Fudge Cupcake Murder (16 page)

Hannah nodded, waiting for Bill to catch on. She wasn't disappointed.

"Hold on a second!" Bill sounded very excited. "The checkpoint was operating on Monday night when I left the sheriff's station. The taillight wasn't broken then. That means it happened after six on Monday night, because they ticketed me at seven the next morning."

"That's right," Hannah said, smiling like a proud parent. Bill was getting the hang of logical thinking.

"Andrea told me about the math you did on the telemarketing calls. If I can find the person who hit my car and it happened at the right time, it could be my alibi!"

"You're right. It could be." Hannah got out of her truck to examine the taillight. "Where was your car parked on Monday night?"

"Really close to where it is right now. I left room for one car to park behind me without blocking the driveway."

"You were expecting company?"

"Not really, but Andrea was going out with Tracey and I thought maybe I could talk Dad into coming over to watch the game with me."

"I wish that had happened," Hannah said. If Bill's dad had been with him, they wouldn't be in this fix.

"Me, too. But Mom invited the neighbors for dinner and he had to stay home."

One of the living room windows opened and Andrea stuck her head out. "Is something wrong?"

"No, something may be right," Hannah said, exchanging a smile with Bill. "Someone hit Bill's car on Monday night. If we can find out when it happened and who did it, he might have his alibi."

"What color car hit Bill's car? Can you tell?"

Hannah bent over to look at the lens of the taillight. It was cracked and hanging by the edge, but there was a smear of dark yellow paint on the red gel. "There's some paint here. It's kind of a gold color but not sparkly."

"I saw that car on Monday night," Andrea hollered out. "Come back inside and I'll tell you about it. I'm freezing with the window open."

Hannah grinned as Andrea shut the window with a bang.

It was a still night and it wasn't that cold, but it was clear Andrea wanted them to come to her so that she could be part of the team.

It only took a few moments for Andrea to give her information. Just as Hannah had thought, the little that Andrea knew could have been conveyed through the open window, but her sister enjoyed being in on the action. She told them that when she'd come home from the mall with Tracey, the cars on the street were bumper to bumper and she'd had to squeeze past a Harvest Gold Mercedes to get into their driveway.

"You're sure it was Harvest Gold?" Bill asked.

"I'm sure. I remember thinking that if I bought a brand new Mercedes, I wouldn't want it to be the same color as an old refrigerator."

Hannah laughed. Her sister had the color pegged. In addition to white, there had been three colors for kitchen appliances in the late sixties and early seventies; harvest gold, avocado, and bronze. The thought of any one of those shades on a new car was enough to give a sane person pause. "So who owns this Mercedes? Do you have any idea?"

"No, but Lorna Kusak should know. She was giving a Firelight Candle party and that's why there were so many cars on our street. I'm really sorry I was busy and I couldn't go. Firelight has a new scent, raspberry frappe, and I'd like a candle for the bathroom. It would exactly match the towels, and…"

"Are you absolutely sure the Mercedes was new?" Hannah interrupted her sister in the middle of what would undoubtedly be a discussion of bathroom decor.

"I'm positive it was new. It still had those paper dealer plates. And you know what that means."

Bill started to grin. "I know. Wait here, honey. Hannah and I will run over to Lorna's and find out."

"Right," Hannah followed Bill to the door. When someone in a town the size of Lake Eden got a new car, it entitled the owner to bragging rights. Lorna was bound to know who owned it. "We'll come back and tell you, I promise. And if Lorna has any of those raspberry frappe candles left, I'll buy one for you."

Five minutes later, Bill was on the phone with Betty Jackson. He put his call on speakerphone so that Andrea and Hannah could hear. Hannah was sipping a reheated cup of coffee while Andrea sniffed her new candle.

"I'm sorry I'm calling so late, Betty, but it's really important."

"That's okay, Bill." Betty's voice was warm and friendly. "I've got the day off tomorrow and I'm staying up late to channel surf. My new microwave dish is unbelievable, over four hundred channels and I'm trying them all out."

"Sports?" Bill asked, and he looked envious.

"Twenty-five channels devoted to every sport known to man." Betty gave a little laugh. "They even have curling from the rink in Bemidgi. Can you imagine?"

"Wow!" Bill gave an impressed sigh and Andrea nudged him with her foot. He looked startled for a moment and then remembered why he'd called Betty in the first place.

"Did you hear about my new promotion?" Betty asked, before Bill could open the subject of his car and hers. "Now I'm an executive assistant to Max's cousin at the dairy. Cozy Cow is doing so well, I just hired two new secretaries to fill my old job. But I'm sure that's not what you called about. You probably want my insurance information. I forgot to write it on the note I left under your windshield wiper when I bumped into your car on Monday night."

Hannah high-fived her sister and Andrea high-fived back, but they weren't out of the woods yet. They sat back and waited for Bill to obtain the critical information that would clear him.

"Your note must have blown away, Betty. There was nothing under my windshield wiper."

"Really? Then how did you know to call…" Betty paused and gave an embarrassed little laugh. "Never mind. You're a detective, after all. Of course you found out it was me. I'm really mortified about it, Bill. I still can't believe I misjudged the distance. It's just that the Mercedes is a lot bigger than my old VW."

"That's okay, Betty. I understand."

"Thank goodness for that!" Betty sounded very relieved. "Hold on a second and I'll get you my insurance information so you can file a claim."

"There's no need for that," Bill answered quickly, before Betty could leave the line.

"But I have good insurance. I know they'll take care of everything. All you have to do is file a claim and they'll replace…”

"I don't need it, Betty," Bill interrupted her. "I'll just pick up another taillight at Ted Koester's junk yard and put it in myself."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. If I file a claim, it could raise your insurance rates and it's just not necessary."

"Okay, Bill. I'm sure you know best. I'll pay for the taillight. Just let me know how much it is."

"I'll do that. Do you remember what time you hit my car, Betty? It could be really important."

"I remember," Betty said, and she sounded very confident. "It was ten after nine. I left Lorna's house at five after, because I wanted to get home in time to feed my cats, put in a load of laundry, and watch the ten o'clock news."

"And you're sure about the time?"

"I'm positive. I looked at my watch when I climbed into the car. Are you sure you don't want to file an insurance claim, Bill? I'm clearly in the wrong here."

"No need, Betty. And the next time you see me, remind me to give you a big hug."

"For hitting your car?" Betty sounded confused.

"Not exactly. It's when you hit my car that counts. That was the luckiest accident I ever had."

There was a moment of silence and when she spoke again, Betty sounded even more puzzled. "Okay. If you say so."

"Do you mind if Mike Kingston calls you tonight to verify what you told me?"

"No…" Betty sounded a bit dubious. "You're not going to… uh… charge me with anything, are you?"

"No way I'd do that. I just need you to tell him what time you hit my car, so he knows it was parked outside my house at the time."

"Oh. Well, sure. I can do that." Betty sounded like she wanted to ask more questions, but she didn't. "I'm going to watch a movie in twenty minutes. Could you have him call before then?"

Bill agreed, and right after he'd disconnected the call, he punched in Mike's cell phone number. Once Mike had Betty's number and had promised to call right away, Bill hung up the phone and hugged both Andrea and Hannah. "Thanks for all your help. It's going to be good to get back to work again!"

"I'm sure it will," Andrea said, and Hannah noticed that her sister looked absolutely delighted that Bill's suspension was about to be over.

"Mike's going to buy us breakfast to celebrate," Bill announced, turning to Hannah. "I'm going in at six to go over what he's done on the case so far, and we'll meet you at The Corner Tavern at seven-thirty."

Andrea's face lit up with a smile. "Oh, good! I love their pancakes."

"Not you, honey," Bill told her. "You have to stay here with your feet up. Hannah will bring you takeout, right Hannah?"

Hannah said she would, knowing that her sister was disappointed. But Bill would be working and at least Andrea wouldn't have to watch him do any more househusband chores. Perhaps it was time to remind Andrea of her blessings. "Look on the bright side, Andrea. Now that Bill's going back to-work, you can sleep in."

"Right," Andrea said, and she looked much more cheerful. "I'll set the alarm for eight-thirty, Hannah. Then I'll be up when you bring me breakfast. Can I give you my order now?"

"Sure." Hannah grabbed her notebook and flipped it to a blank page.

"I'll have pancakes, and blueberry syrup, and a couple of eggs over easy, and bacon and…”

"No salt," Hannah interrupted her.

"Right. No bacon then. I'll have home fries, whole wheat toast with no butter and lots of those little packets of jelly, and something else on the side instead of meat, like tomatoes sprinkled with sugar."

Hannah made a face. Both Andrea and Michelle had adopted Delores's habit of sprinkling tomato slices with sugar. Hannah, on the other hand, took after their father and liked hers sprinkled with salt.

"Okay. What to drink?"

"A chocolate shake. There's no salt in that."

"That's really strange," Bill said, frowning slightly.

"You mean a chocolate shake for breakfast?"

"Huh?" Bill looked totally confused and Hannah knew he hadn't been listening while Andrea gave her breakfast order.

"What's strange, Bill?" Hannah asked, reaching for her jacket. It was already past eleven and if she didn't head for home soon, there would be little point in going to bed.

"There was music playing when Mike answered his cell phone and I know his stereo's broken."

Hannah gave Andrea a look and Andrea gave it right back to her. After seeing Mike at Bertanelli's with Shawna Lee, it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that Mike might have gone home with her. And if he had, that meant he hadn't been exactly pining away for the eldest Swensen sister while he'd been on her persona non grata list.

Monday morning came earlier than Hannah anticipated. It arrived at four-thirty in the morning when she rolled over on what felt like small boulders in her bed and discovered the Moishe had brought her the contents of his food bowl during the night.

"All right, I give up," Hannah sighed, sitting up to switch on the lamp by her bed and jam her feet into her slippers. Moishe wanted his regular food back. That much was clear. And perhaps he'd done her a favor by waking her up this early. If she could manage to get ambulatory and awake enough to drive by five, she could get to work early and finish the baking before she left to have breakfast with Mike and Bill.

Hannah fed Moishe his regular fare and downed a second cup of the strong coffee her grandmother had called Swedish Plasma, then walked back to the bedroom to excavate her sheets from beneath the senior cat food rubble. Rather than try to save the nuggets, Hannah opened the bedroom window, brought the corners of the sheet together to make a bundle, and shook it out as an offering to passing cats that were not as discriminating as Moishe.

"What would you like, Hannah?" Mike said, smiling at her across the table.

An explanation of what's going on with you and Shawna Lee, Hannah thought, but she said, "Pancakes, maple syrup, and eggs sunny side up."

"Coffee?" the waitress asked, favoring Hannah with a smile.

"Yes, please. And lots of it. I didn't get much sleep last night."

"Me, neither," Mike said, and Hannah clamped her lips shut. No way she was going to ask why!

"I slept like a baby," Bill volunteered. "I think it was because the pressure was off. It was awful not being able to prove I didn't do it."

"Just be glad you're not in France." Mike reached out to pour a cup of coffee for Hannah from the carafe. "Their system is guilty until proven innocent, not the other way around like us."

Hannah clamped her lips shut. It seemed to her that the Winnetka County Sheriff's Department had adopted the French system. Bill had been suspended until he could prove his innocence.

Twenty minutes later, their food had been served and they'd done a good job of cleaning their plates. Bill went up to the counter to order Andrea's takeout breakfast while Mike stayed behind in the booth with Hannah.

Mike gave her a big smile and reached out to touch her hand. "I've really missed you the past couple of days, Hannah."

It's been seven days, and that's more than a couple, Hannah thought, keeping her expression as neutral as possible. She could have argued with the verb in Mike's sentiment as well. How could sharing a booth at Bertanelli's with Shawna Lee Quinn possibly be construed as missing her?

"I sure could have used your help last night," Mike went on.

"Oh, really?" Hannah's eyebrows shot up. From where she'd been sitting it hadn't looked as if Mike had needed help from anyone! "With what?"

"Remember the secretary I introduced you to the last time you came out to the station?"

Hannah looked thoughtful, pretending to make an effort to remember. "You mean the new one? Sharon Lee, or something like that?"

"Shawna Lee. She was with the Minneapolis Police Department. I used to work with her."