Red Velvet Cupcake Murder (6 page)

“What
is
it?” Delores gasped.

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.” Before she had even finished her sentence, Hannah was on her feet racing to the windows to look. The sight that greeted her was strange to say the least.

Butterflies flitted between two bushes in the rose garden. It took a moment of disbelief before Hannah realized that they weren’t real butterflies. They were embroidered butterflies on a black background and Hannah swallowed hard.

“What
is
it?” Delores asked again, coming up to the window behind her.

“I’m not sure, but . . .” Hannah stopped speaking, more certain than she wanted to admit. The butterflies were on a piece of material from a skirt she’d admired only minutes ago. And the broken string of amber beads glittering in the lights from the baby spots trained on the rose garden was equally familiar. The owner of the skirt and the beads was face-down on the ground at the base of one of the rose bushes.

“What
is
it?” Delores asked for the third time. “I can’t see past you. Tell me what’s going on!”

Hannah moved slightly to the side. Then she drew a deep, steadying breath. “It’s Barbara Donnelly. I think she fell off the roof from the edge of the penthouse garden.”

“Oh, no!” Delores moved closer to peer past Hannah’s shoulder. “Barbara said she wanted to try to spot her house from up there. Can you see her? Is she . . . alive?”

“I don’t know,” Hannah replied with a heavy heart. “All I know is Barbara is face down right next to a rose bush. And she’s not moving at all.”

T
hey all stood by anxiously as Doc Knight bent over Barbara’s still form. They couldn’t see exactly what he was doing because Herb had marshaled the six employees of Cupcake Security and they’d formed a circle around Barbara’s body. The boys were facing out, holding hands to form a protective barrier, and they looked every bit as anxious as Hannah felt. Herb was standing guard at the entrance to the rose garden to make sure that no one who wasn’t a medic or a police officer gained access to the scene.

Delores, who was standing next to Hannah, gave a little shiver. “Do you think Barbara went too close to the edge and fell?”

“I don’t know,” Andrea answered her. “It seems really unlikely that Barbara would be that foolish. I told her about the barricades and why they were there. I can’t believe she’d actually move them.”

Delores didn’t look convinced. “Maybe somebody else did. And when Barbara went up there, she simply walked into that area, thinking that it was okay. Maybe she didn’t even go all the way to the edge, but the height made her so dizzy, she stumbled and . . .”

“It couldn’t have happened that way,” Andrea interrupted her mother. “For one thing, Barbara wasn’t afraid of heights and they didn’t make her dizzy. She was the one who always climbed the ladder to put crepe paper streamers on the ceiling for birthdays at the sheriff’s department.”

“Then how did she fall?” Delores asked.

Hannah looked just as puzzled as Andrea and Delores. “None of this makes sense,” she said. “The only thing we know for sure is that something happened up there in the rooftop garden. And maybe we’ll never know what it was if Barbara ends up . . .”

“She’s not!” Andrea interrupted her. “I’m sure I just saw her leg move.”

Delores drew a relieved breath. “And Doc’s still bending over her with his stethoscope. That means he’s still checking her vital signs. He wouldn’t be doing that if there weren’t any.”

There was a faint wail of an ambulance siren in the distance and all three women drew breaths of relief. Someone had called for the paramedics and that meant there was hope.

“Where did Bill go?” Andrea asked, noticing that her husband had left the scene.

“Mike’s gone, too,” Delores noted.

“They’re probably up in the penthouse garden, searching for evidence,” Hannah guessed. “I can almost guarantee you that they’re going to treat the whole penthouse floor as a crime scene unless they learn something that proves it’s not.”

“They’re loading Barbara on a gurney now,” Delores pointed out, gazing through the window. “Thank goodness they’re not using a backboard. That means her back isn’t broken.”

“And she’s not on oxygen so at least she’s breathing all right,” Andrea added. “I’m going to see if I can find Lonnie and Rick. I saw them around here a couple of minutes ago. Maybe they’ll tell me something.”

 

After the ambulance pulled away carrying Barbara, the party began to break up. Lisa packed the remainder of their cupcakes in a box and brought them to the table where Hannah was sitting with Norman and Delores.

“What shall I do with these?” she asked Hannah.

“Give them to Roger. He paid for them. And if he doesn’t want them, take them back to the coffee shop. I think they’ll freeze and we can donate them to the next charity event.”

“Do you need a ride home?” Norman asked Delores.

“No, but thank you, dear. I drove and I’m going to run out to the hospital to see if I can find out more about Barbara’s condition.”

“Will you call me and let me know?” Hannah asked her.

“Of course I will.” Delores pushed back her chair and stood up. “How late will you be awake?”

“Late. And if I’m asleep the answer phone will get it and I’ll play your message in the morning.”

“Do you want to wait for Andrea?” Norman asked her after Delores had left.

“Not really. I think I just want to go home and cuddle up with Moishe on the couch.”

“How about me?”

Hannah gave him a grin. “Sure. You can cuddle up with Moishe, too.”

“That’s not exactly what I meant.”

“I know,” Hannah told him. And then she smiled.

 

Morning came early, much too early to suit Hannah. When the sky began to lighten slightly outside her bedroom window, her eyes fluttered open. It took her a moment, but then she remembered that it was Sunday, the one day of the week when she didn’t have to go to work. If she wanted, and she
did
want, she could roll over, pull the blanket back up, and go back to sleep. She was in the process of doing just that when the phone on her bedside table rang.

Out of pure instinct Hannah reached out to answer it. “Hello,” she said groggily.

“Hannah!”

The voice was weak, but Hannah recognized it immediately. She’d heard it only last night. “Barbara?”

“Yes. Come see me, Hannah. I need you.”

For one brief moment, Hannah thought she’d fallen asleep again and the phone conversation was a dream. She blinked several times and sat up in bed, pinching herself to make sure that she was awake. “Are you all right, Barbara?”

“He tried to kill me!”

“Who?”

But there was no answer except a soft click. “Barbara? Are you still there?” Hannah felt a moment’s panic. “Talk to me.”

But it was too late. The phone line was dead, leaving Hannah wide awake and shaking. Unless someone was playing a very cruel joke, Barbara was alive and she’d just said that someone had tried to murder her!

It didn’t take a genius to realize that there would be no further sleep for her this morning. Hannah reached for her slippers and pulled them on. Had the telephone actually rung? Had she actually heard Barbara’s voice say that someone had tried to kill her? Or had she only dreamed the whole thing?

“Did the phone ring?” she asked Moishe, who was stretched out on his feather pillow, staring at her. But Moishe was no help as a reality check. His expression remained perfectly neutral.

Hannah glanced over at the phone. It had been centered on her night table when she’d gone to bed, but now it was crooked. She’d reached for it at some point during the night, but had she actually answered it? And had she really talked to Barbara?

As she pondered the question, a dreadful possibility occurred to her. Her Great-Grandma Elsa used to say that people who knew they were going to die and had something important they needed to say, sometimes hung on to life just long enough to say it. Had Barbara called Hannah because she needed to say that it was no accident, that someone had tried to kill her by pushing her off the roof to the garden below? And had she died before she could say who’d pushed her?

Hannah knew that there was only one way to find out. She had to call the hospital. But hospitals didn’t give out that kind of information over the phone. She had to figure out a way to trick whoever answered into telling her if Barbara was still alive.

Her mind wasn’t working well yet, and Hannah knew it. What she needed was a mug of strong Swedish Plasma. Of course the coffee wasn’t ready. She hadn’t bothered to set the timer last night since she’d planned on sleeping late.

Uncertain whether she could do something as complicated as making coffee without having coffee first, Hannah padded down the carpeted hallway to the kitchen. When she got there she flicked on the bank of excruciatingly bright fluorescent lights and somehow managed to fill the basket of the coffee maker with coffee, pour in the water, and turn it on manually.

Perhaps she dozed a bit while she sat at the kitchen table waiting for the life-giving brew to be ready. She just wasn’t sure, but her neck felt a bit stiff when she glanced up at the clock. Fifteen minutes had passed. A second glance, this one at the coffee pot, confirmed that the green light was on. The world simply did not work right without coffee and now she could have it.

The promise of fresh coffee lured her to her feet and moments later, she was back at the table with a full mug of the magic elixir that transformed her from a zombie into a human being. She took one sip, then another and another, draining half the mug before she reached for the phone to dial the hospital.

She got the nurse at the front desk, someone who identified herself as Margie. Hannah didn’t know the night personnel and that was good. At least Margie wouldn’t recognize Hannah’s voice. “I’m calling to check on Barbara Donnelly,” Hannah told her. “She was admitted last night.”

“I’m sorry, but we’re not allowed to give out any information over the phone unless you’re a family member.”

Hannah thought fast. “I’m Barbara’s sister and I just had a terrible nightmare about her. She didn’t . . .
die
, did she?”

“Good heavens, no! Her nurse just walked past here and she said Miss Donnelly was sleeping. I’m sorry you had that dream. It’s probably because you’re worried about her.”

The nurse sounded very sympathetic and Hannah decided to press her luck. “Could you tell me her condition?”

Hannah could hear the nurse typing something in on a keyboard. “She’s stable, but guarded. If you’d like more detailed information, just call back when Doctor Knight comes in.”

“When will that be?”

“By ten at the latest. Would you like me to leave a note for him to call you?”

Hannah was about to say yes when she realized that then she’d have to give her name. Since she’d lied by claiming to be Barbara’s sister, it was best to remain anonymous. “That’s all right. I’ll call back later. I’d like to come in to see Barbara if she can have visitors.”

“Just a moment. I’ll check.” Hannah heard the nurse type in something else on the keyboard. “Yes, but only two at a time. Our new visiting hours are from two to five in the afternoon, and seven to nine at night. Of course they don’t apply to you since you’re her sister. Family members are encouraged to visit any time from nine in the morning to ten at night.”

“Thank you,” Hannah said. “And thanks for relieving my mind about Barbara.” Hannah hung up before the nurse could ask her name. What she’d said was true. She was extremely relieved. So much for Great-Grandma Elsa’s theory, at least in Barbara’s case!

When she glanced up at the clock Hannah realized that it was only ten to six, much too early to drive out to the hospital, and also too early to call anyone else who might know Barbara’s condition. She wished she knew the extent of Barbara’s injuries, but there was no one she could ask at this hour of the morning. And now that she’d had her first mug of the coffee that made her world work right, she was wide awake and ready for action.

She needed to bake cookies to take to Barbara. Hannah was up and moving the second she thought of it. If Barbara couldn’t have cookies for some reason, the nurses could. She’d mix up some Pink Lemonade Cookies. They were pretty and festive. Not only that, they were absolutely delicious.

Between sips of a second mug of coffee, she managed to gather the ingredients and start to mix up the dough. As she turned on the mixer to beat the butter with the sugar, she thought about Barbara and who might have pushed her to what could have been her death.

Barbara was single. As far as Hannah knew, she’d never been married, but she’d check with her mother about that. She’d also ask if Barbara had been involved in any serious relationships that might have ended badly. Since Delores was a founding member of what Hannah called the Lake Eden Gossip Hotline, she could easily find the answers to any questions Hannah had about her brother-in-law’s secretary.

When the butter and sugar mixture was nice and fluffy, Hannah added the baking powder and baking soda to her bowl. After that was incorporated, she added the egg and then the frozen lemonade concentrate that had been thawing on the counter. The rest of the concentrate certainly wouldn’t go to waste! She’d add the required amount of water, stir it up in a pitcher, and refrigerate it to have as a special treat while she watched television tonight.

While the stand mixer hummed on low speed and the beaters revolved endlessly, Hannah looked for the red food coloring. Ever since Lisa had discovered that the new red food color gel didn’t stain her fingers the way the liquid food coloring did, they’d stocked it in the pantry of The Cookie Jar. Unfortunately, they’d gone through every tube they had making the cupcakes for the party last night. Hannah rummaged through her pantry and found a package of the liquid type she’d had for practically forever, and squirted three drops of red into the dough to color it.

As the color blended in to make a lovely pink, Hannah tossed the bottle of red food coloring into the trash. It was empty, but the other three colors in the package were practically full. Did anyone actually use up another color first?

“It’s done,” she told the cat, who was waiting to see if she’d spill anything interesting. “I suppose you want a treat for not jumping up on the counter.”

Moishe blinked once and then he let out a yowl. If there was one word he knew, it was
treat
.

“Okay then.” Hannah struggled for a moment, unlatching the childproof fastener on the cupboard door. All the cupboards had fasteners like that and she really ought to take them off. She’d spent most of a Sunday installing them right after the first time that Moishe had helped himself to his own kitty treats. Moishe had watched her install them and the moment she was through, he’d jumped up on the counter and promptly unfastened one.

She found the can of salmon-flavored, fish-shaped treats and tossed him one. “That’s it,” she said. “If you’re good, you can have another when I put the first cookie sheet into the oven.”

Hannah tossed one more salmon-flavored treat into Moishe’s bowl and watched him dive in after it. Then she turned back to her cookie dough. The first time they’d tried to bake Pink Lemonade Cookies at The Cookie Jar, they’d discovered that the dough was a bit sticky and they’d simply refrigerated it until the next morning. Now Hannah decided to try another trick she’d learned. She was using a two-teaspoon scooper to scoop up the dough and transfer it to her cookie sheet. She ran a glass of water, placed the scooper in the glass to wet it, shook off the water and then attempted to form the cookies that way. It worked like a charm. Every time the dough began to stick to the scooper, she dipped it in the water again. Once the cookies were in the oven, she sat down at the kitchen table with a fresh cup of coffee to think about Barbara again.