Cinnamon Roll Murder

Chapter Twenty-Three

“One thing’s for sure,” Norman said grinning at Hannah. “These are the best peach cookies I ever ate.”

“These are the only peach cookies I ever ate. But I agree that they’re wonderful. Michelle is really talented at making up recipes. These are so good, I think I might have to serve them at The Cookie Jar.”

“Not these!” Norman jerked the plate away from her. “These are my cookies. You’ll have to get the recipe from Michelle and bake your own cookies.”

A message flashed on Norman’s computer monitor and he gave a little sigh. They were in his home office, a large room with a sofa, chairs, a spectacular view of the woods, a fireplace, and two walls of floor to ceiling bookcases. “I’m sorry, Hannah. None of the hits I got on Bernard Alan Neiman panned out.”

“That’s okay. It just goes a little further toward proving my fake name theory.”

“But we may never know who Buddy actually was.”

“I know that, but Doc and Mike are working on identifying him too, and they may have gotten some leads we don’t know about. Mike’s running his fingerprints and he’s got deputies checking for anyone who fits Buddy’s description in the missing person’s records.”

“That’s a big job.”

“Yes it is, but Andrea says Bill’s all for it. He even called in some retired deputies to work on it.”

“Is Doc helping the deputies?”

“No, he’s got his own plan. He told Mother that he was going to post Buddy’s picture in something called Hospital News. It’s a magazine like those airline magazines you read when you’re on a plane. Hospitals subscribe to Hospital News and put it in their waiting rooms. Lots of people see it, and one of them might recognize Buddy and know who he really is.”

“Doc really wants to know, doesn’t he?”

“Yes. He says that since Buddy died in his hospital, he feels a certain responsibility. And that responsibility is doubled because Mother was the one who discovered Buddy’s body. Both of them think that Buddy may have family or someone who needs to know what happened to him.”

“They’re probably right. Human beings don’t live in a vacuum.”

Norman’s computer gave a little ding, and Hannah turned to look at the screen. “What does that ding mean?”

“It means I have an e-mail message. It’s probably Andrea with the photo. Time to get busy, Hannah. I’ll download the photo and we’ll see if we can find out more about the woman in Shelby’s photograph.”

Hannah watched with envy as Norman called up his e-mail program and signed in. She really ought to learn to do some of these things. He’d offered to teach her on several occasions, and she simply hadn’t gotten around to taking him up on his offer. Now it was too late if his marriage to Doctor Bev went off as planned. If, she reminded herself. Those two little letters contained a world of possibilities, and she intended to take full advantage of them.

“Here we go, Hannah.” Norman said, gesturing toward his large computer screen. “See that little circle with all the little lines radiating out from it in the center of the screen?”

“I see it.”

“That means the JPEG Andrea sent me is downloading.”

“Oh,” Hannah said, trying to sound as if she knew exactly what JPEG and downloading meant.

It wasn’t the same magic as watching a print come up in the developer, but Hannah decided that it was magic nonetheless as the image on the screen became detailed before her very eyes. She could see a woman and a man standing in the parking lot of Club Nineteen, in the same row that Andrea had parked her Volvo less than twelve hours ago. Was the man Buddy Neiman? She’d be hard-pressed to give a definitive answer. The best she could do was say that it could be Buddy Neiman.

“Let me see if I can make the woman any clearer,” Norman said, pulling down a menu from the top of the screen and clicking on several selections.

As Hannah watched, the dark background lightened slightly and she was now able to see the evergreen shrubs lining the parking lot and the arc light glinting off the hoods and fenders of the cars. She still could not have positively identified Buddy from the photo, but luckily that wasn’t necessary. Shelby had identified Buddy for them, and she had been an eyewitness. Not only that, she’d heard part of their conversation, which Hannah had written down.

“Are they arguing?” Norman asked, as he worked on the contrast of the photograph.

“Yes. Hold on and I’ll tell you what the waitress overheard them say.”

Out came the murder book, and Hannah flipped to the correct page. “She said, I’d know you anywhere, and Buddy said, You got the wrong guy, lady. Leave me alone! Then she said something that Shelby couldn’t hear. Buddy hollered at her to let go, she did, and then he shouted, I’m not the guy you think I am! And she shouted, Yes you are! I know you are! Then she slapped him and walked away. Shelby thinks she went to a parked car, but she didn’t see which one.”

“Interesting.”

“The argument?”

“No, look at this.” Norman used the mouse to point to a section of the photograph on the screen. “See these three spots of light here?”

“On the woman’s wrist?”

“Yes.”

“I see them. They’re a reflection of some type, aren’t they?”

“Exactly right. They must have caught the light from the arc light in the parking lot behind them. The reflection is clearer than the rest of the photo.”

Hannah’s mind was going so fast, she felt dizzy. This very same thing had happened with the photo of Boyd Watson’s killer. In that case, it had been one spot of light from the moon, and it had reflected off a cufflink that had led them to the killer. Could they be lucky enough to identify the woman who’d argued with Buddy by a reflection?

“This should work,” Norman said. “I’ll select the area of her wrist and start by enlarging two hundred percent.”

Hannah watched as the section of the photo Norman had selected filled more of the screen. “Could it be her watch? Or maybe a bracelet?”

“It could be, but it looks to me like something on the watch or bracelet is catching the light.”

“Can you enlarge it even more?”

“I think so. Those spots are bright.”

“And they’re in sharper focus than the rest of the photo?” Hannah asked.

“That’s right! How did you know that?”

“You told me when we were working on the photo Lucy took of the killer. You said that since the cufflink emitted reflective light of its own, it was sharper than the rest of the photo.”

Norman began to smile. “Do you remember everything I say?”

“Not everything. Sometimes I forget on purpose.”

“Give me an example of what you forget on purpose.”

The fact that you’re getting married and I’m losing you forever, Hannah thought, but of course she didn’t say that. “I’m forgetting the fact you said I should have my teeth checked.”

Norman laughed. “Okay. That’s fair. But you probably should have ...”

“I know. I know. One of these days when I have more time ... okay?”

While they were talking, Norman had changed the percentage of enlargement until it now stood at four hundred percent.

“They look like little starbursts,” Hannah said, but they’re getting a little ... what do you call that?”

“Grainy, if you’re doing print photography. Since this is digital photography, I think we could say that we’ve enlarged so much, the image is breaking up into pixels.”

“Would that be like Pointillism? It looks a little like George Seurat’s painting of boats on the Seine, except that the dots are like stars and all three of them are pinkish-orange.”

“That’s it exactly. The color is from the arc light. And you’re right when you say they look like starbursts. They’re snowflake ornaments on a silver bracelet.”

Hannah turned to stare at him in shock. “How do you know that?”

“I know because Bev has a bracelet just like it. My mother gave it to her for Christmas.”

Hannah was so shocked, she wasn’t sure what to say. “Do you ... do you think the woman in the photo is Bev?!”

“No,” Norman gave a little laugh. “You said this was taken at a jazz club, didn’t you?”

“Yes. Club Nineteen.”

“Well, Bev doesn’t really like jazz and I can’t imagine her going to a place like that. If you’d said it was taken outside Orchestra Hall, I would have believed it, but definitely not a jazz club.”

Don’t push it, Hannah’s better sense put the warning in her mind. The seed of doubt has been planted. Now let it grow. You already know she’s a liar, but he doesn’t know that yet.

“I wonder where your mother got that bracelet,” Hannah said, pushing back the suspicious thoughts that were filling her mind.

“I’m not sure. I know she picked it up at the last minute. It’s only nine and I’m sure they’re still up. Why don’t we call and ask her?”

“The snowflake bracelet?” Carrie repeated when Hannah had posed the question to her. “Of course I remember. Is Norman still on, dear?”

“No. Would you like to ...”

“No! I just don’t want him to know how much I paid for it. You see, I always pick up a few extra Christmas presents every year. People visit over the holidays and if they bring gifts, I like to give them something in return. I call them Annies, just like my mother used to. That’s for Annie-body. Isn’t that cute?”

“Yes, it is,” Hannah said quite honestly. She also bought some generic gifts for Christmas drop-ins, and so did Delores.

“Well, that bracelet was an Annie. I had no idea Norman was going to drop by with her. And since she brought me flowers, I gave her one of my Annies.”

“Do you remember where you got it?”

“Oh, yes. It was on-sale at CostMart for twenty-five dollars. I bought three, but that’s the only one I used this year.”

“Do you know if they were a popular item?” Hannah asked, hoping that Carrie might have asked at the jewelry counter about them.

“Oh, yes! They were very popular. The lady in line ahead of me was buying four, and the lady behind me had two in her cart. I heard the clerk tell the lady in front that they’d gotten in a shipment that morning and they were already almost sold out. They were online, too. Earl checked for me. I don’t know where CostMart got them, but they were just darling, the design was gorgeous, and they were a great value for the price.”

“Stop, Carrie!”

“What?”

“You’re making me want to go to CostMart and see what they’ve got. And I hate to shop.”

“Well, just call me any time you want to go and I’ll go with you. I’ve got my CostMart Constant Customer Card, and I get an automatic fifteen percent off.”

Hannah gave a little groan, and Norman looked worried. “What is it?” he asked.

“Your mother’s convincing me I should go to CostMart with her. She’s very convincing.”

Carrie laughed on the other end of the line. Of course she’d heard their conversation. “I told you. Anytime you want to go, just call me. Oops! I’ve got to go. Earl’s calling me, and that means his favorite program is on. Talk to you later, Angel.”

“What’s the matter?” Norman asked, noticing the puzzled expression on Hannah’s face as she hung up the phone.

“Nothing really, but ... your mother just called me Angel. She’s never called me Angel before.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. She said, Talk to you later, Angel. And then she hung up. What does that mean?”

“It means she really likes you.”

“I know she likes me.”

“You don’t understand. It means she really likes you. The only people she calls Angel are Earl and me. And now you.”

“She’s that pleased that I might want to go to CostMart with her?”

“No, I think it’s more than that,” Norman said. And then he reached out to give her a hug.

It was precisely nine-thirty when the phone rang. They were in the kitchen, watching Michelle bake Doc’s Bran-Oatmeal-Raisin Cookies and Norman reached out to answer it. “Hello. It’s Norman,” he said. He listened for a minute and then he said, “Hold on for a second, okay? I’ll be right back with you.”

Hannah knew who it was the moment that Norman got up from the kitchen table and went off into the den with the remote phone. Doctor Bev was checking in on her intended. Bev, she mouthed to Michelle, and Michelle nodded. And they were perfectly silent until Norman had closed the door to the den behind him.

“Tight rein,” Michelle commented.

“And how! I’m surprised she doesn’t have spies out to make sure he’s not visiting Cuddles, and ... uh-oh! There goes my cell phone. I wonder who it is.”

“Answer it and you’ll know,” Michelle suggested, simply stating the obvious.

“Good idea.” Hannah pulled her cell phone out of her purse and flipped it open. “Hello?”

“Hannah! Where are you?” Mike, Hannah mouthed the word to Michelle. “I’m at Norman’s with Michelle. Where are you?”

“Between a rock and a hard place.”

“No. I mean where are you?”

“Oh. I’m about forty-five minutes away. I’m with Lonnie, and he wanted to stop by to see Michelle. Can we come out to Norman’s house?”

“Of course,” Hannah said, not even thinking twice. “Come on out and we’ll see if we can rustle you up something to eat. You’re hungry, right?”

“A working detective is always hungry. Wha’cha got?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to touch base with Michelle on that.”

“Fine. With both of you cooking, it’s bound to be good, whatever it is. Thanks, Hannah. Oh ... is Norman there? I mean right there?”

“No, he’s on the phone with Bev in the den.”

“Good. I just wanted to find out if you got that DNA sample. And before you ask me how I know, let me just remind you that I’m a detective and I can see right through the excuses that Andrea gives Bill. You went to see Bev’s mother, didn’t you?”

“Of course we did. Does Bill know?”

“If he does, he’s never going to admit it. Think about it, Hannah. Bill’s the Winnetka County Sheriff. He can’t admit he knows his wife entered into a conspiracy with his sister-in-law to do something like that. So did you get it?”

“Just let me repeat Andrea’s words when we walked into The Cookie Jar this afternoon. She said, Mission accomplished .”

“Good work. Look, Hannah. I can do something to rush this through our DNA lab. And I can pick up the sample tonight.”

“Thanks Mike, but we’ve got it covered. Doc Knight has a friend at a DNA lab, and he’s driving the samples there tomorrow. His friend is going to expedite the whole thing.”

“That’s a relief! I was going to offer to run it through the police DNA lab, but I’d be risking my job on a civilian matter like that.”

“But you still would have done it?”

“Sure I would have done it. Norman’s my friend and there are some things more important than jobs.”

“You’re a good guy, Mike.”

Mike chuckled. “Only some of the time. And when I’m bad, I’m really bad. But that’s part of my appeal ... right, Hannah?”

“Maybe.” Hannah began to smile. Mike was attractive when he was being slightly wicked, and he was slightly wicked a lot of the time. She was just getting ready to say goodbye and take a look in Norman’s freezer and refrigerator to figure out what they could serve to two very hungry detectives when Norman walked back into the room.

“Hi, Norman,” she said, holding out her cell phone. “Mike’s on my cell phone. He wants to know if he can come over with Lonnie.”

Norman grabbed the cell phone and greeted Mike. “What’s your ETA?” he asked. He listened for a moment or two, and then he laughed. “That’s fine. I’ll start thawing the steaks and see what the girls can put together. See you in about forty-five then.”