Cherry Cheesecake Murder (25 page)

Hannah’s Note: You’re really supposed to chill this dough, but if you absolutely positively can’t wait to bake them, you can. Just be prepared to wet your hands frequently as you roll the cookie balls so the dough won’t stick to them.

For Hannah, who was beat to the bone, the rest of the afternoon seemed to drag on forever. As the witnesses were released they left the coffee shop one by one, but it was seven o’clock by the time the coffee shop was empty and Hannah waved Lisa out the front door.

Moishe was waiting, tethered to her favorite round table by the window and Hannah pulled out a chair to sit down. She petted her feline almost automatically as she gazed out the window and waited for Mike to finish his last interview in the kitchen.

Night had fallen and there wasn’t any traffic on Main Street. Everyone had gone home and now that six o’clock supper was only a memory, most folks were sitting in their living rooms or their family rooms, watching the latest sitcom. Another group of people, the ones who lived alone, were banded together at the Lake Eden Municipal Liquor Store, where the television set above the bar would be tuned to the Timberwolves as they took on the Miami Heat.

Hannah put her head down on the table and cradled it with her folded arms. She was just thinking about how nice it would be if she could be magically transported to the couch in her own living room when Mike came out of the kitchen followed by the subject of his last interview, Ross.

“Hannah?”

“Huh?”

“Hannah…wake up!”

“I’m awake.” Hannah looked up at Mike and blinked. “Can I go home now?”

Ross reached down to pat her shoulder. “Come out to the inn for dinner first. I just checked with Sally and she’s serving coq au vin until nine.”

Hannah glanced at Moishe, who looked every bit as tired as she felt and made a unilateral decision. “No thanks, Ross. Moishe and I are heading straight home. I don’t know when I’ve been so tired.”

“That’s my fault,” Mike said, reaching out to pat her other shoulder. “I should’ve taken those last couple of witnesses out to the station so you could go home.”

“S’okay,” Hannah said, slurring her words just a bit. The hard work she’d done and the sleepless nights she’d experienced had taken their toll. She was seriously considering turning out the lights and sleeping right there in the coffee shop rather than driving all the way home.

Hannah was barely awake enough to notice as Ross and Mike stepped back from the table. She heard their voices, but they must have moved away toward the back of the shop because she couldn’t make out what they were saying. They were probably talking about her, but she was simply too tired to care. She shut her eyes, nestled close to her purring cat, and drifted back off to sleep.

When Hannah opened her eyes again, she thought she was seeing triple. Three pairs of eyes were staring down at her. Then she realized that Norman had joined Mike and Ross, and she sat up, blinking. “Sorry about that. Guess I fell asleep.”

“I guess you did,” Mike chuckled as he handed Moishe to Norman. “Come on, Hannah. Ross is going to bring you your coat and things, and Norman’s going to drive you home.”

“But I don’t need anybody to…”

“Yes, you do,” Mike cut off her protest. “You’re tired and you could fall asleep on the road. I’d drive you myself, but I’ve got to get down to the station to file my reports. And I’ve got a briefing scheduled with Lonnie and Rick.”

Mike had said the magic words and Hannah woke up fast. He must have found out something if he had to brief Lonnie and Rick. This was a perfect time to pump him for information. Norman had taken Moishe back to the kitchen for one last trip to the litter box, and Ross had gone with him to get Hannah’s coat and purse. Hannah’s short nap had revived her, and she knew she’d never have a better chance to find out what Mike knew. “So you learned something from your interviews?” she asked.

“A couple of things. Number one, Miss Larchmont wants to direct.”

Hannah came close to laughing out loud. “Of course she does. There isn’t an actor or actress alive who doesn’t want to direct.”

“But she’s going to get the chance now that Dean’s dead. I interviewed Ross and he said he’s going to give her a shot at it.”

“Oh,” Hannah said and then she was silent. That put a new light on it. But had Lynne known she’d get the opportunity to direct if something happened to Dean? That was the important question. “Anything else?”

“The wardrobe mistress…what’s her name?”

“Sophie.”

“That’s right. Sophie said that Miss Larchmont and her husband were arguing in their room last night.”

“What about?”

“She doesn’t know. She was passing by and she heard angry voices, but she didn’t stick around to listen. She told me she decided it was none of her business and walked on down the hallway.”

Right, Hannah thought, but she didn’t say it. She’d find out what had really happened from Sophie tomorrow.

“I don’t know if that means anything, but we’ll add it to the mix,” Mike said. “And then there’s the set decorator.”

“What about him?” Hannah asked, seriously doubting that Jared would have had anything to do with Dean’s murder.

“One of the witnesses saw him close to the desk right before the first take.”

“That may or may not be important,” Hannah said, but she made a mental note to write it down in her shorthand notebook just as soon as she could. “Jared could have been rearranging something on the desk top.”

“Maybe, but it’s something I have to check out. And so far that’s about it. Nobody remembers, for sure, who went near the desk. It’s like you told me at Granny’s Attic. People didn’t pay any attention to the desk until the actors went over there.”

“Did you watch all the tapes? Maybe one of the cameramen caught someone fiddling with the desk drawer.”

“What tapes?”

Hannah stared at Mike in surprise. “I thought you knew. Dean taped all of his rehearsals.”

“Nobody told me!” Mike looked thoroughly astounded.

“That’s probably because they thought you knew. From what I heard, it was standard operating procedure. They taped it all, including the rehearsals where Dean played someone else’s part.”

“Thanks for telling me, Hannah,” Mike said, flipping open his notebook and jotting it down. “I’ll check with the head cameraman in the morning. Is there anything else you think I should know?”

Hannah shook her head. Mike looked very grateful for the information she’d given him and this was the time to ask her most important question. “How about the search at Granny’s Attic? Did you find the prop gun?”

“No.”

“But the killer couldn’t have taken it with him. They searched everyone, didn’t they?”

“Even Mayor Bascomb, and he wasn’t too happy about that.”

“I’ll bet he wasn’t!” Hannah said, giving an amused grin as she pictured their mayor, a man who was accustomed to giving the orders, being ordered to stand in line with everyone else to be searched by a sheriff’s deputy.

“So…either the prop gun’s still there and you haven’t found it yet, or the killer took it with him and left early, without sticking around to witness the result of his switch.”

“You’re right. And if the killer left early, he must have gone out the back way. Nobody came past me and I was standing right there by the front entrance waiting for my cue.” Mike stopped talking and his eyes narrowed. “It sounds to me like you’re thinking about investigating.”

“Absolutely not.”

“You promise?”

“You bet. I promise you that I won’t investigate.”

Mike was still staring at her and Hannah wondered if he smelled a rat. She’d told the truth the way she saw it, narrowly construed. He opened his mouth to ask another question, one Hannah hoped wouldn’t be too probing, when fate intervened in the form of Norman with her coat and her purse.

“Here you go, Hannah,” Norman said, handing over her parka coat and her shoulder purse. “Ross had to run back out to the inn. Somebody beeped him and he said it was important. He told me to tell you he’ll touch base with you later tonight or first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Okay,” Hannah said, pushing aside a little twinge of disappointment that Ross hadn’t come to tell her so himself.

“If you’re ready, I’ll load Moishe.”

“I’m ready,” Hannah said, standing up and letting Mike help her into her coat. The little nap she’d taken had done her a world of good. She wasn’t at all sleepy, but she certainly was ravenous and she could hardly wait to get home and make something to eat.

Twenty-five minutes later, as Hannah climbed the stairs to her condo, she sniffed the air. Unless she was hallucinating, someone was having Chinese Food for dinner. She turned to Norman, who was right behind her, and asked, “What do you smell?”

“Chinese. Somebody’s having hot and sour soup, kung pao chicken, house special chow mein, pork fried rice, scallops with fresh mushroom, shrimp and snow peas, and one duck’s web plain, without the special soy sauce.”

There was a yowl from the cat in his arms and Norman laughed. “I think the Big Guy knows all about that last menu item.”

“He does. Whenever I order take-out Chinese, I always get one duck’s web without the special soy sauce for him. He loves to chew on it and chase it around on the kitchen floor.”

“So I heard. That’s why I ordered all that stuff, and asked your sisters to pick it up on their way here. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Mind?” Hannah’s stomach gave a mighty growl. “I don’t mind at all. You may have saved my life.”

“If you’re tired, we’ll leave,” Michelle offered, gathering up the white boxes that sat on Hannah’s big, round coffee table, closing the lids, and preparing to stash them in Hannah’s refrigerator.

“Actually…” Hannah paused to take stock of her mental state. “I’m not tired anymore. I think I got about twenty minutes’ sleep waiting for Mike to finish interviewing Ross, and it took the edge off.”

“Sometimes a twenty-minute nap is all you need,” Andrea said. “I read it in one of my parenting magazines.” She stopped and began to frown. “You’ve got to promise not to tell Tracey I said that. I have enough trouble getting her to bed at a reasonable hour as it is.”

You mean Mrs. McCann has trouble getting Tracey to bed, Hannah thought, but she remained silent. There was no way she’d take such a nasty shot at her sister.

“Of course now that Mrs. McCann is living in to take care of Bethany, I don’t have that problem,” Andrea went on, almost seeming to read Hannah’s mind. “Do you think I’m a bad mother for not staying home to take care of my daughters?”

“No!”

“Of course not.”

“Never.”

They all spoke at once, hotly denying that suggestion. All three of them knew that Andrea wasn’t cut out to be a stay-at-home mom. She was a consummate social being who needed the stimulation of other people to be happy and fulfilled.

“Good.” Andrea was smiling again as she opened the small white bag that sat in the center of the table and passed out fortune cookies. “Let’s all read our fortunes out loud. You go first, Michelle.”

Michelle broke her fortune cookie in half and drew out the folded strip of paper inside. “Aim for the stars to reach the moon.”

“That’s almost profound,” Norman said, cracking his cookie open. “Mine says, ‘Helping others is its own reward.’ How about you, Andrea?”

“True beauty is like the night.” Andrea wore a puzzled expression when she looked up from the strip of paper. “What does that mean?” Everyone shrugged and she gave a little laugh. “That’s what I thought. They must have left out a couple of words. What’s yours, Hannah?”

“I don’t really like fortune cookies.” Hannah pushed hers over to Norman. “I’ll trade you for your almond cookie.”

“Deal.” Norman said, handing over his almond cookie. “If you’re up to it, Hannah, we want to talk some more about Dean’s murder. I’ve got some ideas.”

“Fine with me,” Hannah said, reaching for her purse. She got out the steno book they’d used earlier at Lake Eden Realty and shoved it across the table to Andrea.

“You’re sure you’re not too tired?” Michelle looked concerned.

“I’m positive. I couldn’t sleep through that racket anyway.”

All four of them turned toward the kitchen, where Moishe was trying to spear the duck’s web with his claws and drag it out from behind the garbage can. He yowled every time he failed, but he didn’t stop trying.

“So what did you get out of Mike?” Norman asked after crunching a bite of his fortune cookie. “Ross said you talked to him while we were in the kitchen.”

“Lynne wants to direct and Ross is going to give her the chance now that Dean’s dead. That’s another motive for her, Andrea.”

“Got it,” Andrea said, flipping the notebook open to the list of suspects and adding a second motive for Lynne. “Anything else?”

“Mike didn’t know that Dean taped all his rehearsals. I told him and he said he’d check the tapes in the morning.”

“Then I’d better call Clark.” Michelle got out her cell phone and punched in a number. “He’s in charge of collecting all the tapes. I can always run out to the inn and screen them if you think they’re that important.”

Hannah nodded. “Good idea. You’d better call Mother and tell her where you’re going. She’ll worry if you stay out at the inn too late.”

“No, she won’t. She told me to come and go as I please.”

Andrea exchanged glances with Hannah. “That doesn’t sound like the Mother we know and love,” she said.

“I know. She also told me she’ll have dinner with me, but she has her own plans after dinner every night this week.”

Hannah started to frown. “I wonder what plans she could have. There aren’t any club meetings. They all canceled their activities until the movie company leaves town.” She turned to Norman. “Are the mothers going somewhere together at night?”

“No. Except for the night they went out to dinner with you and Ross, my mother’s been home watching television.”

“Then what’s Mother doing?” Andrea looked worried. “You don’t suppose it’s another man, do you?”

“It’s possible, I guess,” Hannah conceded.

“But right after Winthop? I mean…wouldn’t you think she’d wait?”