Fudge Cupcake Murder (15 page)

Hannah spared Mike one more glance and then reached out for the pizza. She'd be darned if she'd let him spoil a perfectly good pizza for her!

"Hi, Doc. I didn't think doctors worked on Sundays."

Hannah bit into the pizza and chewed thoughtfully. It must be Doc Knight, getting back to Andrea about some question she'd asked.

"I've got a couple of minutes if you don't mind me chewing and talking at the same time. Hannah and I just ordered a pizza."

Hannah took another bite of her pizza and frowned slightly. It wasn't quite as good as it had been in the past. Of course, the last pizza she'd eaten in Bertanelli's had been with Mike. And they'd been seated in the very same booth where he now sat with Shawna Lee.

"Oh, no!" Andrea groaned, snapping Hannah out of her unhappy thoughts. "You know me, Doc. I've never been anemic in my life. You're kidding, right?"

Hannah's full attention shifted to her sister. Andrea had sounded positively panic stricken.

"All right, I will," Andrea said with a deep sigh, "but I hope you know what you're doing. You have no idea how awful this is going to be for me."

Hannah’s frown was a full-scale glower by the time Andrea said goodbye and turned off the phone. "What did Doc say? You're going to be all right, aren't you?"

"I'll be fine as long as I follow his advice."

"Which is?" Hannah asked, leaning back and waiting.

"I'm anemic and I'm retaining water. Those two things aren't good for the baby. I'm supposed to up my prenatal vitamins to two a day, I have to get at least nine hours sleep, and I can't have any salt in my diet."

"Uh-oh," Hannah groaned, looking at the pizza.

"You take it home with you. I can't have any more." Andrea looked extremely depressed.

"I can understand why you're upset," Hannah said, waving at the waitress and gesturing for a carry-out container.

"No, you can't. I haven't told you the worst part yet. Doc wanted to stick me in the hospital until the baby was born, but he said he wouldn't as long as I agreed to a restriction."

"What restriction?"

"I can't be on my feet for more than four hours a day!"

"Uh-oh," Hannah said with a wince. For a person like Andrea, who was usually on the go for most of her waking hours, Doc's restriction would be a real hardship. "Try to look on the bright side, Andrea. It's only for a couple more weeks."

Andrea opened her mouth. Hannah had the uncomfortable feeling that she was about to get blasted with a mega-dose of her sister's ire when Andrea's cell phone rang again. "Saved by the bell," she murmured, as Andrea answered the phone.

"Hi, honey," Andrea chirped, in a real effort to be cheerful. That told Hannah that her caller was either Tracey or Bill. "Harry Wilcox? Of course I remember him! He's okay, isn't he?"

Hannah listened as she scooped the pizza into the carryout box the waitress had brought, but she didn't learn much of interest by hearing Andrea say yes five times in a row.

"Let's go, Hannah." Andrea dropped her phone in her purse and stood up. "Bill just got a call from Harry Wilcox and he wants us to come back to the house right away."

Hannah met Harry Wilcox, a veteran Winnetka County Deputy, during Bill's first year on the force. Harry had been Bill's mentor and also his first partner. "Harry and his wife are okay, aren't they?"

"They're fine. It's just that Harry heard about Sheriff Grant^ murder and he called Bill to talk about it. Bill says Harry had an idea about why the sheriff might have been killed."

"Okay. I'm ready." Hannah grabbed the takeout box and was about to leave the booth when Andrea grabbed her arm.

"Let's walk past Mike's booth on the way out. When he says hello to us, we can cut him dead."

"Really, Andrea!" Hannah did her best to sound shocked. "Don't you think that's a little childish?"

Andrea thought about it for a moment and then she dipped her head in a nod. "I guess it is a little childish. I don't blame you for not wanting to do it."

"Did I say that?" Hannah countered with a grin. "We'll walk on by and let him see what he's missing."

The two Swensen sisters linked arms and set off in tandem toward Mike's booth. They arranged fixed smiles on their faces and they kept their eyes straight ahead. Hannah sneaked a glance at Mike's booth and her smile slipped alarmingly. He was paying so much attention to Shawna Lee he didn't even notice them.

Hannah marched straight past the booth without a second glance. As she opened the door and ushered her sister out, she vowed that Mike would pay for not even glancing their way. She wasn't sure how, but she'd exact a price one way or another.

Andrea gave an exasperated sigh as Hannah approached her house. "Bill did it again!"

"Did what?"

"He put the trash cans in front of the driveway again. Do you want me to move them so you can drive in?"

"Don't bother. I can park right here behind Bill's car. There's plenty of room."

Once Hannah had parked, Andrea led the way to the front door and fumbled in her purse for her keys. "I hope Harry called at the right time."

"What time is that?"

"Before Bill finished cleaning the attic. If I'm lucky, he didn't get to that big box by the chimney and I won't have to answer a bunch of questions about why I saved all those back issues of fashion magazines."

"Hi, honey!" Bill called out as they walked into the house. "Bring Hannah back here to the kitchen. I made coffee for her."

Hannah followed Andrea into the kitchen and they sat down at the kitchen table. Once Hannah cupped her hands around the mug of coffee that Bill had brewed, and inhaled the fragrance, she smiled. "This is real coffee!"

"It's French roast. I ground the beans myself," Bill told her, and then he turned to Andrea. "Doc Knight called here and I gave him your cell phone number. There's nothing wrong, is there?"

Andrea sighed. "Nothing that a little rest won't cure. I'm anemic and I'm retaining water."

"I was afraid it would be something like that. It's a good thing I'm home, because now I can take care of you. Doc gave you instructions, didn't he?"

"Yes, he did." Andrea rolled her eyes behind Bill's back, and Hannah did all she could do to not laugh. "We can talk about that later. Tell us what Harry had to say. Hannah's got to get home soon."

"I'll tell you just as soon as you get on the couch and put your feet up. Your ankles are swelling again. Come on, Hannah. Bring your coffee and come into the living room."

Once Andrea was settled on the couch, Bill told them the gist of his conversation with Harry. "He said Sheriff Grant gave him a choice between early retirement with full benefits or a demotion in rank. It was all because of a case he was working."

"What case was that?" Andrea wanted to know.

"The Dew Drop Inn case."

"Oh, that!" Andrea exclaimed and sat up a little straighten "Do you remember it, Hannah?"

"No. But I know the building that Sean and Ron turned into The Quick Stop used to be the Dew Drop Inn."

"You must have been away at college at the time," Andrea said. "It was in all the papers. Sheriff Grant closed it down in a big raid for illegal gambling and selling liquor after hours."

"It happened right before the last election," Bill explained. "It was all over the papers and it's probably the reason Sheriff Grant won by a landslide."

"That's what everybody said at the time," Andrea recalled. "But I don't remember reading anything about Harry Wilcox in any of the papers."

"That's because his name wasn't there. Sheriff Grant took over the case on the day of the raid and claimed credit for everything Harry did. And when Harry complained, Sheriff Grant accused him of insubordination and forced him into early retirement."

Andrea's mouth dropped open. "That's horrible! I just can't believe Sheriff Grant had the gall to take Harry's case right out from under his nose like that!"

"Well, he did. And Harry said that if we dug back into the records, we might find a pattern. He figured that if Sheriff Grant stole his case, he might have stolen other cases to win the other elections."

"Makes sense. And it's motive," Hannah said, pulling out her notebook and writing it down.

Andrea frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"

"Harry was pretty mad about being taken off the Dew Drop Inn case, wasn't he, Bill?"

"He sure was! It was the biggest case of his career and Sheriff Grant stole all the glory. But he told me that there was nothing he could do about it. He needed that retirement money and Sheriff Grant didn't give him any options."

"The biggest case of his career," Hannah murmured. "That's got to hurt when it happens. Even now when it's years later, it still has to rankle. I can see where someone might want to even the score."

"Harry?" Bill sounded shocked. "That's crazy, Hannah. There's no way Harry flew back here from Arizona and killed Sheriff Grant!"

Hannah took another sip of her coffee. It really was very good. "I didn't mean Harry… necessarily. What if the lead man on one of those other cases decided to put a permanent stop to Sheriff Grant's stolen glory?"

"You mean kill Sheriff Grant before he could do it again?" Andrea asked, looking a little sick.

"That's right. Who would know about all those old cases?"

Bill shrugged. "They'd be in the old files, but it would take months to dig through them all."

"We don't have to do that," Andrea said, looking very pleased with herself.

"We don't?" Hannah asked.

"Of course not. We'll just get it from the horse's mouth."

"But Sheriff Grant's dead," Hannah pointed out.

"I meant the other horse, Secretariat," Andrea said. When they just stared at her, she started to laugh. "I made a joke! Barbara Donnelly's been Sheriff Grant's secretary for years and she knows everything that goes on at the station. That's why I said Secretariat, get it?"

"Brilliant," Hannah said with a grin. Andrea's joke was good considering that it came from a hugely pregnant wife whose husband was suspected of murder. "Barbara should be able to tell us about past elections, but she might not know what Sheriff Grant was intending for this year. We have to find out if any deputy was working on a big case, one that Sheriff Grant could have planned to use to win the race against Bill."

Bill sighed so deeply it came out as a groan. "This suspension is just about killing me! If I could just go to the station and talk to the other guys, I could find out in two seconds flat. But that's not allowed."

"It's okay, honey," Andrea spoke softly, reacting to the tone of frustration in her husband's voice. "You're doing a lot to help."

"Maybe. I just wish I could do more. At least I'm here to make sure you get your proper rest and nutrition. And I'm getting some things done around the house. That reminds me… I threw out a whole box of old fashion magazines I found in the attic. You must have stuck them up there and forgotten about them. That's one job that's done."

"You finished cleaning out the attic?" Andrea's voice shook slightly and Hannah wondered what else her sister had squirreled away up there.

"I sure did. It wasn't hard once I carried down all those bags of old clothes."

Andrea gasped. "But I was saving those for Tracey to play dress up!"

"She never could have used that many. There must have been dozens of them. I called my dad and he came to get them. Mom's going to use them for quilts."

Andrea tipped her head up and looked toward the ceiling, and Hannah suspected she was asking for divine intervention to keep her from killing Bill. Perhaps this would be a good time to leave. "I'd better be going," Hannah said, getting to her feet. "I've got to get up early tomorrow."

"Me, too." Bill also rose to his feet. "I'm going to repaint this room tomorrow."

"Oh?" Hannah asked, since Andrea seemed incapable of speech.

"Dad promised to run down to the hardware store to pick up the paint for me. I thought I'd get a really bright yellow to lighten the place up a little. Enamel would be good. That way we can just wash the walls when they get dirty."

Hannah glanced at Andrea, who still looked as if she was contemplating homicide with husbandly intent, and took charge. "You can't paint this week."

"Why not?"

"The KCOW weatherman said it might rain and everyone knows that enamel never dries completely if you use it when the humidity's high."

"Really?" Bill frowned slightly. "I never heard that."

"Well, it's true. If you don't believe me, just come down to The Cookie Jar and touch the windowsill in my kitchen. I painted it right before a thunderstorm two years ago and it still feels tacky."

Andrea shot Hannah a grateful glance and then she turned to Bill. "Will you get your jacket and walk Hannah out to her truck? With a killer on the loose, I don't think she should take any chances."

The moment Bill had left to get his jacket, Andrea motioned Hannah closer. "Thanks, Hannah. That bit with the enamel was brilliant."

"Thanks. It was also true."

"Whatever. All I know is we've got to clear Bill, and fast. Being home with my feet up is bad enough, but with Bill here doing pet projects around the house and babying me, it's murder."

Hannah knew what she had to do and she took Andrea's warning seriously. It might not be murder yet, but if Bill spent many more hours as a househusband, it would be.

Hannah spent a few more moments talking to Bill and then she climbed into her truck. She started the engine, flicked on the lights, and noticed something she hadn't seen when she drove up.

"Bill?" Hannah called out, after she'd lowered her window.

"Yeah, Hannah."

"When did you break your taillight?"

"Oh, that," Bill said, shrugging it off as inconsequential. "It must have happened on Monday night. It was broken Tuesday morning when I went to work. I had to drive through the vehicle checkpoint at the station and they wrote me a repair ticket."

Hannah was surprised. "They have a vehicle checkpoint at the sheriff's station?"

"Sure. We're training civilian volunteers to run all the vehicle checkpoints. It'll free sworn officers up for other duty. For practice, we set up a checkpoint at the station and the volunteers stop all cars coming and going from the parking lot."