Fudge Cupcake Murder (18 page)

"Between seven and nine."

Lisa shook her head. "Impossible. You can only get four channels without cable and none of them were showing movies. Believe me, I know. I flipped through before I went out to the video store for Dad."

"So… it must have been a tape," Hannah said, frowning slightly. "But Kate wouldn't have put on a tape and then left the house."

"Of course not. But she has a teenage son, doesn't she?"

"Richie. Kate told Mike that he was out that night with friends."

"Wrong. Richie was in that night with friends. And he probably didn't tell his parents. They watched a tape, the movie that Nettie heard, and then they cleared out before Kate and Jerry got home."

"And they lied about it because they probably drank some beer while they were watching the movie?"

"It's good to know you're not that old." Lisa gave Hannah a pat on the back. "If it wasn't beer, it was probably a girl. And in that case, they might not have been all that interested in the movie."

"Right. So I should talk to Richie?"

"Sure. Unless you want someone younger and more in touch with the teenage mentality to do that research for you."

Hannah grinned. "And that would be you?"

"It would be me. And it just so happens that one of the girls who was here this morning left her class notebook. I'll call the school to tell them it's here and when she comes to pick it up, I'll ask her which girl is dating Richie Maschler. And then I'll talk to his girlfriend and find out what really happened on Monday night."

Hannah opened the street door at the side of the Red Owl Grocery and climbed the long stairway leading up to the second floor. The stairs had been newly carpeted and Hannah admired the way that Danielle had decorated the walls with dance diagrams, each set of footprints in a different color.

As she climbed, Hannah heard faint strains of music that became louder with each step she took. And when she opened the heavy door at the top of the stairs, the music rolled out to greet her, something upbeat and jazzy that she didn't recognize.

Hannah stood there staring for a moment. Danielle's dance studio was impressive. With the exception of a wall that sectioned off rooms at the rear and an area of red deep pile carpeting in front of it that contained padded theater seats, the rest of the space gleamed with a highly polished wooden floor and mirrored walls. The only wall that wasn't mirrored was the one facing the street and it contained the high narrow windows that Danielle had loved when Andrea first showed her the loft.

Looking up, Hannah noticed tracks on the ceiling. She was puzzled for a moment. Then she spotted the red velvet curtains that were stored in alcoves in the walls and realized that the curtains could be pulled to cordon off a large area for the stage.

"Clever," Hannah murmured, looking back up at the tracks again. She'd seen tracks like that on the ceilings of hospital rooms so that an individual patient in a double or triple room could have privacy.

Danielle rushed over the moment she noticed Hannah standing by the door. "How wonderful to see you, Hannah! Tracey's doing very well in her dance class."

"That's good to hear," Hannah said, giving her a warm smile. Danielle looked really good. The anxious, scared-rabbit expression she'd worn in the past had gone the way of the theatrical makeup she'd been forced to use to cover up the signs of her husband's abuse. "How's business, Danielle?"

"I'm doing better than I ever thought I would. And to think that Boyd pooh-poohed the idea of my opening a dance studio! He said it would never go in a town the size of Lake Eden."

"Looks like Boyd was wrong," Hannah said, adding an addendum to that sentence in her mind, about a lot of things!

"All my classes are filled and I'm looking for an assistant teacher in the evenings so I can offer more sessions. Do you know anyone?"

Hannah was sorely tempted to suggest Shawna Lee Quinn. If she worked two jobs, she'd be too busy to go out with Mike. But because Danielle was a friend and friends didn't try to pull the wool over each other's eyes, Hannah ditched that idea. "I'll call you if I think of anyone," she said.

"Great. I'd really like to start another ballroom dancing class. I have enough names on the waiting list."

Hannah was surprised. "I wouldn't think the kids would be interested in ballroom dancing."

"Quite a few of them are, but I was talking about my seniors class. I just love working with them, Hannah. Most of them know the basics already. It's just a matter of brushing up and getting back in practice. And the cheerleaders are really a lot of fun. They're doing a dance routine at the Halloween party and Mr. Purvis lets them out of study hall to practice. You'll stay and watch, won't you?"

"I’d planned on it. I'm meeting Barbara Donnelly. I need to talk to her."

"Of course you do. Your mother mentioned that you were investigating and secretaries always know a lot about their bosses. Barbara's in the dressing room helping the girls with their hair, but that's her coat and purse on that seat at the end of the first row. You can sit next to her."

Once Danielle rushed off to see if her cheerleaders were ready to perform, Hannah took the seat next to Barbara's. It was padded in all the right places and it cradled her like a pillow. It was so comfortable that Hannah almost nodded off. Between getting home late last night and rolling over on the contents of Moishe's food bowl early this morning, she'd had a grand total of four hours sleep. That wasn't enough. All she had to do was look into the mirror at the dark circles under her eyes to know that.

The music that Danielle played over the loudspeakers was pleasant. Hannah leaned against the cushioned seatback and closed her eyes to appreciate it better. It would be fun to dance to this music, and she had two men to dance with her. Norman had even taken dance lessons and he'd improved so much, she no longer had the desire to lead. And Mike… well… dancing with Mike was like… she really shouldn't think of that now.

There was a warm hand on her arm and Hannah smiled. Here was Mike now, asking her to dance. He was a bit late. The music had been playing for quite some time now, but perhaps he'd been busy. He was patting her arm now, saying her name, and she did her best to open her eyes. She'd just nodded off a bit sitting here and listening to the music while he'd been… been…

"Hannah? Wake up."

No, it wasn't Mike. It was a woman's voice. Her college roommate? No, college was over so that couldn't be right.

"Hannah? Come on, Hannah."

"Huh?" Hannah's eyes popped open and she sat up with a start. She looked over at Barbara Donnelly and blinked. What was Barbara doing in her bedroom?

"Sorry, but you were starting to snore," Barbara said with a grin. "I'm surprised you could sleep with that music so loud."

Hannah shook her head. "I wasn't sleeping. I was just resting my eyes."

"Sure. And checking the inside of your eyelids for holes."

Hannah took stock. Her eyes felt scratchy, her arm had little pinpricks of sensation where she'd jammed it up against the adjoining seat, and her teeth seemed to have knitted sweaters. There was no sense denying it. She'd been asleep. "You win. I admit I was sleeping. But I don't snore."

"Of course you don't. No one ever does." Barbara sat down in her chair. She looked like an aging prima ballerina herself, with her tall, elegant body and dark hair pulled back into a twist at the nape of her neck. "You wanted to talk to me about Sheriff Grant?"

"That's right."

"And the boys don't know you're here?"

Hannah grinned. Barbara was no slouch. "Bill's alibi was confirmed last night and he went back to work this morning. Mike took us to breakfast to celebrate and he told me I should be relieved that I don't have to investigate any longer."

"For a smart cop, Mike can be a pretty dumb guy when it comes to women," Barbara commented, exchanging smiles with Hannah. "Of course Sheriff Grant was no prize, either."

"That's what I heard. You don't think that Nettie…?" Hannah threw the suggestion out there and let it hang, waiting for Barbara to pick it up.

"Never," Barbara said, shaking her head. She sounded very definite. "It wasn't a marriage made in heaven, but Nettie loved him. She might have divorced him, but she'd never have killed him."

"That's what I thought. Any guesses as to who did?"

Barbara thought about it for a moment and then she sighed. "Not really. There were plenty of people that didn't like him, but I don't think any of them would actually kill him."

Just then the curtains began to move and both Hannah and Barbara stared up at the ceiling. Within thirty seconds, a stage was cordoned off and behind the drawn curtains, they could hear the girls coming in from the dressing room and taking their places.

"Here we go," Barbara said, turning to smile at Hannah. "I must have seen this thirty times in the past two weeks, but it never gets old for me. Krista's really good, Hannah. You're going to love it."

"I'm sure I will," Hannah said, feeling a pang of loss. Barbara was wearing the very same smile Hannah's grandmother had worn when she'd come to Washington Elementary to see Hannah as a pilgrim in her first grade Thanksgiving pageant. It hadn't seemed to matter in the slightest that Grandma Ingrid had helped her memorize the lines and she'd known everything that Hannah was supposed to say and do. She'd still been practically bursting with pride when Hannah and the rest of her class had taken their curtain call.

The music swelled to a crescendo and segued into Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake. It was a perfect choice for Halloween since it had been used in several big-name horror movies. After a few bars played, the curtains opened and Hannah almost laughed out loud as she saw the costumes the cheerleaders were wearing.

"Aren't they darling?" Barbara whispered.

Darling wasn't the word Hannah would have used to describe the costumes. This was obviously a darker version of Swan Lake since the girls were wearing black leotards and leggings with huge black bat wings attached to their arms.

As they watched, one girl moved to the center of the stage and began to dance a solo, dipping and swooping almost as if she were flying. Something about the girl was very familiar and the moment Hannah realized what it was, she turned to whisper to Barbara. "When did Krista grow up?"

"It happened when I wasn't looking. It seems like just last week I was reading her Winnie the Pooh. That's Leah Koester next to her."

"Beatrice's granddaughter?"

"That's right. I'm surprised Beatrice isn't here today. The only other practice she missed was the one last Monday night."

"She came to my cooking class," Hannah said.

"I know. When both of us realized that we were going to miss that practice, we made arrangements for Ted to pick the girls up when they were through and take them to a classmate's birthday party. We're certainly not going to do that again!"

"Why not?"

"Ted must have been rushed or something, because he didn't change clothes or stop off at the school to switch to Beatrice's car like he was supposed to do. The girls had to ride in Ted's work truck, and Krista got a rust stain on the skirt of her new party dress."

"That's too bad," Hannah commiserated.

"I still can't believe my daughter-in-law's attitude. She didn't even try to get the stain out. She just told Krista it was ruined and they'd go shopping at the mall for a new dress!"

"That does seem a little hasty," Hannah said, knowing that she was treading on eggshells.

"It's a good thing Krista inherited some sense from my side of the family! She took the dress to Marguerite and Clara Hollenbeck."

Hannah caught on immediately. Since Marguerite and Clara did the church linens and always got them spotless, Krista must have gone to them for advice. "Did they tell her how to remove the stain?"

"They were just leaving town when Krista caught them, but they're coming back this weekend. They offered to keep the dress and take a look at it then."

Once all the girls had taken turns in the center spotlight, the dance concluded and the curtains were drawn. The parents and grandparents who had come to watch the rehearsal applauded, and so did Hannah.

"You liked it?" Barbara asked.

"It was wonderful and I'm sure it'll be a big hit with the kids on Halloween. Do you have a few minutes, Beatrice? I've got some questions."

"I've got as long as it takes. The girls have a ride back to school and all I have to do is run downstairs and go grocery shopping."

Hannah grabbed her notebook and pen and asked about Sheriff Grant's work schedule the week before he was killed. She took notes on everything Barbara told her, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. "Was there anything odd you can think of? Any strange phone calls, or visits?"

"No," Barbara said, shaking her head. "I've thought about that ever since I took compassionate leave. There was absolutely nothing unusual."

"You said he spent a lot of time out of the office?"

"That's right. But that wasn't unusual, either. Sheriff Grant was a good politician and he always worked on something really big right before an election."

"Like what?" Hannah asked, even though she knew exactly what sort of thing Barbara was talking about.

"Like a high profile case that would prove what a good sheriff he was and get him reelected."

"And he did this before every election?"

"Before you ask, I don't know what it was this time. I don't even have a clue. Sheriff Grant never let anyone, me included, know what he had before he broke it to the media."

"Okay. Let's talk about the past cases. Do you think any of the original detectives would be mad enough to kill Sheriff Grant for stealing their cases?"

Barbara looked startled for a moment and then she smiled. "You are a good detective! But how did you find out about that?"

"Harry Wilcox. He called Bill and suggested that it might be a motive for murder."

"He was right, in a way. It could have been a motive, but it wasn't. Before I left the station, I checked out the detectives who lost their cases and none of them could have killed Sheriff Grant."