Strawberry Shortcake Murder

Chapter Fourteen

Once Hannah had checked in with Lisa and thanked her for the extra work she’d done to fill Sally’s order for the dessert buffet, she conducted a poll of the customers in her coffee shop. None of them, including Rod, who’d come in on a late lunch break, had seen Lucy all day.

“Nothing?” Andrea asked, as Hannah came back to the counter.

“No sightings. Come on, Andrea. I’ve got to bake.” Hannah took Andrea back to the bakery and got her settled on a stool with a mug of coffee and a plate of Pecan Chews.

“I can help you if you tell me what to do,” Andrea offered.

“I’ll let you know.” Hannah headed off to the cooler to retrieve the chilled bowls of Cocoa Snap dough that Lisa had mixed up. She plunked them down on the surface of the stainless-steel work counter and watched as Andrea finished her third Pecan Chew. “Hand me that cookie scoop, will you? The medium-sized one.”

Andrea found the right scoop and handed it over. “Anything else? I really want to help you, Hannah.”

“You can… wait… let me think.” Hannah caught herself just in time. She’d been about to ask Andrea to help her scoop out dough, roll it into balls, and dip the balls in white sugar, but that task would require explaining, and Hannah didn’t have time to instruct Andrea in the fine points of cookie baking right now. “I know what you can do. You can get that notebook by the sink and write down all the facts we learned today. We need some kind of record.”

Andrea jumped up to retrieve the notepad. “Okay. I’m good at taking notes. What shall I write down first?”

“Make a list of Lucy’s victims. We’ll have to talk to them all eventually to find out exactly what she extorted from them. Start with Norman.”

“Okay.” Andrea wrote down Norman’s name. “He was just doing her caps, right?”

Hannah nodded as she rolled cookie balls and placed the in the bowl of sugar. “Then there’s Claire. We know she gave Lucy clothing.”

“And Mayor Bascomb, but we don’t’ know what he gave her.”

“It’s probably money, but I’ll have to check. Just put down a question mark for now.” Hannah placed twelve sugar-coated dough balls on a cookie sheet and flattened them with a spatula. “Write down the contestant’s husband next.”

“Mr. Avery?”

“That’s right. Put down cash after his name, but don’t specify the amount.”

Andrea looked up with a puzzled expression. “But you counted the money. You said it was two thousand dollars.”

“It was, but there could have been more. Lucy may have spent some of it. I’ll have to talk to Mr. Avery to find out how much was in the envelope when he gave it to her.”

“Okay.” Andrea put a dollar sign next to Mr. Avery’s name and added a question mark. “Who’s next?”

Hannah carried two cookies sheets to the oven and slid them inside. She set the timer and came back to the workstation to roll more dough balls. “Put down Boyd’s name. We’re not sure if Lucy actually succeeded with him, but I’ll have Danielle check her bank records to see if there’s any money missing.”

“She should check her credit-card bills, too. Boyd might have charged something for Lucy or taken a cash advance.”

“Good point. Jot down a note so I don’t forget to tell her.” Hannah filled two more cookie sheets and carried them over to her second oven. When she came back to the workstation, she saw that Andrea was frowning. “What is it?”

“I was just thinking about Lucy’s evidence. I know you gave back Norman’s letter, but are you going to turn the rest of it over to Mike and Bill?”

“I don’t know yet. I guess I’ll have to, if it has anything to do with Boyd’s murder.”

“But what if it doesn’t?”

Hannah thought about it for a moment. “I guess that’ll be up to Lucy’s victims. When I return the photos to them, I’ll ask if they want to prosecute.”

“They won’t.”

Andrea sounded very definite, and Hannah glanced at her. “They might. What Lucy did is illegal.”

“And what they did is embarrassing. Claire and Mayor Bascomb won’t want his wife to find out about their affair. That’s why they gave Lucy what she wanted in the first place.”

“That’s true.” Hannah started to roll more dough balls.

“And Norman won’t prosecute. You said he told you that his mother would be devastated if she found out what was in that letter.”

Hannah picked up the bowl with the dough balls and sugar and shook it to coat them. “You’ve got a point. Mr. Avery won’t want to prosecute either. And Boyd’s dead, so he can’t.”

“Then Lucy’s going to get away with it?”

Hannah shrugged. “Maybe. If her victims choose not to file charges, there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“But that’s not fair!” Andrea assumed an expression very similar to the one that Hannah had seen on Moishe’s face the only time she’d tried to give him a bath. Her sister was spitting mad and outraged. “We’ve got to do something, Hannah. We can’t let Lucy get off scot-free!”

Hannah certainly agreed with her sister’s sentiments. It wasn’t fair to let Lucy get away with extortion. “Maybe we’ve already done something. Lucy won’t know who broke into her apartment and took her stash of evidence. She’ll wake up every morning, wondering when the other shoe is going to drop. And when her victims stop paying her off, she’ll really start to sweat.”

“I get it.” Andrea started to smile. “Lucy won’t know if they’re planning to prosecute her. Being locked up in jail must be awful, but at least you know when you’re going to get out. Lucy’ll have this sword hanging over her head.”

The timer beeped, and Hannah got up to take the first two pans of cookies from the oven. She set them on the bakers’ rack to cool for a moment and slid in two more.

“That must be exactly how her victims felt,” Andrea went on. “Even if they gave Lucy what she asked, they could never be sure that she wouldn’t turn around and expose their secrets anyway. I know they shouldn’t have done what they did, but it’s minor compared to what Lucy pulled.”

Hannah stared at Andrea in surprise. Her sister looked as grim as a judge preparing to hand down a death sentence. Andrea really had it in for Lucy, and it wasn’t like her to be this vindictive. “Does this have anything to do with the phone call you got yesterday morning?”

“That’s part of it.” Andrea’s grim look got a lot grimmer. “Lucy should have known better than to call me that early on my day off!”

* * *

Hannah stood behind the refreshment table and watched as Gail Hanson, Bonnie Surma, and Irma York headed off to the ladies’ room with bulging garment bags containing their costumes. She’d dropped Andrea off at home after they’d finished baking the cookies. They planned to meet at Hannah’s bakery later, just as soon as Hannah was through with her catering and Andrea had finished showing the farmhouse she’d scheduled for three.

The Cocoa Snaps had turned out just fine, despite Andrea’s “help”. When Hannah had run out of things for Andrea to write in the notebook, her sister had insisted on rolling dough balls for her. Most of Andrea’s had been lopsided, but Hannah hadn’t wanted to embarrass her by rerolling them, and she’d baked them without saying a word. Now, she stashed them on the bottom layer of the platter and piled three layers of perfectly round cookies on top. If the members of the Lake Eden Regency Romance Club were hungry enough to eat their way to the bottom layer, they’d just have to put up with Andrea’s misshapen efforts.

When the coffee was perking, both caf and decaf, and the water for tea was simmering, Hannah set out cups next to the urns and stood back to assess her work. She had cream, sugar, and artificial sweetener, as well as a small cut-glass bowl filled with lemon wedges for the ladies who took lemon with their tea. Everything was ready. Once the reading was over and the brief meeting had concluded, she could serve.

Hannah looked up and the sight that greeted her was almost enough to make her break out in laughter. Bonnie, Gail, and Irma had come back in costume, and they were a sight to behold.

Delores had told her a bit about the reading while Hannah had lugged in her supplies. There were only two main characters, a young miss who’d lost her memory in a carriage accident, and a captain on Wellington’s staff who claimed to be her fiancé. Bonnie, who had short dark hair and a slim figure, was playing the young miss. Gail, a full-figured woman with curves to spare, was playing her intended husband. Somehow, Hannah managed to keep a straight face as she stared at the odd pairing. If she’d been consulted about the casting, she would have reversed their roles. Gail was practically popping the buttons on the front of her red regimental jacket, and her white pants were straining at the seams. She’d stuffed her long blond hair up under a military-style cap that Hannah suspected was far from authentic for the period, but she’d forgotten to take off her diamond earrings.

Bonnie looked equally ridiculous in a sprigged muslin traveling gown with a high neck and bustle. The bodice of the dress had been cut for a bustier woman and drooped down in folds to her waist. She’d attempted to look more feminine by adding a straw hat decorated with streamers and a red-plastic bird, but the hat was too large and kept slipping down over one eye.

The scene was set in a carriage, and Hannah had to admit that they’d done that well. Two piano benches draped with green velvet served as the carriage seats, and a canopy of black material had been draped in an arch that rose around and above them to simulate the sides and top of the coach.

Irma York was in costume as well, and Delores had explained that she was their “tiger”, the boy who hung on to the back of the carriage and rode on the outside. Irma was dressed in a suit of livery. It was actually her son’s a Jordan High band uniform, but the illusion wasn’t bad. Delores had told her that Bonnie and Gail would speak the lines of dialogue and Irma would read the descriptive passages.

They were almost ready to begin, and Hannah glanced around for Lucy. She failed to spot her in the rows of chairs that had been arranged for the audience, but perhaps she was coming later.

Irma climbed up on a ladder so that her head appeared above the top of the black canopy. She looked a little nervous, and Hannah could understand why. The canopy was high, and Delores had once mentioned that Irma wasn’t comfortable with heights. Irma cleared her throat, then began.

“We’re doing a reading from A Secret Scandal by Kathryn Kirkwood.” Irma’s voice squeaked slightly. She was holding the book open with her left hand and clutching at the rail of the ladder with the other. “Captain Hargrove, played by Gail Hanson, has managed to locate his long-lost bridge-to-be. She’s Lady Sarah Atherton, played by Bonnie Surma. Lady Sarah is the victim of a carriage accident, and she’s lost her memory. Is she really Sarah Atherton? And is Captain Hargrove really her intended husband?”

Irma cleared her throat again and looked down at the book. She squinted slightly and began to read. “Sarah was silent as the carriage began to move. She raised her eyes to look at the captain, and his expression did not reassure her. He was gazing at her intently, almost as if her were searching for something. Why was he staring at her so?”

Bonnie took her cue and looked up at Gail. When she did, her hat slipped all the way to the back of her head. “Please do not stare at me so, Captain Hargrove.”

“My apologies,” Gail said, her voice as deep as she could make it.

Bonnie looked up again, taking the precaution of holding her hat. “You said you were taking me home, Captain. Where is home?”

“I had forgotten that you would not remember,” Gail responded, still trying for the deep voice. “I am carrying you to Hargrove Manor.”

Bonnie frowned, turning toward the audience so that they could see it. “But Hargrove Manor would be your home, not mine.”

“It is not my home either. Hargrove Manor belongs to my brother, the Duke of Ashford. Our wedding shall take place there.”

“And when will that be, Captain?”

Gail paused for dramatic effect, then she said, “We shall exchange our vows in less than a fortnight. The invitations have already been issued.”

“You would wed me when I cannot remember you?” Bonnie opened her mouth and put her hand to the side of her face in a gesture that Hannah assumed was designed to portray shock.

“Of course. I fail to see what difference it will make, so long as I remember you.”

“It makes a great difference to me! I shall not wed a stranger!”

Gail reared back to convey surprise, but she carried it a bit too far. The black cloth quivered as she poked it with her elbow, and she came close to overbalancing on the piano bench. “You would choose to disappoint our wedding guests?”

“Better them than me, Captain.” Bonnie turned to face the audience and gave a brave little smile. “Better them than me.”

Irma York brought her hands together in a signal for the audience to applaud. The audience took their cue, and there was a rousing ovation. As Hannah checked to make sure she had everything ready at the refreshment table, she wondered if people in Regency England had actually spoken in such a formal and stilted way. Perhaps it was all a hoax that had been initiated by her mother’s all-time favorite Regency Romance author, Georgette Heyer, and been perpetuate by every other author who had followed in her footsteps.

Bonnie rushed up to the refreshment table, still holding her hat. The bird had slipped. It was hanging by one foot, and its painted eyes looked startled. “Have you seen Lucy Richards?”

“No. You’re losing your bird, Bonnie.”

“That dumb bird! I glued it on three times.” Bonnie reached up and yanked it off. “She promised to be here to take pictures for the paper.”

“If you have a camera, I’ll take them.”

“You will? That’s nice of you, Hannah.” Bonnie looked very relieved. “Come up to the stage and we’ll do it right now. Did you like the reading?”

“It was very entertaining,” Hannah said the first thing that popped into her head, then realized that it was true. The reading had been so entertaining, she’d be chuckling about it for weeks.