Cherry Cheesecake Murder (36 page)

“So Burke knows about guns?” The wheels in Hannah’s mind were spinning.

“I guess. Lisa said he won a couple of trophies for shooting, and he got a job as a spokesman for an outdoor outfitter. Maybe he’ll have to go back to the commercials now that he didn’t get that part.”

“What part?” Michelle asked, and Hannah could tell she hadn’t known Burke was up for another part after Crisis in Cherrywood.

“This part.” Andrea pulled a folded copy of Variety from her purse and read a section out loud. “Burke Anson of Surf ’n Turf fame may have a BEEF with Halsey Productions because something’s definitely FISHY.” Isn’t that cute? They’re using food terms because he was in that restaurant commercial.”

“Cute,” Hannah said, not believing it for a minute. “Go on.”

“Slated for the lead in Remember Last Tuesday, Anson was given the CHOP in favor of Derek Pullman, who decided to CLAM up and refused to give us a comment. When queried about the last-minute change, a spokesman for Halsey said that Anson had earned the reputation for being difficult on his current project, Crisis in Cherrywood.”

“Remember Last Tuesday,” Hannah breathed. “It’s a movie title!”

Michelle just shook her head. “No wonder I couldn’t find anyone who knew what happened last Tuesday! So that’s what Amber overheard Dean and Burke arguing about!”

“If that isn’t a motive, I don’t know what is,” Hannah pointed out. “Burke must have been convinced that Dean was the one who said he was difficult. What date is that paper?”

Andrea looked down beneath the green-and-black banner. “It’s Wednesday. They mail it from L.A. and I just got it today.”

“Burke wouldn’t have to wait to find out from Variety,” Michelle pointed out. His agent would have called him right away. Burke could have taken the call and then rushed right off to confront Dean in his office. I’m sure he thought Dean wrecked his career by tagging him with the difficult label. That’s the kiss of death, you know.”

“But Amber said Dean denied everything,” Andrea argued. “She heard Dean tell Burke that he didn’t do it.”

Hannah gave a short laugh. “It’s pretty obvious Burke didn’t believe him. He must have thought Dean was getting even for that awful interview he gave on KCOW television.”

“But didn’t Dean say he wasn’t mad about that? That he thought what Burke said on television was funny?” Andrea asked.

“He said it, but I was there and I didn’t believe him for a second. I don’t think anybody did. It was pretty clear that Dean was only pretending to be amused to save face.”

“Do you think Dean told the producers of Remember Last Tuesday that Burke was difficult to work with?” Andrea wanted to know.

Michelle shrugged. “It could have happened that way. Most of the producers know each other and they compare notes. It doesn’t really matter whether Dean did it or not, as long as Burke was convinced he did.”

“That’s why Burke was so lousy in the scene,” Hannah felt a current of excitement as the light dawned. “He’s a great actor. We all know that. And a great actor can play a lousy actor.”

Andrea stared at Hannah for a moment. “You’re right. It’s why he said his back hurt and he couldn’t seem to get the motivation right. He wanted Dean to demonstrate the suicide and pull the trigger on the real revolver.”

“He’s a stone cold killer,” Hannah said, shivering slightly. “He stood there watching, only a few feet away, and he knew exactly what was going to happen.”

“So shall we tell Mike?” Michelle asked.

“Not yet. It’s all supposition at this point. We don’t have any proof.” Hannah turned to Andrea. “Can you locate Sally and ask her if Burke got any calls in his room on Wednesday morning? I’m sure she’s around here someplace.”

“I’m on it,” Andrea said, rushing off.

“And can you think of an excuse to find out who Burke’s agent is?” Hannah asked Michelle. “We can always call and ask when Burke was notified that someone else got the part.”

“No problem. Somebody’s bound to know. What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to find Mother and get the keys to Granny’s Attic. We know that Burke didn’t have that prop gun on him when he left the building, so it’s just got to be hidden there somewhere.”

Hannah searched in vain for her mother. She’d seen her only minutes ago, but Delores seemed to have vanished. She even checked the ladies’ room, but the only person there was Winnie Henderson, who was standing in front of the mirror brushing her hair.

“Hi, Winnie,” Hannah said. “I’m glad you came to the party.”

“Connor brought me. He said the caterers cost more than one of my prize heifers and I owed it to my taste buds to come and eat.”

Hannah’s stomach growled. With all this excitement she’d forgotten to eat. “Sounds like a good idea to me. Have you seen Mother?”

“I saw her about ten minutes ago. She was just leaving.”

“Leaving?” Hannah glanced at her watch. “But it’s only eight-thirty.”

“Oh, she’s coming back. She just ran down to Granny’s Attic to make sure they were careful when they loaded the sewing machine on the truck.”

“What sewing machine?”

“The one they had on the living room set. You must have seen it. It was all the way in the corner, right next to the desk where you-know-what happened.”

Hannah remembered the sewing machine. The top had been down, with the sewing head tucked inside, and it had been covered with a large crocheted doily.

“Your mother was pleased as punch to sell it, ’specially because it went for a fortune.”

“It did?” Hannah was puzzled. “I thought that model was mass-produced by Sears, or one of the other big mail-order chains in the fifties.”

“You’re right, but that young actor from the film paid close to a thousand dollars for it. He’s having it shipped back to California.”

Now Hannah was even more puzzled. Why would Burke pay that much for a common sewing machine? Then her mind kicked into high gear and the truth dawned. Burke would pay through the teeth if he’d hidden something inside that perfectly ordinary sewing machine, something like the prop gun!

But why hadn’t the deputies found the gun when they’d searched Granny’s Attic? Hannah considered that for a moment and came up with a possible explanation. The sewing machine had looked exactly like a table with a false front and two small drawers on either side. What if the deputies had searched the drawers but hadn’t realized that the sewing head swiveled up from a hollow below, where there would be plenty of room to hide a revolver?

“Holy cow!” Hannah gasped, taking Daisy, Buttercup, and Petunia’s breed in vain. She knew where Burke had hidden the prop gun and she had to get it before it headed off on a moving van for California!

A light, lazy snow was falling as Hannah drove to Granny’s Attic. There weren’t quite enough snowflakes to keep her windshield wipers from squeaking against the glass, but the snowfall was a bit too much not to use them. She was about to turn into the alley when she saw the taillights of a semi idling in back of Granny’s Attic. Rather than drive in behind it, Hannah went around the block and entered the alley from the other way, effectively blocking the semi. Expecting to hear an angry shout from the driver when she got out of her much smaller truck, Hannah heard nothing but the powerful motor idling. She’d gotten here just in time. The driver must be inside with Delores, getting ready to load Burke’s sewing machine.

Hannah raced for the back door, almost slipping on the blacktop in her dress shoes. She hadn’t wanted to take the time to get her boots and it was a good thing she hadn’t or she might not have caught the semi. “Mother!” she called out as she opened the back door and hurried past the section her mother called “Trash or Treasures,” the unsorted items that might or might not be valuable.

“In here, dear,” Delores sounded surprised. “We’re just filling out some paperwork for a shipment.”

“Stop!”

“What was that, dear?” Delores sounded even more surprised and she looked surprised, too, as Hannah burst into the large main room of Granny’s Attic, the room that was still decorated as a living room set.

“I need to look at that sewing machine, Mother!”

“You mean the one that Burke bought?”

“That’s right. Where is it?”

“Over there,” Delores pointed to a large crate sitting on a dolly near the door. “You can’t look at it now, dear. It’s all crated up.”

Hannah turned to the driver. Do you have a crowbar?”

“Got one in the truck.”

“I’ll need to use it. I have to uncrate that sewing machine and inspect it. It may contain evidence in a murder investigation.”

The driver, a large man who looked like he could handle a sledgehammer as well as a crowbar, stepped back a pace. “No way I want to have anything to do with a murder!”

“Then help me uncrate that sewing machine and you can go.”

“But how about the guy on the other end? He’s not gonna be happy when that sewing machine he bought doesn’t get delivered.”

“Oh, I don’t think he’ll mind,” Hannah said. “If I’m right about what’s inside that crate, he won’t be there to receive it anyway.”

“Ready?” Hannah said, lifting the lid the driver had loosened with his crowbar before he’d left and propping it up against the nearest wall. “Did you see them crate it, Mother?”

“They did it the day Burke bought it.”

“When was that?”

“Thursday afternoon. He came in with two carpenters from the crew to crate it for him.”

“It looks like it’s wrapped in furniture pads and then taped,” Hannah said using the scissors her mother handed her to cut the tape.

“It’s also secured on the inside. I watched Burke do it. He wrapped a strap around the top so it wouldn’t open or twist on the hinges, and he taped the drawers so they couldn’t bang open and closed during transit.”

“And he did it himself,” Hannah noted, unwrapping the pad and letting it fall to the bottom of the crate.

“Yes. I did think that was a little unusual, but then he told me why.”

“What did he tell you?”

“He said he knew he had to have that sewing machine the moment he set eyes on it. His mother died when he was only ten, you know, and she had one just like it. Every year, before school started, they used to go shopping for material so she could sew new shirts for him. He still has several of them. They’re keepsakes. And now he has a replica of the sewing machine, too.”

“Right,” Hannah said, not believing the story of the dead mother and the shirts for an instant. “So that’s why he offered you so much money for it?”

“That’s what he said. I pointed out that old Sears machines weren’t worth even half of what he offered, but he said he didn’t care, that he wanted that particular model. He said he was buying it in honor of his mother and he’d think of her every time he saw it. And he was also buying it because it was on the set and he wanted a memento of his very first movie.”

“Oh, brother!” Hannah breathed, wondering how her mother could have swallowed such a line. But then she reminded herself that Burke was a superlative actor and if he’d told her the same story, she probably would have fallen for it, too. It was entirely possible that Burke’s mother had owned a Sears sewing machine. Hundreds of thousands of women had. And it was also possible that Burke remembered that you could lift the lid and drop something inside to hide it from view. There was plenty of room around the sewing head to conceal an object the size of a revolver.

“So what did you find?” Delores asked.

“Nothing yet.” Hannah couldn’t pull out the drawers. The crate was built too snugly around the machine. But she didn’t worry about that because the deputies probably checked those. “I’m going to cut the strap and lift up the lid. If I’m right, that’s where Burke hid the prop gun after he put the real revolver in its place.”

“Wait,” Delores advised, opening a drawer and pulling out a pair of gloves. “Put these on. You don’t want to destroy any fingerprints.”

“Good thinking, Mother,” Hannah said, “but fingerprints don’t prove anything in this case. Everyone on the set saw Burke practice taking the prop gun out of the drawer right before the first take. He got his fingerprints on it then. And since he was using the real gun when he convinced Dean that he was having trouble doing the scene, his fingerprints are on that, too.”

“So he was only pretending he’d lost his motivation for the scene?” Delores asked.

“That’s my theory. And if I find the prop gun stuck in this sewing machine, I can prove it.”

Hannah held her breath as she cut the strap and lifted the lid. She felt around in the largest space between the bottom of the sewing machine head and the sewing platform and she began to smile.

“You found it?” Delores asked, interpreting her daughter’s smile to mean success.

“Oh, yes. Now all I have to do is…” Hannah stopped speaking and worked to extricate the gun. “Yes. Here it is!”

“So Burke just said he loved my sewing machine because he needed it to get rid of the evidence?”

“I’m afraid so, but at least it didn’t work. Let’s get back to the party and tell Mike what happened. He can arrest Burke.”

Delores looked worried. “I just hope Mike can catch him in time.”

“What do you mean?”

“When Burke danced with me earlier, he asked me to supervise the loading of the crate because he was leaving tonight. He said he had to drive back out to the inn, pack up his things, and catch a midnight flight out of Minneapolis.”

“A flight to where?”

“Somewhere in Europe. He told me he was taking a little vacation now that the movie was over. That’s why he made arrangements with the moving company to store the sewing machine until he got back.”

Hannah glanced at her watch. If Burke was taking an international flight, he had to arrive at the airport at least two hours in advance. That meant he had to leave the inn less than thirty minutes from now to make it on time.

“I need your help, Mother,” Hannah said, shrugging into her coat and pulling on her gloves. “Call the sheriff’s station, tell them it’s an emergency, and have them patch you through to Mike’s cell phone. Tell him Burke killed Dean and I found the prop gun to prove it.”