Peach Cobbler Murder (17 page)

“Which people are . . . they . . . them . . . who?” Andrea sputtered, never the master of the objective case. And then she rephrased her question. “Who are you going to grill first?”

“I ought to grill me since I had a great motive, but I already know I didn’t do it.”

“Who else?” Andrea asked.

“You,” Hannah said with a sigh.

“What!” Hannah’s sister reached a new level of outrage. “what are you talking about?”

“Well . . . you didn’t like the fact that Bill went to the Magnolia Blossom Bakery almost every day.”

“That’s true, but I wouldn’t have killed Shawna Lee for that. if I’d killed anyone, it would have been . . . never mind. You can grill me if you want to. It’s just not going to work out, that’s all.”

“I know that, but I had to say it to be fair. And then there are the deputies that Shawna Lee flirted with,” Hannah went on. “Their wives and girlfriends certainly had a reason to want Shawna Lee out of the picture.”

“Absolutely,” Delores agreed. “And there’s Ronni Ward.”

“Ronni?” Hannah was surprised. “But I thought they were friends.”

”They were until Shawna Lee decided she liked Ronni’s boyfriend. Ronni caught them together in a booth at Bertanelli’s and Ellie told me she thought Ronni was going to kill Shawna Lee before Bert and the dishwasher pulled her off.”

“I wonder how I missed hearing about that,” Hannah mused, jotting down Ronni’s name. “I don’t like doing it, but I’ve got to write down Barbara Donnelly’s name. She was really angry with Shawna Lee for trying to take over her job when Sheriff Grant died and Barbara was out on compassionate leave.”

Carrie’s mouth dropped open. “But I know Barbara, and she’d never do something like that!”

“Of course not, but we can’t discount it, not until we prove she couldn’t have done it.”

“And how do we do that?” Delores wanted to know.

“That’s where you and Carrie come in if you want to help.” When both mothers nodded, Hannah went on, “Andrea just told us that Shawna Lee died between five and seven. Lisa’s wedding started at five. I looked at my watch when I heard the wedding march. What time did it end?”

“Six-fifteen,” Andrea said, with the wedding consultant’s voice of authority.

“Okay. Let’s figure fifteen minutes to kiss the bride, and throw rice, and offer congratulations. How long does it take to get out to the Lake Eden Inn for the reception?”

“Fifteen minutes, maybe twenty,” Herb said.

“Okay, that’s ten to seven. The first people should have started to arrive a little before seven.” Hannah turned to the mothers. “Are you up for making some phone calls?”

“That’s what we’re best at,” Carrie said, smiling at Delores. There was a guest book in the church, and another at the reception. I’ll give you a copy of the suspect list and you’ll check to see if they were at the wedding. If they were, you’ll look for their names in the reception guest book.”

“What good will that do?” Delores asked. “Someone could have left the church, killed Shawna Lee, and driven out to the Lake Eden Inn to attend the reception.”

“That’s true, but you can bracket the names,” Hannah explained. And one of Lisa’s cousins was standing at the entrance to the dining room at the reception, asking people to sign the guest book when they came in.”

“Of course,” Delores said. “All we have to do is call the name ahead of a suspect and the name behind a suspect and see if they remember what time they got to the reception.”

“That’s right.” Hannah smiled at her mother, who’d caught on instantly. “If the suspect took longer than half an hour between leaving the church and arriving at the reception, that suspect could have had time to kill Shawna Lee.”

Delores turned to Carrie, who nodded. Then she turned back to Hannah. “We’ll take care of it.”

“Great! Now all we have to do is clear Mike.”

“You mean Mike Kingston?” Andrea asked.

“Yes. He had an appointment with Shawna Lee at his apartment the night she was killed.”

“An appointment?” Carried looked as if she couldn’t quite believe her ears. “What does that mean?”

“That’s what he called it. He said he had to get things straight with Shawna Lee. After that, he said he planned to drive out to the reception to hook up with me.”

There was silence for a long, long moment and then Andrea stepped into the breach. “Sorry, Hannah. We didn’t mean to embarrass you. But do you believe him?”

“I don’t know.” Hannah swallowed hard. “I’d like to believe him, but I’m not sure I do. What if he wasn’t telling the truth about the time of his appointment with Shawna Lee?”

“That’s possible,” Delores said with a shrug, “but he could simply be mistaken. Heaven knows men aren’t good with time. You father wasn’t.”

“Okay, let’s give him the benefit of the doubt on that. But what if the appointment he told me about was really a date?”

Andrea looked shocked. “But he had a date with you for the reception!”

“I know that. Maybe he was planning to squeeze two dates into one evening. Whatever. But just for the purpose of discussion, let’s say that Mike’s appointment with Shawna Lee really was a date. And when he went to the Magnolia Blossom Bakery to pick her up, he found her with another man and shot her?”

Carrie was aghast. “but he’s a sworn sheriff’s deputy!”

“That’s true,” Norman said, “but not even sworn sheriff’s deputies do the right thing all of the time. Mike could have seen Shawna Lee with another man and shot her in a jealous rage.”

“But how about the other man? What happened to him?” Delores asked.

“He was probably just leaving. Mike was a couple minutes early and he stood there looking in the window, getting more and more jealous as Shawna Lee kissed this other guy good-bye. And then, once the other guy was out of the picture, Mike pulled out his gun and shot her.”

Andrea gave a little laugh. “That’s impossible. The first thing they do is check the ballistics, and all the department guns are on file. They’d know right away that Shawna Lee was shot with Mike’s gun.”

“How about his personal piece?” Hannah asked. “Is that one file, too?”

“What personal piece?”

“The handgun he carries in his body belt. It’s a Colt Mustang.”

Delores looked surprised for a moment, and then her eyes narrowed. “How do you know about his body belt?”

“He showed it to us when Norman and I went over to the gym at his apartment.”

“Oh,” Delores said, all smiles again.

“Do you really think Mike could have killed Shawna Lee in a jealous rage?” Andrea asked.

“It’s possible,” Hannah said immediately. “People in a jealous rage don’t think, they just act. I really don’t want to believe Mike could do something like that, but what I believe doesn’t count. Let’s just say I’m not a hundred percent sure he wouldn’t do it.” Hannah looked over at Norman and gave a relieved sigh, “At least you couldn’t have done it, Norman. You were taking the wedding and reception pictures at the time.”

“Only part of the time. The rest of the time, I was on the road. Everyone who’s come into the dental clinic knows that I was upset that you and Lisa might have to close. Who’s to say that I didn’t stop by the Magnolia Blossom Bakery on the way to the reception and knock off your competition?”

The first thing Hannah did when she got home from the Corner Tavern was to fill her pathetically yowling feline’s food bowl for the fourth time that day. The second thing she did was preheat her oven so that she could test the cookie dough she’d brought home with her. When Norman had dropped her off at The Cookie Jar to pick up her truck, she’d dashed in to get it. There were two bowls, a small one and a large one. The large one contained the cookie dough and the small one contained the frosting. The frosting was easier to work with if it was chilled, and Hannah had no qualms about simply putting it in the back of her vehicle and transporting it home to her condo kitchen. Keeping something chilled was not a problem for the owner of a drafty cookie truck who needed a new heater to reach the nether regions of her vehicle.

Once the oven had reached baking temperature, Hannah got out a cookie sheet, sprayed it with nonstick cooking spray, and assembled the cookies. She’d been working on this recipe for weeks, attempting to get it just right.

By the time the rest sheet of cookies came out of the oven, Hannah’s eternal craving for chocolate had grown into a hunger that could not be denied. The cookies she was testing were chocolate, but with chocolate it was always a case of more is better, and she went to the freezer for ice cream. She hadn’t felt like having dessert after the mothers, Andrea, and Norman had thoroughly discussed several murder scenarios with Shawna Lee as the victim and Mike as he cold-blooded killer.

The cookies looked delicious, but looks were often deceiving in the pastry world. If they didn’t pass muster, Hannah would be ruthless and they’d end up sweetening the malodorous depths of her condo building’s Dumpster.

As she dished double chocolate fudge ice cream into one of the cut glass dessert dishes Delores had given her as a Christmas present, Hannah considered what they’d accomplished when they’d met for dinner. Everyone had wanted something to do and Hannah had given out assignments. Andrea would find out anything she could about Mike’s whereabouts during the critical hours. Delores and Carrie would tackle the job of going over the wedding and reception guest books to see if someone on the suspect list had taken too long to get from the wedding to the reception. They’d also make a list of guests who’d attended the wedding only, guests who’d attended the reception only, and those people who’d been invited but hadn’t shown up at either. Norman would talk about Shawna Lee’s murder with his patients and gauge their reactions to her death. He’d ask probing questions and call Hannah immediately if he discovered someone wasn’t on the suspect list who’d had a motive for wanting Shawna Lee dead. He’d also hold himself available to help Hannah sleuth after hours.

Hannah hadn’t mentioned it at the dinner, but she had her own agenda. As far as she was concerned, Shawna Lee’s death was a case of too many suspects. Instead of proceeding the way she usually did by making a list of people with motives, checking their alibis, and eliminating them one by one, she had decided that putting practically every female in Lake Eden on her suspect list would be counterproductive. Hannah planned to concentrate on tracking Shawna Lee’s movements on her last day.

Hannah had a starting point for a time line. It was hours before the ceremony at St. Peter’s had started, but it would have to do. She would go out to Bouchard’s Bouquets and talk to Kyle. When he’d delivered her roses, he’d told her that he was also delivering roses to Shawna Lee.

“Rowwww,” Moishe said, nudging her arm, and Hannah realized that she’d been frozen in the act of dishing up ice cream. Moishe wanted his, and she couldn’t blame him. There was nothing like ice cream on a night that was twenty below zero, and she had the refrigerator magnet to prove it.

Hannah glanced at the magnet that was stuck to her refrigerator door. It read, “Lake Eden Snowmobile Rescue” and they’d come around the first winter after she’d bought her condo. The access road had been impassable and they’d wanted to know if she was out of any staples. Hannah had said yes, she was out of chocolate ice cream. She’d been deadly serious, but they’d thought she was joking and hadn’t brought her the ice cream. Hannah had suffered through two days of sniffing the empty chocolate chip bag before the roads had opened up again and she’d been able to drive out for chocolate ice cream.

“Hold on, Big Guy,” Hannah said, using Norman’s nickname for her feline. “I’ll get you a dish of vanilla and we’ll have our dessert in the living room.”

Hannah grabbed two cookies. They weren’t quite cool, but she figured she might as well give them a three-part test. She’d try them warm, room temperature, and the next morning for breakfast.

Once Moishe’s scoop of vanilla ice cream had been carried to the coffee table in an identical cut glass dessert dish, Hannah settled down to some serious eating and so did her cat. The cookies were good and Hannah was pleased. And the ice cream, a new designer brand that Florence at the Red Owl had recommended, didn’t disappoint. It wasn’t until the last cookie crumb was gone and the spoon scraped the bottom of Hannah’s dish that either one of them spoke.

“I don’t think Mike did it, do you?”

“Yowww,” Moishe commented, extending his long pink tongue to reach the inside of the rim of his dessert glass.

“Is that a yes? I know you’re crazy about Norman, but you like Mike too . . . don’t you?”

“Rowww,” Moishe said, looking up with a perfectly neutral expression.

“Forget I asked. I’ll go get more cookies. I don’t think chocolate’s good for you, but you can have a little of the frosting.”

Once she’d carried their dessert dishes back into the kitchen and come back with two more cookies, Hannah applies herself to her role as official tester. The cookies were now at room temperature and they were delicious that way. Delores would love them. She’d always been especially fond of German Chocolate Cake, and these were German Chocolate Cake Cookies.

The phone rang and Hannah glanced at the clock. Only nine. It could be her mother. But Moishe wasn’t bristling, and that meant it was probably someone else.

“Hello?” Hannah answered, swallowing her last bite of cookie.

“Hi, Hannah. It’s Phil from downstairs, except I’m not downstairs, I’m at work.” Phil sighed. “Did that make sense?”

“Sure. What can I do for you, Phil?”

“Well, I stopped by Granny’s Attic this afternoon to pick up a painting that Sue really like. It was a surprise for our anniversary. Your mother waited on me and she mentioned Moishe was a really good mouser.”

For one brief moment, Hannah wondered how that conversation had started. Then she placed her hand over the receiver and groaned. She knew what was coming and it was bound to entail a trip down the stairs in subzero cold for both woman and beast.

“I know it’s late and you get up really early, but this is kind of an emergency. Sue just called me in a panic. She saw a mouse run into Kevin’s bedroom closet and she’s really afraid of mice. I told her I’d set a trap when I got home, but I know she won’t sleep a wink all night. Do you think you could . . . “