Sugar Cookie Murder (14 page)

Andrea laughed. “I was going to tell you . . . really. I just wanted to draw it out a little and build up the surprise. Mary Kay Hinklemeyer was born in Browerville, Minnesota!”

“Browerville?” Hannah asked, hardly daring to believe her ears. “Now we’re getting somewhere! There’s got to be someone here who used to live in Browerville, or someone who has relatives in Browerville. They would have known Mary Kay when she was growing up, and they’d probably know the family.”

“I’m back!” Michelle announced, rushing up to their table. “I talked to Mike and told him everything that Brandi told me.”

“Great. I hoped he appreciated it.”

Michelle shrugged. “I don’t think so. I was just getting to the part about the ring when he got a call and he told me he’d talk to me later.”

Hannah thought about that for a moment. The ring could be important, but Mike didn’t seem all that interested. Perhaps he was just snowed under by too much information coming at him at once. She could help. She could go upstairs and tell him that the ring appeared to be a bone of contention between Martin and Brandi, and it could be important. She could also describe it, thanks to Andrea.

“Ready to go back to work?” Hannah asked, noticing that Andrea had eaten both cookies.

“Sure,” Andrea said, taking a last gulp of coffee. “That Tea Cookie was great! What do you want us to do?”

“Canvass the room and see if you can find anyone who knew Brandi when she lived in Browerville.”

“Browerville?” Michelle looked excited when Hannah nodded. “I know a couple kids who come from there. I can ask. Do we know her last name?”

“Yes, thanks to Andrea. It’s Mary Kay Hinklemeyer. Just take the names of everyone who knows the family and we’ll question them later.”

“Okay,” Andrea levered herself to her feet. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to beard the lion in his den and tell him that Brandi’s engagement ring might be important.”

“Yes?”

The voice that barked out when Hannah knocked on the door Mike was using as an office caused her to step back in pure reflex. Mike didn’t sound very friendly. “I’m sorry if I’m interrupting, but I need to talk to you.”

“Come.”

That response wasn’t very friendly either, but Hannah shrugged and opened the door. “It’s about Brandi’s engagement ring. Was it on her body?”

“You don’t need to know that.”

“Fine. But then you don’t need to know what kind of ring it was and what it was worth. And you also don’t need to know that Martin and Brandi were fighting about whether she should wear it in public, or not.”

“Okay . . . sorry, Hannah.” Mike gestured for Hannah to come in and shut the door. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I apologize.”

“That’s okay. I know you’re under a lot of pressure.” Hannah sat down in the chair in front of the desk. “What do you want to know first?”

“Describe the ring. I’ll take notes.”

Hannah emptied her pockets of crumpled napkins and found the correct one. “Emerald in the center, at least two carats, perhaps larger. Surrounded by Tiffany-cut diamonds of approximately a half-carat apiece. The setting was platinum. That’s very expensive.”

“And the total estimated cost?” Mike asked, looking up to meet Hannah’s eyes.

“Uh . . . “ Hannah took a deep breath and tried to keep her stomach from doing aerial gymnastics. Mike looked tired and haggard, and sexier than any other man on earth. “Andrea saw it, and she estimates close to fifty thousand. Do you think Brandi was killed for her ring?”

“It’s possible.”

“Then it wasn’t on her finger?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to,” Hannah said, giving him a smile. Perhaps it wasn’t fair when he was so tired, but she always felt good when she could outwit Mike. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything else. And just send someone to get me if you need me for anything.”

“I always need you, Hannah.” Mike bent over the desktop to touch his lips to hers. “Don’t ever think I don’t. Now go back and amuse yourself. I’ve got work to do here.”

Hannah headed out door not sure whether she should be pleased or angry. Mike had said he always needed her, a compliment if she ever heard one. But he’d also told her to go amuse herself because he had work to do, a thinly veiled insult that negated his earlier compliment. Did that mean they were even?

Still debating the scorecard between them, Hannah headed back to the banquet room. As she descended the stairs, she saw Michelle at the bottom waiting for her.

“Good, you’re back. I’ve got something. It’s not exactly what you were expecting, but it’s something you should know.”

“Okay, what?” Hannah asked, leading Michelle over to an unoccupied corner.

“I asked Bertie Straub about the Hinklemeyer family, but Bertie didn’t know them. I was about to move on, but then Bertie told me some really interesting gossip. She said Mrs. Bascomb thinks the mayor met Brandi on his last trip to Vegas. Bertie heard then arguing about it. I think it’s true, Hannah. They’re sitting about as far apart as two people can get at the same table.”

“You didn’t try to talk to them?”

“No, I thought I should wait and tell you.”

“A wise decision,” Hannah said. “And while you’re a lot more tactful than I am, I think this is a job for Mother.”

“Mother?” Michelle sounded shocked.

“Yes, Mother. She used to babysit for Mayor Bascomb, and she’ll get the truth out of him.”

“You’re going to sic Mother on him,” Michelle said, looking pleased. “I admire you for thinking of it, Hannah. That’s completely diabolical.”

Hannah approached the table with reluctance. She really wasn’t looking forward to dealing with Winthrop again, but perhaps she could spirit her mother away for a private talk. “Mother?”

“Why, hello!” Delores called out, greeting Hannah and then reaching out to take Winthrop’s hand. “This is quite an experience for Winthrop. He’s never been stuck in a blizzard before.”

“Right, dear girl.” Winthrop patted her hand and then pulled his away. Either he’d read the disapproval in Hannah’s eyes, or he was of the opinion that holding hands in public was tacky.

Hannah resisted the urge to tell him that the only way to experience a blizzard was to get out there alone and walk a couple of blocks, and she turned to her mother instead. “Could I see your for a moment, Mother?”

“Of course. Sit down, dear.”

“No. I mean . . . I need to see your privately.”

Delores frowned slightly. “Whatever it is, you can talk about it in front of Winthrop. We have no secrets from each other.”

“Maybe you don’t have any secrets from Winthrop, but I do.”

“That’s only as it should be,” Winthrop said, and then he turned to Delores. “Go have a little coze with your daughter, dear girl. I’ll be perfectly fine here.”

“Coze?” Hannah repeated, as her mother got up and followed her to an unpopulated spot near the Christmas tree that Andrea had decorated.

“Comfy coze. I know they used the term in Regency England, and I assume it’s still in use today. It means an intimate chat. Oh, dear!”

Hannah glanced in the direction her mother was gazing and had all she could do to keep from grinning. The moment Delores had left the table with Hannah, three women had converged on Winthrop. Carrie Rhodes was now seated on one side of him, Bertie Straub was on the other, and Florence Evans had taken the chair directly across from the British lord.

“Sharks in a feeding frenzy,” Delores muttered. And then she turned to frown at Hannah as her eldest daughter gave a startled laugh. “Well, they are.”

“You could be right.” Hannah saw Carrie give Winthrop her sweetest smile, and she pulled her mother around to the other side of the Christmas tree where she wouldn’t be distracted.

“What’s so important?” Delores asked a bit sharply.

“Murder, Mother.”

“Murder?” Delores whirled to face Hannah instead of attempting to see Winthrop and the three women through the branches. “Here?”

“Yes.”

Delores rolled her eyes toward the angel at the top of the tree. “Don’t tell me you found the body!”

“Shhh!” Hannah cautioned, putting her finger to her lips. “Mike doesn’t want anybody to know about it yet.”

“You have got to stop finding dead people, Hannah! Winthrop’s going to get the wrong impression of you.”

“Right,” Hannah said, biting back several additional comments that would have assured her mother’s immediate defection.

“Well, who was it this time?”

“Martin Dubinski’s new wife. She was stabbed in the parking lot.” Hannah’ knew that discretion was the better part of valor and she decided not to mention that her mother’s antique cake knife was the murder weapon.

“Good heavens! Do they know who did it?”

“Not yet. That’s the other reason nobody can leave.”

Delores was nothing if not perceptive. Her eyes narrowed and she bent forward to stare at her daughter. “You mean . . . the killer could still be here?”

“That’s what Mike thinks. Anyway, I need your help with the mayor. Bertie overheard them fighting. She told Michelle that Mrs. Bascomb was accusing her husband of knowing Brandi in Vegas.”

“Knowing? As in the Biblical sense?”

“I think so. And that could be the reason Mrs. Bascomb was so upset.”

“Poor Stephanie,” Delores said with a sigh. “With his track record, she’s probably right. And you want me to ask him if it’s true?”

“Yes. I know you two go way back, and I think he’s still a little afraid of you.”

“He should be. Fear was the only thing that kept him in line the summer I worked for his mother. I’ll do this one on one. It’ll work better that way. You wait here and keep an eye on Winthrop. If he looks desperate, go rescue him.”

Fat chance, Hannah thought, taking a peek through the branches. Winthrop looked as happy as a clam to have three women doting on him. “Okay, Mother. Good luck.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it. Intimidation is an art form, and don’t you dare forget it!”

Hannah was just thinking about going over to spill some coffee on Carrie, who was definitely poaching in her mother’s absence, when Delores came up smiling broadly.

“You found out?” Hannah guessed.

“Of course I did! I had him completely on the defensive from the very start. Ricky-Ticky was all set to spend a few intimate hours with Brandi when he went to Vegas last October, but he had a few too many and passed out in his hotel room before he could meet her in the bar for their date.”

“Date? That’s a polite way of putting it.”

“That’s exactly what I said. And then I asked him if he had to pay her anyway.”

“Mother!”

“I was curious.”

“So am I. Well? Did he pay her?”

“Only half. That was the up-front part. He was supposed to pay the other half later.”

“Do you think he was telling the truth?”

Delores nodded. “I’m almost positive he was. It would have been less embarrassing if he’d lied and said he’d been with her.”

“You’re right. Good work, Mother. It’s too bad Mrs. Bascomb doesn’t know she has nothing to worry about on the Brandi front.”

“I’d tell her, but Ricky-Ticky deserves a rough time for his past flirtations.”

“Nicely put, Mother.”

“Yes, wasn’t it? And speaking of flirtations, I think I’d better get back to Winthrop before my partner and the woman I hope might be your future mother-in-law does something I can’t forgive.”

Hannah ducked into the kitchen to see if she could find an empty spot to gather her thoughts. Earl Flensburg had obviously finished eating and left, because the circular booth the builder had put in to accommodate the kitchen workers was empty. Hannah carried Earl’s plate to the sink, rinsed it off, and slipped it into the hot soapy water that Edna had left for dishes that came in after the load in the industrial dishwasher had been started. Then she grabbed a mug of coffee from the kitchen pot, slid into the booth, and pulled her stash of crumpled napkins out of her sweater pockets.

Once she’d straightened out all the napkins and placed them in order, Hannah surveyed the results of the investigation so far. They’d eliminated two suspects, Martin and Shirley, and although Babs didn’t have an alibi, her motive was weak. Babs had been prepared to get along with Brandi for her son’s sake. She might have hoped that Brandi would leave Martin, but it was unlikely that Babs would have killed her new daughter-in-law just to get her out of the way.

Mayor Bascomb’s name was under Babs Dubinski’s. Hannah had written it down when Michelle had told her that Lake Eden’s first couple was fighting about Brandi. But Delores had found out that nothing happened between the mayor and the stripper-turned-bride. Hannah picked up her pen and drew a line through Mayor Bascomb’s name. If nothing happened between them, the mayor had no reason to kill Brandi.

Way down at the bottom of the napkin was a name that appeared on every suspect list that Hannah had ever written. Someone Unknown was the name, and Reasons Unknown was the motive. And in order to figure out who Someone Unknown was, Hannah needed to know more about Brandi’s life.

Hannah was sure there were people in Las Vegas that she could interview, but they were there and she was here at the Lake Eden Christmas party in the middle of a blizzard. Perhaps she couldn’t learn anything about Brandi’s recent past, but she could certainly find out more about Brandi’s school days at Browerville High.

The moment Hannah thought of it, she was on the move, stuffing the napkins back into her sweater pockets and heading out to talk to Marge Beeseman. The Lake Eden Journal had reported that the community library, run by Marge, had been designated as the tri-county repository for school documents.

Marge was sitting at a table with Lisa and her dad. Hannah greeted them all and then she turned to Lisa. “Where’s Herb?”

“He’s helping Mike with something or other.” Lisa leaned closer and spoke in a barely audible voice, “They don’t know.”

Hannah turned to Marge. “Congratulations about the tri-county repository designation.”

“Thank you. It’s a lot of work going through all the documents, but we et a very generous stipend for storing the material.”