill.”

  “That’s true,” Delores sounded thoughtful. “But why would Nettie tell Claire that she was looking for a present for a relative?”

  “Maybe there were other people in Claire’s shop and Nettie was protecting the child’s identity. You know how touchy Luanne is about accepting charity.”

  There was a long silence. Hannah knew that her mother was thinking it over. The silence stretched out with only the faint crackles on the line, the earmarks of a long distance call. Finally Delores cleared her throat and spoke again. “You have a point, Hannah. And Nettie’s smart enough to realize that Luanne would have packed up that chair and sent it right back if she’d known it was charity. But do you think that’s really what happened? It seems pretty far-fetched to me!”

  “I know it does, but it’s possible.” Hannah tried to sound as if she believed her own story. “You just keep mum until you hear from me. I’ll run right over to Granny’s Attic and find out from Luanne personally.”

  “Luanne’s out at the Ferguson family farm auction. They’re selling a wonderful treadle sewing machine, and there’s an oak butter churn that I have my heart set on buying. There’s some milk glass, too, and you know how popular that is. Promise me you won’t disturb her when she’s bidding, Hannah. She has to concentrate.”

  “I won’t disturb her, but I need to get to the bottom of this. And just as soon as I do, I’ll tell you.”

  Delores made a little sound of distress. “You have no idea how difficult it’s going to be not to tell a few of my closest friends and get their opinion on…”

  “Don’t you dare!” Hannah interrupted with a warning.

  “All right, I won’t. My lips are sealed until I hear from you. But I’d better hear from you soon!”

  Once Hannah had explained things to Lisa, she headed out to the Ferguson farm. It was only a mile from the site of Norman’s new house and since his contractor and crew weren’t there, Hannah pulled into the driveway to see how the house was progressing.

  “How about that? It’s beginning to look like a house,” Hannah said to the purple grackle that was pecking at something in the yard. The foundation had been poured, the framing was complete, and the workmen had almost finished the sheer walls. Once the roof was on and the doors and windows were secure, it would be snug for the winter.

  Even though Norman had invited her to come out to see the progress several times in the past, Hannah felt a bit like an intruder as she opened the front door. Actually, opening the door was a bit silly. The tall windows that would go on either side of the door were still missing and she could have simply stepped through the framing. All the same, there was something wonderfully ceremonial about turning the knob and opening the front door of the house they’d designed together for the dream house contest.

  “Nice,” Hannah said, stepping into the foyer and gazing up at the staircase that led to the second floor balcony. Then she climbed the stairs and headed down the hallway to the children’s bedrooms. They looked like empty boxes now, but Hannah could imagine a boy’s room with model airplanes hanging from the ceiling, and a girl’s room with a window seat where she could sit and dream. There was another room for an office or hobby room…and then there was the master bedroom.

  Hannah held her breath as she entered the master bedroom. It was exactly as she had imagined, with an outside balcony where the happy couple could have coffee in the morning and look out over the lake. There was also a river rock fireplace that would keep the room toasty in the winter and provide a romantic touch.

  Hannah sighed past the lump in her throat. She suspected that all it would take was a little more encouragement and Norman would propose. Then this house would be hers, this wonderful house she’d designed with a man she firmly believed would make a near-perfect husband. The only thing stopping her from giving Norman the encouragement he’d need to make the whole thing official was the curse of indecision. How could she accept a proposal she’d engineered from Norman when she wasn’t sure that she was willing to give up her relationship with Mike?

  And what relationship was that? Hannah thought with a frown, the altercation they’d had about Bill foremost in her mind. But even though she was at odds with Mike for not trusting and supporting her brother-in-law, there was still an attraction between them she couldn’t deny. As much as she loved the idea of living in the dream house she’d helped to design, she knew she wasn’t ready to make that choice.

  She glanced around her one more time and headed for the stairs. She’d dealt with enough for one day and there was still the meeting with Luanne to consider. The front door banged as she shut it behind her and Hannah tried not to think of how final it sounded as she hurried to her cookie truck. Her love life, or lack of it, was becoming a problem, but she didn’t have the time to deal with it now. Norman could wait. Mike could wait. The important thing now was clearing Bill by solving Sheriff Grant’s murder.

  Chapter

  Eleven

  T

  he Ferguson family farm was large, with land stretching out as far as the eye could see from the two-story farmhouse that sat smack dab in the middle of the acreage. Hannah drove up to the house and parked, then followed the cardboard signs to the pole barn where the auction was being held. As she approached, she could hear Chuck Ganz, the auctioneer, rattling off numbers and patter so fast that it almost sounded as if he spoke in a foreign language. Chuck had once told Hannah that it took three things to be an auctioneer: a good memory for numbers, a quicksilver tongue to spit them out as fast as the ear could hear, and the courage of a grizzly to get up in front of all those people and risk making a fool of yourself.

  It sounded like the bidding was just winding up, and Hannah stopped inside the open door to listen for a moment. Chuck stood on a platform at the opposite end of the shed, gesturing expansively and talking nonstop. Dressed in unremitting black from head to toe, he sported a wide yellow tie that he claimed was his personal beam of sunshine on a cloudy day. It was something he said at the start of every auction and not really very funny, but people liked Chuck and they always laughed because he expected them to.

  “Sold for eighty-three dollars to the gentleman in the tan hunting jacket,” Chuck called out, banging his gavel on the podium. “P
ay the banker on your way out.”

  Hannah spotted Luanne sitting next to an empty chair near the middle of the crowd. Several people had gotten up to stretch and Chuck was fortifying himself with another mug of coffee from the big thermos he kept in back of the podium. Hannah headed down the center aisle between the folding chairs and squeezed past knees to get to the vacant chair next to Luanne.

  “Hi, Hannah.” Luanne looked surprised to see her when Hannah slid into the chair. “Are you here to bid on something?”

  Hannah reached down to rub her shin. A man wearing pointy-toed cowboy boots had moved just as she was trying to inch past him. “No, I came out here to talk to you.”

  “Just a second.” Luanne glanced down at her auction book. “I need to bid on something in this next lot.”

  The bidding started and Hannah watched as Luanne raised her auction paddle. Almost simultaneously, Chuck pointed to her and rattled off a musical string of numbers. Luanne raised her paddle again, but this time Chuck acknowledged her with a nod and swiveled to repeat several other bids. Hannah turned to survey the room. Paddles were popping up all over. Luanne must be bidding on a very popular item. The bidding slowed once, faltered, picked up again, and then slowed a second time. If Hannah had judged the competition correctly, there was only one person bidding against Luanne, an older man with snowy white hair who was wearing a gray suit. Hannah studied him surreptitiously, but she didn’t think she’d ever seen him before. Perhaps he was one of the “auction junkies” that Chuck had told her about, the crowd of men and women who made the circuit of the farm auctions, hoping to pick up antiques at low prices that they could turn around and sell for a tidy profit.

  Chuck was on “going twice” before Luanne raised her paddle again. She had a bored expression on her face, and she gave a little shrug to the man in the gray suit as if to “I’m not sure I really want this, but I’ll give it one last bid.” The man in the gray suit frowned slightly and gave his own shrug, lowering his paddle and nodding toward her.

  “Sold! To the pretty little lady in the green sweater,” Chuck called out, pointing to Luanne.

  “Great!” Luanne said, giving Hannah a smile of triumph. “Your mother’s going to love the antique spinning wheel I just bought.”

  Hannah smiled back. Luanne was right. Delores loved spinning wheels. But discussing antiques wasn’t why she’d come out to the auction to see Luanne. “I really need to talk to you, Luanne.”

  “Okay. Just let me listen to what’s coming up next.”

  Hannah watched Chuck take his place behind the podium again. He banged his gavel to get everyone’s attention and waited until the crowd was silent.

  “Lot number two-six-nine, ladies and gentlemen. We call this one our sporting package. Six hand-painted duck decoys, a stuffed moose head in A-one condition, two bowling balls, a rod and reel that’s seen better days, and a tackle box full of fishing lures.”

  Luanne turned to Hannah. “We can talk now. I’m not bidding on anything until they get to the upstairs furniture. Carrie’s interested in a sleigh bed that belonged to Mrs. Ferguson’s mother-in-law, and there’s a dresser set from the fifties that your mother wants for a decorator who’s doing her client’s bedroom in retro.”

  “I don’t like retro. It’s so yesterday.”

  “But it’s very popular with…” Luanne stopped speaking when she noticed Hannah’s grin. “I get it. Retro. Yesterday. Really, Hannah!”

  “Sorry. I couldn’t resist.” Hannah took a deep breath. This wasn’t a venue that invited confidences, but no one was paying any attention to them and she had to broach the subject of the bear chair with Luanne.

  Luanne seemed to catch Hannah’s mood, because she began to frown. “What is it, Hannah? You look upset.”

  “I am. I need to know why Nettie Grant bought that bear chair for Suzie last Christmas.”

  “Oh!” Luanne was so startled, her hands flew up to her face. Unfortunately, the paddle was still in her right hand and Chuck interpreted that as a bid and announced it. Both Luanne and Hannah listened with frowns on their faces as Chuck trolled the room for other bids, but no one else seemed to be buying. After several more minutes of patter, Chuck pointed to Luanne and announced that she’d won.

  “I’m sorry, Luanne,” Hannah said, the soul of contrition. She hadn’t meant to make Luanne bid on something she didn’t want.

  “That’s okay. It was only ten dollars over the minimum bid.”

  “How much is that?” Hannah asked, already planning to reimburse Luanne for her loss.

  “Forty dollars. The moose head is worth three times that and we can get ten dollars or more apiece for the decoys.”

  “So you came out all right?” Luanne nodded and Hannah breathed a big sigh of relief. “Okay. Let’s get out of here before I make you bid on something else.”

  After a chorus of pardon me ’s, Hannah and Luanne finally exited the pole barn and picked their way down the rutted road to the house. It was deserted, but Hannah made her way unerringly toward the kitchen.

  “No chairs?” she asked, gazing around at the empty room.

  “They sold them with the kitchen table.” Luanne said, taking up a position to the right of the kitchen sink. “I know. I bought them.”

  “Well…there’s always the counters,” Hannah said, hoisting herself up on a kitchen counter and waiting until Luanne had done the same on the other side of the sink.

  “Nettie bought Suzie that chair because she’s her grandmother,” Luanne blurted out, her eyes meeting Hannah’s in an unwavering gaze. “Jamie Grant was Suzie’s father.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “No one knew, not even my mother.” Luanne gave a deep sigh. “She doesn’t know to this day. But now that you’ve tracked it down this far, I guess there’s no point in keeping secrets.”

  Hannah winced, feeling as guilty as sin. “I’m sorry, Luanne. I know it’s your private business, but…”

  “You have to know,” Luanne finished the sentence for her. “It’s okay, Hannah. I’m sure you won’t tell anyone you don’t have to tell. Besides…the reason I couldn’t tell anyone before is…uh…there’s no polite way to say this, but…my reason is dead.”

  “Sheriff Grant?”

  “Yes. He threatened to cause all sorts of trouble if I told.”

  Hannah listened as Luanne filled in the blanks. The summer before she started her senior year at Jordan High, Luanne went with her mother to clean the sheriff’s station. That’s where she met Jamie, who was home from college. As Hannah nodded sympathetically, Luanne told her about the hot summer evenings when she’d walk out to meet Jamie at the end of Old Bailey Road. If they felt like going somewhere, they’d take in a movie at the mall, or go out to Eden Lake for a late night swim. Other times, when they wanted to be alone, Jamie would bring along a six-pack and they’d park on the old logging road that overlooked the lake. Luanne was thrilled to be dating a college guy and she saw Jamie almost every night for the two weeks before he left to go back to college.

  “I know I was foolish,” Luanne admitted with a sigh.

  “A lot of girls are at sixteen,” Hannah said, remembering how thrilled her high school friends had been when a Jordan High graduate who was now a “college man” had come home for vacation and asked one of them out on a date. “When did you discover that you were pregnant?”

  “Not until Jamie was gone. I wrote him a letter to tell him and I said I wanted to keep the baby. I really believe he cared about me and he would have done the right thing. Maybe we wouldn’t have gotten married, but I know that he would have helped me with the baby. But the day after I mailed the letter, Jamie got killed in that car wreck. He never even got the chance to read it.”

  “What happened to your letter?”

  “Someone from the dorm boxed up all of Jamie’s things, including the unopened letter from me, and mailed the box to the Grants.”

  “Did they open your letter?”

  “Yes, and both
of them read it. Sheriff Grant made Nettie promise that she’d keep quiet about it and stay away from the baby.”

  “But why?” Hannah was shocked.

  “Because I’m trash…at least that’s what Sheriff Grant called me.” Luanne took a deep breath and sat up a little straighter. “He said I got pregnant on purpose to trick Jamie into marriage. He even accused me of seducing Jamie.”

  Hannah gave a little snort. “Number one, you know you’re not trash. And number two, it takes two to tango.”

  “I know that. And so did Sheriff Grant, but he wouldn’t admit it. He came out to the house to see me and he said that if I ever told anyone that I was carrying Jamie’s baby, he’d make my life miserable.”

  “That’s pretty harsh,” Hannah commented, her frown deepening.

  “I know. He was a harsh man. He told me that his son’s name and memory were unblemished and he was going to make sure they stayed that way. He also said that if I was smart and I kept my mouth shut, he wouldn’t have to change any personnel out at the sheriff’s station.”

  Hannah was puzzled. “What did he mean by that?”

  “My mother had a contract to clean out there three times a week. It was our main source of income.”

  Hannah felt sick. “So he coerced you into silence by threatening to fire your mother?”

  “He didn’t exactly threaten, at least not in so many words, but I knew he’d fire my mother in a heartbeat if I didn’t cooperate.”

  “So that’s why you kept silent about Suzie’s father?”

  “That’s one reason. The other reason is that it was nobody’s business but Jamie’s and mine. And Jamie was dead.”

  “So is Sheriff Grant,” Hannah said, her eyes narrowing slightly. “It must be a relief now that he can’t threaten you any longer.”

  Luanne swallowed hard. “Not really. Remember when I dropped that umbrella stand? It was because I’m so scared. I’m in big trouble, Hannah, and the whole thing’s bound to come out.”