Cherry Cheesecake Murder (29 page)

The first room they searched was the largest room in the trailer, the one at the end of the hallway. Hannah opened the door and gave a smug smile. She’d been right. It was the master bedroom and Dean hadn’t changed it. The large bed it had been designed to accommodate was the focal point of the room, and the only concession to office work was a conversational grouping of four barrel-backed chairs around an octagonal coffee table.

“So what did he use this room for?” Hannah asked, almost certain that she knew the answer to her own question.

“Private rehearsals. If one of the actors was having trouble with a scene, Dean would bring them here to go over it. But I’m pretty sure he used it for other things, too.”

“Right. You start with the closet and see if there’s anything of interest in there. I’ll check the coffee table and the little chest of drawers by the bed.”

Hannah went through the coffee table quickly. There were a few magazines, a couple of books, and several yellow legal-size pads. A ceramic holder was filled with an assortment of pens and pencils, and a couple of decks of cards were tossed into a basket with a bridge score pad. Unless someone had gotten completely bent out of shape over a rubber of bridge and killed Dean in retaliation, she hadn’t found a thing.

“How are you coming?” Hannah asked, aiming her question at the closet.

“Fine. I’m almost through.”

“Me, too.” Hannah headed over to the small dresser, but all it contained were CDs for the sound system. Hannah paged through them. There were show tunes, blues, movie sound-tracks, and some pop classical. It was quite apparent that they were carefully generic, and Hannah suspected that they’d come with the Winnebago and were meant to appeal to anyone who rented the giant vehicle.

“I didn’t find anything interesting,” Michelle said, emerging from the closet just as Hannah shut the dresser drawer.

“Neither did I. Let’s go search the rest of the trailer.”

Fifteen minutes later, they were still searching and they were down to the last room. Both sisters thought that Dean’s office might contain clues, but what they dug up was a big fat zero. Then Michelle began going through Dean’s file cabinet and she let out a whoop as she hit pay dirt.

“Look at this,” she said, shoving a file across the desk to Hannah, who’d seated herself behind Dean’s massive work surface to go through the contents of the drawers. “It’s Connor’s employment file.”

“And that’s important?” Hannah asked, opening the file. The first page was a standard personnel questionnaire, the kind every large corporation asks applicants to fill out before their initial interview. “This looks pretty standard to me.”

“Take a closer look. Do you see what Connor listed as his last job, the one right before Dean hired him.”

Hannah glanced a little farther down on the page and found the section Michelle had indicated. “Chauffeur and bodyguard for a family named Dickinson in Iowa. He drove the wife to social events. What’s so unusual about that?”

“Nothing in itself, but take a look at the wife’s name.”

“Emily?” Hannah asked, beginning to frown. “Mrs. Emily Dickinson?”

“Exactly. And that must have made Dean curious, because he hired a private detective firm to check with Connor’s former employers. The answer he got is on the next page.”

Hannah gasped as she turned the page and studied the investigator’s report. Connor was stretching the truth even more than the image in a funhouse mirror, but she had to admire the attempt. There was a kernel of accuracy in what he’d written and it was very clever. He had protected Emily Dickenson and driven her, or at least her books, around to social events. Connor had been a library aide at Iowa State Prison and he’d been in charge of the carts that were wheeled around to the cellblocks.

“Well?” Michelle asked.

“It certainly gives him motive, especially if Dean was going to fire him. And it fits in with what Connor told me about how he couldn’t use Dean as a reference.” Hannah thought back to the tape they’d watched and shook her head. “I didn’t see Connor on the tape, did I?”

“I don’t think so. I know I didn’t.”

“Would it be possible for him to be there and not get on the tape?”

“Absolutely. They didn’t tape everyone.”

“Do you remember if Connor was on the set yesterday?”

“I didn’t see him, but I’ll check with Ross. He always notices who’s there and who’s not.”

Hannah shook her head. “Never mind. You’ve got enough to do. I’ll check with Ross when I see him tonight.”

“Tonight?” Michelle asked with a grin. “What’s tonight?”

“Ross is taking me out to the inn for dinner.”

“All right!” Michelle gave a pleased smile. The smile lasted for several seconds and then it turned into an impish grin. “Do Norman and Mike know you’re going out to dinner with Ross?”

“No, and don’t tell them. I don’t need anybody to cat-sit.”

“Cat-sit?”

“That’s right. Moishe’s perfectly all right alone. I don’t think I can take another late night gathering at my place.”

Michelle gave her a perfectly blank look. “What’s this about cat-sitting and late night gatherings?”

“I’ll tell you on the way back to The Cookie Jar. Are we finished in here?” Hannah waited until Michelle nodded and then she pushed back Dean’s desk chair. “Pick up your tape and the shooting script, and head for the hills. I’ll let the skunk out and join you.”

Less than two minutes later, Hannah came barreling out the back door. She took the steps at a running jump and landed next to Michelle with a thump.

“Did you see the skunk?” Michelle asked.

“I saw it, all right. When I opened the bathroom door, there it was trying to jump back out the window. It was really scared and it’s going to be glad to get back outside.”

“Do you think it’ll find its way out all right?”

“I don’t know why not. I shut all the other doors so the only thing that’s open is the back door.”

“Good. I wonder why it went in there in the first place.”

“Maybe it was attracted by the other skunk.”

Michelle looked confused. “What other skunk?”

“The two-legged one that used the trailer for an office.”

“You look great!” Ross said, stepping inside and giving Hannah an approving hug. “I really like that outfit.”

“Thank you.” Hannah shut her mouth firmly, following the advice her mother had drummed into her head from little on. When a man compliments you, don’t argue with him. Just say a polite thank-you. She didn’t explain that she’d run next door to Beau Monde Fashions in a panic right after Ross had asked her to dinner, and she’d begged Claire to pick out something to make her look irresistible. She failed to mention that the outfit had put a crater in her budget even with her generous business-next-door discount. And she bit back her inclination to repeat Claire’s remark about how the new dress would hide the extra ten pounds around her waist and make the parts of her anatomy that most men noticed look lush and curvy.

“Hi there, Big Guy.” Ross walked over to greet Moishe, who immediately started to purr. Hannah watched as her feline made a fool of himself by rolling over for a belly rub, and she started to grin. The feline vote was in on Ross and he was a definite winner. To date, her four-footed roommate had given his unqualified approval to all three of her suitors. Hannah suspected that Moishe would give the same unqualified approval to any man who called him “Big Guy” and rubbed his belly, including the condo maintenance man.

“I’ll just get my coat, then,” Hannah said, heading for the bedroom. She really hated to break up this feline–human love fest, but her stomach was growling and she’d heard that Sally was featuring boeuf Wellington tonight. Since it was one of her favorite entrées, Hannah was eager to get out to the inn and order just in case Sally ran out.

Hannah took her best dress coat from the closet, the one she wore only when the moon turned azure. The coat was black and not cat-friendly. She’d brushed it before she’d put it away, but as she watched, several orange-and-white hairs floated through the air and settled on one sleeve. Hannah brushed them off with her hand, but she knew full well that it was an exercise in futility. There would be several hundred more by the time she walked through the living room and went out the door.

“I turned on the animal channel for him,” Ross said, as Hannah reentered the living room. “Is that all right?”

Hannah glanced at the set and saw that they were rerunning a documentary she’d watched about penguins. “It’s perfect. Moishe gets upset when birds fly, but it doesn’t bother him at all when they waddle.”

Once she’d tossed Moishe a half-dozen salmon-flavored treats to keep him occupied, Hannah locked the door behind her and walked down the steps with Ross to the garage. She expected to see his rented sedan parked in her other parking spot, and she stopped short as she caught sight of the vehicle that was taking them out to the inn. “That looks just like Dean’s limo,” she said.

“That’s because it is Dean’s limo. We rented it for him as part of his contract. Since we’ve got it for another week, I figured we might as well use it tonight.”

“Do you want me to drive?” Hannah gave a little laugh. “I’ve got some experience as a chauffeur. When the regular driver broke his leg, I had to drive the limo for Lisa and Herb’s wedding.”

Ross gave her a quick hug. “You’re an amazing woman, Hannah Swensen! And I don’t have a doubt in my mind that you could double as a chauffeur. But we already have one, so we get to ride in back.”

“You hired a chauffeur just for tonight?”

“No, we already had one. Connor is driving. We paid his salary as a provision of Dean’s contract. I told Connor he could keep the money and go back home, but he wanted to stay on and work.”

“I see,” Hannah said, and she thought she did. Connor was probably hoping to use Ross as a reference for future employment.

Connor jumped out as they approached and opened the rear door for Hannah. Once she was seated, he went around the car and opened the other door for Ross. “Straight out to the inn?” he asked Ross.

“Could we drive past Dean’s trailer first?” Hannah asked, before Ross could answer.

“Of course. But why?”

“When Michelle went to pick up the shooting script, I went with her. We think there was a skunk in there.” Hannah heard a muffled cough from the front seat and she suspected that Connor was coughing to cover up a laugh. “We left the back door open so it could get out, and I need to make sure someone closed it and locked it.”

“They did,” Connor said from the front seat.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes. I drove Mrs. Lawrence and Mr. Larchmont there this afternoon, right before I took them to the airport. They asked me to come in with them while Mrs. Lawrence picked up some things that she wanted. When we left, I made sure both doors were locked.”

“Did you smell the skunk?” Hannah asked.

“All three of us smelled it. We just didn’t know what it was. Mrs. Lawrence thought maybe the sewer was backed up.”

“Obviously a city girl,” Ross said to Hannah in an undertone.

“And Mr. Larchmont thought that the gas on the stove might be on.”

“Obviously a city boy,” Ross added.

“I checked the stove, and the gas was shut off.”

“Thanks, Connor.” Ross leaned back and put his arm around Hannah’s shoulders. “Since you’re sure everything is locked up tight, let’s go out to the inn and I’ll buy dinner for both of you.”

Hannah pushed aside a little twinge of disappointment as Connor joined them at the table. She’d wanted to talk to Connor anyway and she should be glad that he was sitting right across from her in one of Sally’s private booths. It was silly to resent the fact that she wasn’t alone with Ross, when she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to be alone with Ross.

“So who did it?” Ross asked, turning to her.

“What do you mean? The police are investigating and I wouldn’t dream of interfering with an official…”

“Of course you wouldn’t, but you don’t have to give me the standard party line,” Ross interrupted the speech Hannah had used countless times at The Cookie Jar. “I know you always investigate.”

“I never investigate,” Hannah corrected him. “I leave that sort of thing to the trained professionals. But I can’t really help it if people tell me things, and I put two and two together, can I?”

“Of course you can’t. So let’s get back to my original question. Who do you think killed Dean?”

“I don’t know. Almost everybody who knew him seems to have a motive.”

Connor gave a short laugh. “You’re right. And if you haven’t done so already, you’d better add me to your list of suspects.”

“Why?” Hannah asked, wondering if Connor’s reason would match the one they’d already thought of.

“Because Dean fired me right after I talked to you on Wednesday morning. I told him you were going to talk to Winnie after the cocktail party scene at Granny’s Attic, but that didn’t make any difference to him. He made me turn in my keys. Then he told me to clear out of my room at the inn and go home.”

“But you didn’t leave,” Hannah pointed out.

“That’s right. I was hoping that after you convinced Winnie to let him use the park, he’d hire me back. It’s not like he hasn’t done this sort of thing before. Dean is…” Connor stopped and swallowed hard. “Dean was a little hotheaded. He’d fly off the handle over something minor and apologize for it the next day. I learned to stick around after he fired me, because he always hired me back when he cooled off.”

It was time to play hardball and Hannah was no stranger to that sport. “And Dean had you over the barrel. He knew that without references, it wouldn’t be easy for you to get another job. And he knew about your background, too. That meant he could be as abusive as he wanted and you had to stand there and take it.”

“True,” Connor said, “except for one thing. I already had another job lined up this time around.”

“You did?” Hannah’s tone clearly indicated her surprise. “What job?”

“Mrs. Henderson’s stockbroker.”

Hannah’s jaw dropped open and she attempted to conceal the sudden descent of her chin by making a comment. “I didn’t know Winnie had investments!”