Strawberry Shortcake Murder

Chapter Seventeen

Tonight’s winner had been a man, and Hannah was glad. Baking was an equal-opportunity avocation. Once the retired army master sergeant had accepted his finalist ribbon, Clayton Hart had reminded the audience that tomorrow was the final night of the Hartland Flour Dessert Bake-Off. The show would be a full hour, and the three finalists would actually bake on camera. Each contestant would be taped live, and the tape would be shown on three giant screens that would be suspended from the ceiling, a technique that KCOW producer Mason Kimball had devised so that the audience could watch their every move.

When the show was over, Hannah turned to Edna Ferguson. “Did you mean what you said about Sergeant Hogarth’s cinnamon buns?”

“I wouldn’t have said it if I hadn’t,” Edna replied, “and I’ll say it again. His cinnamon buns are even better than mine.”

“And you make the best cinnamon buns in town.” Hannah’s stomach growled just thinking about them. She hadn’t eaten since Sally’s lunch buffet, if you didn’t count the tiny samples of desserts she’d judged, and she was ravenous. Unfortunately, there wasn’t time to eat now. She had to find Andrea to see if her sister had managed to locate the elusive Lucy Richards, and then she had to run out to the production truck to ask Mason Kimball for permission to review Rudy’s outtakes.

“Are you going out to the inn for the wrap party?” Edna asked.

“Not tonight. I’ve got more things to do than there are hours left in the day.” Hannah stood up and straightened the skirt of her new suit. It was a color Claire had called “bracken,” a shade midway between a brown and an orange. Hannah had balked at even trying it on. Anything orange clashed with her hair. But Claire had insisted, and it really did look stunning on her.

Andrea was waving from the wings, and Lucy wasn’t with her. Hannah headed off in her sister’s direction with a frown on her face. Either Lucy had skipped town or she was… Hannah stopped herself in mid-thought and repeated her father’s standard maxim. There was no sense in borrowing trouble. Of course, her father had lived with Delores all those years, and he didn’t have to borrow trouble; it had resided right under his roof.

“Lucy’s not here,” Andrea reported as soon as Hannah was close enough to hear her, “but I can help you look for her. Bill has to go back to the station and Tracey wants to stay with Grandma again.”

Hannah knew what her sister was asking. Andrea needed to be needed again. “That’s great, Andrea. I could really use your help.”

Andrea’s face lit up with a smile. “What are we doing first?”

“I have to run out to the production truck for a minute. You can wait for me in the lobby. Ask around about Lucy. Maybe somebody’s spotted her.”

“I did that already.” Andrea sounded a bit petulant. “Nobody has.”

Hannah reached into her purse and pulled out her keys. “All right. Then see if you can snag somebody to carry my boxes out to the truck. That’ll save us some time.”

“Okay.” Andrea looked much happier as she grabbed the keys. “I like to be helpful.”

“You’re helpful, believe me. And if you want to help even more, pull around the building and park next to the production truck. That’ll save us even more time.”

Hannah filed her discovery about Andrea away for future reference as she headed out the back door and dashed across the parking lot to the KCOW production truck. Her sister needed to be needed, and she liked to be helpful. She just hoped that Andrea still wanted to be helpful after they’d watched four hours of Rudy’s outtakes.

Mason Kimball was just coming down the metal steps when Hannah reached the production truck. He looked tired, and there were dark circles under his eyes. “Hi, Hannah. What are you doing out here?”

“I talked to Rudy before the show,” Hannah told him, going into her rehearsed speech. “He told me all about how you make the montage, and I’d really like to watch his outtakes if you don’t mind.”

“You want to watch all of Rudy’s outtakes? There’s over twelve hours.”

Hannah tried for a guileless expression. “I’d like to, but I don’t have twelve hours to spare. I’m really more interested in the footage that Rudy shot on Wednesday. I thought that montage was the best.”

Mason began to frown, and Hannah knew he hadn’t bought her excuse. “Wednesday was the night that Boyd Watson judged the contest. Does this have anything to do with his murder?”

“Of course not,” Hannah lied through her teeth. “I’m just interested in Rudy’s outtakes. I think he’s very talented.”

Mason’s frown grew deeper. “He is, but nobody’s that interested in outtakes. I think you’d better tell me what you’re really after. Are you working with the sheriff’s department again?”

“No, and I wasn’t working with them before,” Hannah declared honestly. She hadn’t been exactly working with the sheriff’s department; she’d been working with Bill.

“But I heard you solved Rod LaSalle’s murder.”

“Bill solved it, not me. I just happened to overhear something that helped him, that’s all.”

Mason shook his head like a dog coming out of the lake, not quite as fast, but just as definite. “No way, Hannah. I’m not getting in the middle here. If you don’t tell me exactly why you want to watch the outtakes, I can’t let you do it.”

“Okay.” Hannah sighed deeply. She wasn’t about to mention the pictures that Lucy had taken of the murder and her search for the killer’s cuff links, but she had to tell Mason something convincing. “Look, Mason. I know it’s a long shot, but maybe there’s some footage of Boyd before the contest started. Rudy told me he taped the audience coming in. If Boyd stopped to talk to anyone, Bill and Mike should know about it. Then they can interview that person and find out about Boyd’s state of mind and what he said.”

Mason thought about it for a minute. “Okay. I don’t remember any footage of Boyd, but I didn’t watch the whole thing.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Sure. I don’t have any objections. There’s only one problem.”

“What’s that?”

“You’ll have to watch the tapes tonight.”

Hannah groaned. “Tonight?”

“I’m afraid so. Tomorrow’s the final day of the contest and we’ll be so busy, I won’t be able to spare anyone to help you.”

“Can’t I do it alone?”

“No. The engineer will have to find the right tapes for you and load them. You’ll be using a sophisticated piece of equipment, and he’ll have to teach you what to do. It’s possible we’ll need some of that footage for the final montage. I can’t take the chance that you’ll accidentally erase it.”

“Okay. I’ll watch the tapes tonight. What time does the engineer leave?”

“He doesn’t. We never leave the truck unattended at night when we’re out on location. There’s just too much valuable equipment inside.”

“Then I’ll have time to run home and feed my cat first?”

“Sure. Take as long as you like. I’ll tell P.K. to expect you.” Mason turned to go back into the truck but hesitated. “If you wait a second, I’ll walk you to your truck. You shouldn’t be out here alone at night.”

“Thanks, Mason.” Hannah stood at the base of the metal steps and waited for Mason to talk to his engineer. It only took a moment, then the door opened and he came back down the steps.

“You’re all set. I told P.K. which tapes you wanted, and he’ll have them all ready for you. Do you really think you’ll find anything, Hannah?”

“Probably not, but I have to do it. And there might be some good shots of Tracey. I didn’t lie to you before, Mason. I really am interested.”

“If you find any footage of her, write down the time codes. The engineer will show you where to find them. We can dupe a tape of her for you. She looked great on camera.”

It was snowing as they walked across the parking lot, and a cold wind whistled across the asphalt. Mason lifted his arms to turn up his collar and Hannah had all she could do not to gasp. Mason was wearing a pair of antique cuff links with ducks on them.

“Those are beautiful cuff links,” Hannah said, hoping her voice wasn’t shaking. “Are they antique?”

“Yes. They belonged to Ellen’s grandfather. He had quite a large collection.”

Hannah was almost afraid to ask, but she did. “Did Ellen’s grandfather happen to have a gold pair of cuff links with horse heads on them?”

“Maybe. I know he had a couple of pairs with dogs on them, and I’ve got this pair with the ducks. Is it important?”

“Yes.” Hannah’s mind raced for a plausible excuse. She certainly didn’t want to tell Mason that Boyd’s killer had worn horse head cuff links. “Mother collects antique jewelry, and she’s looking for a pair like that. I thought they’d make a great Christmas present for her, but I haven’t been able to find any.”

“I’ll ask Ellen to look through her jewelry box. Would they be valuable?”

“Yes.” Hannah left it at that. Mason had no idea how valuable those cuff links were. While it was true that they’d be worth a bundle on the antique jewelry circuit, they were equally valuable when it came to proving that Danielle hadn’t murdered Boyd.

“I hope Ellen didn’t sell them. She wanted to buy new furniture and she sold off part of the collection about six years ago.”

“To a private collector?”

“No, she placed them on consignment with one of the jewelers out at the mall.”

Hannah felt her spirits plummet faster than a gunned-down goose. If the horse head cuff links she’d seen in Lucy’s photo had been up for sale at the Tri-County Mall, anyone in the area could have bought them.

“Isn’t that your truck?” Mason pointed to the vehicle that was rounding the corner of the building.

“Yes. Andrea’s bringing it around for me.” Hannah waved her arms, and Andrea pulled up next to them. Her sister slid over to the passenger’s side and Mason reached out to open the driver’s door for Hannah.

Hannah was pleased. Chivalry wasn’t dead. She smiled at Mason, and said, “I think you’re doing a great job with the show. Everyone seems to love it.”

“Thanks, Hannah. The numbers are in, and we’ve got a lot more viewers than I thought we’d have. You’re really pulling them in by doing that baking on the news.”

“Good.” Hannah climbed behind the wheel and waved good night to Mason. “Don’t forget to ask Ellen about those cuff links. If she still has them, I’d like to buy them for Mother’s collection.”

Andrea waited until Hannah had pulled around the corner, then she reached out to grab her arm. “What cuff links? Mother doesn’t collect cuff links.”

“I know. That was just an excuse. Mason was wearing a pair of antique cuff links with ducks on them, and he said they were part of a collection that Ellen had inherited from her grandfather.”

Andrea gasped. “You think that Mason has the horse head cuff links?”

“No. He told me there might have been a pair like that, but Ellen sold off part of the collection about six years ago through a jeweler at the mall. If she had them and if she sold them, anyone could have bought them. It’s another dead end.”

Andrea sighed. “Oh well. Nobody ever said this would be easy. Where are we going first?”

“To my place. I want to change clothes and feed Moishe. If I don’t get there soon, he’ll eat my couch. Mike and I went through a couple of bags of pretzels on Wednesday night, and I haven’t had time to vacuum the crumbs. One bag was garlic, and that’s Moishe’s favorite.”

* * *

To say that Moishe had been glad to see them would have been a gross understatement. The moment Hannah had unlocked the door to her condo, he’d hurtled into her arms and licked her face. When that had been done to his satisfaction, he’d jumped down and raced to his empty food bowl to yowl pitifully.

Hannah had gone straight to the kitchen to get out his food. As she’d taken off the bungee cord that held the cupboard door shut, she’d noticed that it had been chewed almost through. She’d gotten there just in time. Five minutes more and the whole kitchen floor would have been ankle deep in kitty crunchies. She’d fed Moishe, changed into more comfortable clothes, and they’d left. And now they were in the garage, preparing to climb back into Hannah’s still-warm Suburban.

“Where are we going?” Andrea asked, opening her door.

“Vera Olsen’s house. I want to check with her to see if she’s seen Lucy. If she says she hasn’t, I’m going to ask her if we can go up to Lucy’s apartment. We might find a clue to where she’s gone.”

“Do you really think that Vera will let us in?” Andrea sounded doubtful.

“Sure. Don’t sweat the small stuff, Andrea. I’ll think of some excuse when we get there.”

It didn’t take long to drive to Vera’s house. Hannah parked on the street, and they got out of the truck.

“Lucy’s not home,” Hannah stated, as they walked up the sidewalk to Vera’s front porch.

“What are you, psychic?”

Hannah laughed. “I wish. Then we’d know where Lucy is.”

“How can you tell that she’s not home?”

Hannah pulled Andrea back a couple of paces and pointed up at Lucy’s windows. “There’s only one light. It’s the one in the kitchen over the sink, and it was on this morning. You don’t think she’s up there sitting in the dark, do you?”

“I guess not.” Andrea opened the porch door and they stepped inside. “Have you thought about what you’re going to tell Vera?”

“No, I’ll let you play it by ear.”

Andrea shot her a startled glance. “Me? Why me?”

“Because you’re better with people than I am.” Hannah reached out to press the doorbell that was mounted on the wall next to the heavy door. “After all, you’re a real-estate agent.”

Andrea muttered something that she never would have said in front of Tracey. And then she poked Hannah as they heard footsteps coming toward the door. “Shh! Here comes Vera.”

Vera Olsen pulled open the door and smiled as she saw them standing on her porch. “Hannah and Andrea. What a surprise. Did Lucy send you with my cookies?”

“Yes.” Andrea responded immediately, picking up on the cue that Vera had given her. “We didn’t bring them in because we weren’t sure you were home. Go get the cookies that Lucy gave us for Mrs. Olsen, will you, Hannah?”

Hannah raced back to the truck as fast as she could and grabbed a bag of cookies. When she came back, she found Andrea and Vera sitting on the awful lime-colored, sectional sofas in Vera’s living room, talking like long-lost friends. Hannah figured that Vera must have gotten the furniture at a massive discount. No sane person would pay retail for that color.

Vera smiled at Hannah, took the cookies, and waved her down to one of the bilious-colored cushions. “That’s what I mean, Andrea. Even with all the hours Lucy’s been putting in at the paper, she still remembered my cookies. Sometimes I have to complain about the mess in her apartment, but other than that, she’s a real sweet girl. I figure she’ll learn to be neater if I just keep reminding her.”

“I’m sure she will,” Andrea gave Vera her sweetest smile, “especially since she has you to teach her. She was really concerned that we bring you your cookies before you went to bed. When did you ask for them?”

“Yesterday morning. I have a sweet tooth, you know. I expected her to bring them last night, but she must have gotten home late.”

“You didn’t hear her come home last night?”

“No. She told me she had to take some pictures out at the inn, and the party must have lasted a long time. I didn’t go to bed until eleven-thirty, and I know she wasn’t home yet.”

Hannah couldn’t keep silent. It was just too important. “You didn’t see her this morning?”

“No, she was already gone when I went up with her breakfast. I made waffles, and they’re her favorites.”

Hannah avoided Andrea’s eyes. Both of them knew that Vera hadn’t knocked on Lucy’s door with a plate of waffles. Hot Stuff had climbed the inside staircase to the attic to answer the e-mail she got from Silver Wolf.

“That girl works too hard.” Vera sighed. “And she never gets enough sleep. Rod depends on her for everything, you know. She writes all the big stories, and she’s out taking pictures for the paper at all hours of the day and night.”

Hannah bit the inside of her cheek to keep silent. The pictures that Lucy had taken certainly weren’t for Rod at the paper!

Andrea shot Hannah a sharp glance, one that said, Keep it zipped! Then she turned to Vera again. “Lucy asked us to pick up some film for her. Is it all right if we go up to her apartment to get it?”

“Go ahead. Use the inside staircase. Then you won’t have to go out in the cold again. She gave you her key, didn’t she?”

Andrea turned to Hannah. “You have it, Hannah?”

“No, I don’t.” Hannah played it with a perfectly straight face. “I thought you had it.”

“Never mind. You can use mine.” Vera reached out, picked up a key chain from the coffee table, and handed it to Hannah. “Go upstairs and open the door at the end of the hallway. There’s another set of stairs that leads up to the attic and the light’s on a switch just inside the door.”

Andrea thanked her and Hannah followed her up the stairs. Neither one of them said a word until they’d climbed up to the second floor and shut the hallway door behind them.

“That was brilliant.” Hannah patted her sister on the shoulder as they started up the second, much narrower staircase.

“Thanks.” Andrea turned to smile at Hannah over her should. “But you get to wing it if Lucy’s there. I’ve already done my part.”

Lucy didn’t answer their knock, and Hannah used Vera’s key. She opened the door, flicked on the light, and both sisters halted, as if they’d run into an invisible wall. Someone had been in Lucy’s apartment since they’d left it this morning.

“What happened?” Andrea gasped, staring at the mess in Lucy’s main room.

“Somebody was searching for something,” Hannah stated the obvious, “and they didn’t straighten up after they were through.”

The room looked as if a tornado had ripped through it the bedding had been stripped from Lucy’s bed and lay in a heap on the floor. All the drawers in Lucy’s rolltop desk had been pulled out and dumped, and film canisters with strips of ruined film protruding like long, curled tongues were scattered on the rug. Lucy’s computer was on and a message was flashing on the screen. It read, ALL FILES ON YOUR C: DRIVE HAVE BEEN DELETED.

“Did Lucy do this?” Andrea asked, shivering slightly.

“Not Lucy.”

“How do you know?”

Hannah bent down to examine one of the gutted film canisters “Lucy would never do something like this. It would ruin all her photos.”

“The killer!” Andrea shivered, then shuddered. “He must have been searching for the pictures that Lucy took of him. And since he couldn’t tell which film canister Lucy used, he destroyed them all.”

“You’re quick, Andrea. And you could be right. But how did the killer know that Lucy had taken the pictures?”

“Lucy must have told him. She must have tried to blackmail him, Hannah.”

“That fits with what Herb told us. Lucy said that she was working on something important, and if it worked out, she’d have enough money to buy her leased car. She must have figures that Boyd’s killer would cough up big bucks for those negatives.”

“Lucy should have known better. I really didn’t think she’d be so foolish.”

“Not foolish, stupid,” Hannah corrected her. “Really stupid.”

“Do you think that the killer…?” Andrea stopped speaking and steadied herself against the wall. She seemed unable to voice that possibility. It didn’t matter. Hannah knew exactly what she meant.

“That’s one theory, Andrea, but it’s just a theory. We don’t even know, for sure, that Lucy talked to Boyd’s killer.” Hannah’s mind went into overdrive, attempting to come up with an alternate scenario. Her gut told her that Boyd’s killer had been the one who’d broken into Lucy’s apartment, but Andrea wouldn’t be much help if she panicked. “All this could have been done by one of Lucy’s other blackmail victims.”

A little color began to come back to Andrea’s cheeks as she thought about that. “Do you really think so?”

“It’s possible. They’d have a lot to gain, too. It could have been Mayor Bascomb, or Claire, or Mr. Avery.”

“Mr. Avery?”

“Why not? Lucy had his money. He could have been trying to get it back.”

“You’re right.” Andrea looked very relieved. “At least we know it wasn’t Danielle. She doesn’t even know about the blackmail, and she’s still in the hospital. And Norman didn’t do it. You gave him his letter, and he wouldn’t have any reason to break into Lucy’s place.”

“Very good.” Hannah was pleased. Andrea was starting to think straight.

“But what about Lucy’s film?” Andrea asked. “Why would Mayor Bascomb, or Claire, or Mr. Avery bother to destroy it? If Lucy was blackmailing them, she had already showed them the prints. They would have been after the negatives.”

Hannah sighed. Perhaps Andrea was thinking a little too straight. But it was a legitimate question, and she had to come up with an answer. “It could have been a new blackmail victim. Lucy might have taken some incriminating pictures last night. The new victim would figure she hadn’t had time to develop her film yet.”

“That makes sense. But what about Lucy?” Andrea looked nervous again. “Why is she missing?”

“You already came up with a theory about that,” Hannah interrupted her, wishing that she didn’t have to walk a tightrope between Andrea’s hysteria on one hand and her logical questions on the other.

“You’re right. I forgot about that. I said that if Lucy discovered that her evidence was missing she’d think the police were after her and might skip town.”

“That’s right. And the theory still fits. If Lucy flew the coop before her apartment was vandalized, she doesn’t even know about it. Let’s concentrate on thinking about where she might have gone.”

Andrea sighed. “That’s going to be hard, Hannah. I don’t even know where Lucy comes from. And I don’t think she has any friends in town. Nobody seems to like her much.”

“Only because she’s rude, nosy, conceited, and she blackmails people. Otherwise, she’s all right.”

Andrea laughed, actually laughed, and Hannah knew that her sister was back on track. Now all she had to do was keep her there.

“Where shall we start, Hannah? You must have some ideas.”

“Of course I do,” Hannah declared, searching her mind for something that Andrea could do. “Why don’t you check Lucy’s closet and see if any of her clothes are missing. She might have packed a bag before she left.”

“That’s a good idea. What are you going to do?”

“I’ll look around in the kitchen and the bathroom.”

“No, don’t do that.” Andrea started to shiver again. “I don’t want to be alone, Hannah. What if it was the killer? He could come back.”

“Why would he? He thinks he destroyed all of Lucy’s evidence. He doesn’t know that we’ve got the film she took of him.”

“That’s right.” An expression of relief replaced the panic that had resurfaced on Andrea’s face. “Go ahead, Hannah. I’ll be all right. What are you going to look for?”

“A clue to Lucy’s whereabouts. It could be a map, a note with an address, anything like that. But we have to hurry, Andrea. Vera’s going to think it’s weird if we’re up here too long.”

“Okay. You have a tape player in your truck, don’t you?”

“Yes. Why?”

“When I’m through with the closet, I’m going to take out Lucy’s answering machine tape. We can listen to it in your truck. Maybe somebody called her back with a reservation number or something and she’d already left.”

“Brilliant.” Hannah rewarded her with a smile, then headed off to search the kitchen and the bathroom. She didn’t think she’d find any clues, but she had to look.

There was nothing in the kitchen except pulled-out drawers and open cupboards. Hannah checked the garbage and found nothing but two tuna cans, a bread wrapper with a stale heel of bread inside, and shards of the plate and coffee cup that Andrea had broken this morning when she’d come in through the kitchen window. The worst-case scenario didn’t occur to her until she’d flicked on the bathroom light and spotted the shower curtain had it been closed this morning? She couldn’t remember, and she certainly didn’t want to ask Andrea. Hannah reached out with shaking fingers, and then hesitated, doing her best not to think about what Anthony Perkins had done to Janet Leigh in Psycho.