Sugar Cookie Murder (18 page)

“Make sense,” Michelle said, nodding quickly. “What do you want us to do?”

“Just observe for right now. We need to canvass the whole community center and make a list of every woman who’s wearing a black skirt or dress.”

“That shouldn’t take long if we split up,” Norman said, pulling a notebook from his camera bag. “I’ve got a couple of extra pens, if anyone needs them. They’re leftover Rhodes Dental Clinic giveaways from last Christmas.”

Michelle raised her hand. “I need one. My roommate gave me five dollars for the last one you gave me. she said she’d never seen a pen shaped like a toothbrush before and she just had to have it.”

“Maybe I should give up dentistry and manufacture pens for a living,” Norman quipped. “Where do you want me to start, Hannah?”

“Will you take the south end of the banquet room and work your way to the center? That way Michelle can start on the north end and meet you halfway.”

Andrea began to frown. “How about me? You want me to help, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. I need someone to check every room up here and that’ll give you a chance to check on Tracey. And don’t forget the high school girls who came up here to watch movies in the library. Let’s just make lists for now. We won’t ask anybody any questions yet. We can meet in the lobby in twenty minutes to compare notes.”

“What are you going to do, Hannah?” Michelle asked.

“I’ll canvas the kitchen, the ladies’ room, the cloakroom, and the dance floor. But first, I’m going to talk to Mike and tell him about the lady in the black skirt. It’s only fair. And I’ll let him know that we’re doing the legwork and we’ll leave the actual questioning up to him.”

“And you really think he’ll believe you?” Norman did his best to maintain a straight face and failed.

“Of course he’ll believe me. It’s the truth. It’s just as I told Michelle and Andrea earlier. It’s a different situation, this time around. Mike’s shorthanded, and I’m going to give him all the help I can.”

The door to the room Mike was using as a temporary office was closed, and Hannah stood there, frowning. She didn’t want to interrupt, but the information she had could lead to the capture of Brandi’s killer. Mike might be angry at the interruption, but he’d be grateful just as soon as she told him why she needed to talk to him.

Hannah knocked and put a welcoming smile on her face. Mike would be startled to see her, but he was bound to be pleased once she’d had her say. She shifted from foot to foot, waiting for the sound of the latch clicking open, but the door remained closed.

“Come on, Mike,” Hannah muttered, knocking again, a little harder this time. Again, she waited, her smile in place, but no one answered the door.

It was possible Mike had left. He could be in another part of the community center, checking up on a lead. Perhaps she should open the door. If Mike wasn’t there, she’d leave him a note telling him she had urgent information for him.

Hannah turned the knob and eased open the door. Mike was there, and he was in the middle of an interview. If the scowl on his face was any indication, he wasn’t at all happy about being interrupted.

“I’m busy here, Hannah,” Mike said, waving her away.

“I can see that. I’m really sorry to interrupt, but I have to talk to you right away. So if you could just step outside in the hall, it’ll only take a second or two.”

“No.”

“No, it’ll take longer than a second or two? Or no, you won’t come out in the hall?”

“No to both. I’m in the middle of an interview here. I’ll talk to you, later, Hannah.”

“But you don’t understand. I came here to help you. This is really important, Mike!”

“I said later, Hannah. Please don’t interfere. I’m trying to run an official investigation, and I don’t have time to talk to you now. Just shut the door and let me get on with my job, okay?”

Hannah shut the door, perhaps just a wee bit harder than was necessary. She’d given Mike his chance, and she thought she’d been extremely polite about it. And now she didn’t have to feel the least bit guilty when she caught Brandi’s killer and did his job for him.

Hannah was still fuming as she went down the stairs. As always in times of great stress, she headed straight for the kitchen. Not only would it make her feel better to be in the room at the community center she liked best, but she could check out the ladies who were helping in the kitchen at the same time.

Edna’s after-dinner helpers were working to clean up the kitchen, wash the serving bowls, and store the leftover food until it could be taken to Reverend Strandberg’s soup kitchen in the basement of the Bible Church and the Lake Eden Convalescent Home. All it took was one glance to see that no one was wearing black.

The dance floor was next. Hannah found a table near the edge of the area that had been set aside for dancing and sat there watching the couples as they danced. The light was fairly dim and she had a few anxious moments when she spotted Cheryl Coombs in what she thought was a black skirt, but before she could even begin to wonder what possible motive Cheryl could have for killing Martin’s new wife, Cheryl’s partner danced her closer and Hannah realized that her skirt was dark green.

The cloakroom was next. Hannah went into the long, narrow room and flicked on the overhead light. There was a startled gasp and she turned to see the high school couple she’d interrupted. The girl blushed as she smoothed her hair and the boy gulped. “Sorry, Miss Swensen. We were just . . . uh . . . “

“It’s okay. I don’t want to know,” Hannah said, interrupting his effort to put a spin on what had obviously been a romantic moment. “Shouldn’t you be dancing, or something?”

“That’s a great idea. ‘Bye, Miss Swensen,” the girl said, grabbing her boyfriend’s hand and pulling him out of the cloakroom before things could get even more awkward.

Hannah grinned as she watched them hurry out the door. The girl was wearing blue, and they’d obviously been the only ones here. She was about to leave to check the ladies’ room when she spotted a small puddle of water on the floor next to a tote bag, the kind women used to carry their shoes when they were wearing their boots.

Her curiosity aroused, Hannah unzipped the bag and examined the shoes. They were a pair of standard black pumps with a small heel, the kind many women wore for dress. There was nothing unusual about the shoes themselves, except for the fact that they were soaked. Hannah picked up a pair of boots placed under a coat on the next hook. They were dry. She checked another pair and her suspicions were confirmed. The woman who’d worn the wet shoes had been outside recently. But why would someone go outside in dress shoes when they had their boots with them? Hannah figured that the lady in question must have been in too much of a hurry to switch to her boots.

It was a second bit of information, and Hannah intended to take full advantage of it. All she had to do was look for a woman in a black skirt, or dress, who was wearing boots. There couldn’t be that many of them.

Hannah headed off to the ladies’ room to do some uncharacteristic primping while she checked out the other women who were there. Unfortunately, since her brush was in her purse, and her purse was in a drawer in the kitchen, her primping was limited to running her fingers through her hair. She couldn’t even freshen her makeup, since all she was wearing was lipstick, and the Pretty Girl lipstick that Luanne had sold her before she’d gone to work at Granny’s Attic was still sitting on Hannah’s dresser at home.

Luckily, it didn’t take lone to check out the occupants of the ladies’ room. Hannah said hello to Charlotte Roscoe and Sally Laughlin, in red and light blue respectively. Then Carrie, wearing winter white, came in and Hannah greeted her, too. She was about to leave when she noticed a pair of feet wearing boots in one of the stalls.

“I just wanted to tell you that Norman’s doing a great job with the photographs,” Hannah said to Carrie, wishing that she had inherited the gift of making polite chitchat.

“Of course he is. Norman’s wonderful at whatever he does.”

“True,” Hannah was quick to agree, “Anyway, the reason I mentioned it is that if Savory Press uses any of Norman’s photos in the book, he’ll get credit as a photographer.”

“I’m sure he’ll like that,” Carrie said, pulling Hannah over to a corner. “What’s the matter? Why are you staring at that stall?”

Hannah sighed. She’d obviously been obvious. “I need to know who’s in there.”

“Why?”

“A man sent me in to check on his date. I don’t know her, but she’s wearing a black skirt.”

“Your mother’s right. You don’t have a deceitful bone in your body.”

“What?”

“Tell the truth, Hannah. You made up that whole story about a man and his date, didn’t you?”

“Oh. Well. . . “

“Never mind. I’m sure you have a good reason for wanting to know. Hold on for a minute and I’ll find out for you.”

Hannah held on. What else could she do? And a minute or two later, Carrie was back.

“Striped skirt, silver and blue,” Carrie announced in a sibilant whisper. “Is that all you wanted to know?”

“That’s it. Thanks, Carrie.” Hannah turned and headed for the door.

“I’ve got a question for you, Hannah.”

Hannah prepared herself mentally to lie again if it was necessary. “What is it?”

“I want to know what you think of Winthrop.”

“Oh. Well . . . I only met him briefly” — Hannah stalled while she tried to think of something innocuous to say — “but I did think he made a very strong first impression.”

That seemed to satisfy Carrie, and Hannah managed to escape. As she entered the banquet room again, she glanced at her watch. She had five minutes before she could meet her sisters and Norman in the lobby and give them the new information she’d learned. That was just time enough for a fresh cup of coffee.

As Hannah headed for the kitchen, she noticed that Babs Dubinski was sitting alone. Babs looked glum, and Hannah certainly couldn’t blame her. This whole week had been a series of shocks for her. First there was Martin’s unexpected marriage. And then there was his choice of wife, a Las Vegas dancer. There was the money Martin had spent on Brandi, money that should have gone to his sons. Now Brandi was dead, and that was another big shock, even though Babs hadn’t liked her.

Hannah gave a little wave as she neared the table where Babs was sitting. “Hi, Babs. I’m just going to get some fresh coffee. Do you want me to bring you some?”

“That would be nice.” Babs reached out to hand Hannah her empty cup. “No sense dirtying another.”

Hannah took the cup, and that’s when she noticed that Babs had teamed her dark red silk blouse with a black skirt. She was so startled, she almost dropped the cup and that gave her an excellent idea.

“Uh-oh!” Hannah said, and she dropped the cup deliberately. “Good thing it was empty. Hold on a second. I’ll trash it and get you a new one.”

Hannah moved to retrieve the cup, hoping that Babs wouldn’t guess it had been an excuse to bend over to check her footwear. She glanced at Babs’s feet and barely managed to stifle a gasp. Boots! Babs was wearing boots with her black skirt!

If you see someone in a black skirt, just write down the name and don’t ask any questions, Hannah’s own advice floated through her mind. Be really careful. We don’t know if we’re dealing with a material witness or with Brandi’s killer.

Hannah straightened up to stare at Babs for a minute, and then she plunked down in a chair, all set to ignore her own advice. She couldn’t imagine Babs as a killer, but the circumstantial evidence was mounting up. There was no way Hannah could wait to talk to her sisters and Norman. She had to strike while the iron was hot.

“What’s the matter, Hannah?” Babs looked concerned.

“This is serious, Babs. I want you to tell me exactly what happened in the larking lot with Brandi.”

“With Brandi? What do you . . . “ Babs broke off I the middle of what was sure to be a denial and gave a shuddering sigh. “Al right. I can’t stand to keep this to myself any longer. I’m the one who killed Brandi, but it was an accident. You’ve got to believe me, Hannah!”

Hannah grabbed a clean napkin with a poinsettia on the front. Andrea could translate it later. “Just tell me the truth, Babs, and I’ll believe you.”

“Part of the reason I didn’t like Brandi was that I didn’t trust her. The first time Martin brought her to the house, I think she took my watch.”

“You think she took it? Aren’t you sure?”

“I wasn’t sure enough to accuse her. The band pinches a little, so I only wore it when I went out. I usually kept it by my chair in the living room, or in a dish on my dresser, or in the kitchen on the windowsill. Well, after Martin and Brandi left, I couldn’t find my watch. I tore the place upside down and backwards looking for it, but I couldn’t swear for certain that I hadn’t misplaced it myself.”

“I understand.”

“That’s the reason I had my eye on Brandi tonight. I wanted to make sure she didn’t steal anything and give Martin a bad name around town.”

“Did she steal anything?” Hannah asked, although she already knew the answer.

“She stole your mother’s antique knife. I watched her do it Hannah, she draped her mink over her arm and sidled up to the dessert table as pretty as you pleas and pretended to be looking at the platter of cookies you and Lisa made. She picked up a couple, I watched her, and then she moved on down the table to look at the cake. She was so fast, I almost didn’t see her, but she grabbed the knife, hid it in her coat, and headed for the kitchen door.”

“And you followed her?”

Babs nodded. “But first I looked around for Martin. After all, she was his wife, and he could have taken care of it. Martin and Shirley were both gone, so there was only one thing for me to do. I followed Brandi into the kitchen to confront her. I was going to make her put the knife back.”

“Was in the kitchen?”

“No, it was deserted. But the pantry light was on, and when I looked inside, I noticed the door to the parking lot wasn’t shut all the way. I stuck my head out and there she was, heading across the lot.”

“So you went out after her.”

“Yes. I thought about running back inside for my coat and boots, but I didn’t want to give her time to hide the knife. I hadn’t gone more than a couple of yards when I heard a car door slam and a motor start running over the sound of the wind. Brandi was in Martin’s car, and there was only one reason she would have started it. She was going to leave, and I had to stop her.”