Fudge Cupcake Murder

Chapter Fifteen

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."

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.