Red Velvet Cupcake Murder (8 page)

“If someone did try to kill her and didn’t succeed, they might try again,” Hannah voiced her concern. “Do you think Barbara is in any danger at the hospital?”

“I don’t know. We don’t have enough officers to put a round-the-clock guard on her, but I talked to Doc and he’s already assigned three shifts of nurses for her. And I really don’t think anybody will be brazen enough to try to finish the job while she’s in the hospital.”

Hannah remembered how much danger Freddy Sawyer had been in when he was confined to a hospital bed.

“Let’s not put the cart before the horse. We don’t even know, for sure, that somebody
did
try to kill Barbara.”

“True,” Hannah said, realizing that he was right, but not believing that for a second.

“Y
ou’re looking good, Barbara,” Hannah said, even though it wasn’t true. Barbara’s face was puffy and bruised, her left leg was obviously injured in some way because it was elevated in a sling that hung from the ceiling, and both of her arms were heavily bandaged.

Barbara smiled through caked lips, showing several gaps where teeth had been less than twenty-four hours ago. “Thank you. I feel better. Is my father here?”

Hannah exchanged glances with her mother, who’d come along on the visit. Both of them knew that Barbara’s father had died years ago when Barbara was still in school.

“Is he here? I have to know!”

Barbara sounded desperate and Hannah wasn’t sure what to say. Thankfully, Delores leaned closer to cover Barbara’s hands with her own. “Barbara, dear,” she said, giving Barbara’s hand a comforting pat. “I’m sorry, Barbara, but your father’s not here. He can’t come to see you, dear. Don’t you remember? He died.”

“Oh, no! That’s . . . that’s awful!” Barbara’s words were slurred, something Doc Knight had warned them about. He’d said that when Barbara became upset, her ability to speak deteriorated. He’d also told them that if she asked any questions, they should answer them honestly. And that was precisely what Delores had done.

“Don’t think about it now,” Delores urged in an effort to calm Barbara, who was clearly agitated. “Thinking about sad things too much won’t do any good and it will only upset you.”

Barbara was silent for a moment and then she tried to nod. It must have hurt to move her head, because an expression of pain flickered across her face. “You’re right,” she said. “What was your name again?”

“It’s Delores.”

“Oh, yes.” She turned to look at Hannah. “And you are . . . the daughter.”

“Yes, I’m Delores’s daughter,” Hannah replied, thankful that Doc Knight had mentioned the swelling in Barbara’s brain and how it had affected her ability to remember proper names. “My name is Hannah.”

“Yes. Hannah. I’ll try to remember. It’s just so sad about my father. I only got to know him for a little while. And I really wanted to see him again.”

She’s cuckoo bananas!
the outspoken part of Hannah’s mind commented.

Be quiet and show a little sympathy!
Hannah responded in an internal dialogue.
Barbara has a head injury. Doc Knight warned us that she might say some bizarre things.

Hannah checked the time on her waterproof watch. She’d ruined several previous watches by forgetting to remove them before rinsing out mixing bowls at The Cookie Jar. They had already been here for three minutes. Doc Knight had placed a five-minute limit on their visit and it was time to ask the important questions before Barbara’s nurse came to get them and escort them out.

“Do you remember calling me early this morning?” Hannah asked, getting right to the heart of the matter.

Barbara looked as surprised as anyone with facial swelling, scrapes, and bruises could look. “I called you?”

“You did. You called at a little after four.”

“Are you sure?”

“It sounded like you on the phone. And when I asked if it was Barbara, you said yes.”

“It must have been me then. But I . . .” Barbara stopped and took a quick breath. “I don’t remember calling you.”

Hannah gave Barbara a moment to compose herself. It was apparent that she was becoming agitated again. While she was waiting, Hannah glanced at the phone sitting on top of the stand sitting next to Barbara’s hospital bed. It was definitely within Barbara’s reach. Doc Knight had told them that Barbara had trouble remembering things, but that he was hopeful her memory would improve once the swelling in her brain went down.

“Why did I call you? What did I say?”

She sounded much calmer and Hannah knew it was time to ask the question that would upset Barbara the most. “You said that your fall wasn’t an accident, that someone tried to kill you.”

“Someone tried to kill me,” Barbara said, and Hannah wasn’t sure if she was simply repeating the accusation in surprise, or whether she was confirming it. “I wonder who it was.”

Hannah and Delores exchanged glances again. This conversation was becoming very strange.

“I have to think,” Barbara said and then there was a long moment of silence. The only sounds in the room were the hum of Barbara’s IV and the soft beeping of the various pieces of electronic monitoring equipment that were arranged around Barbara’s bed. Finally, when the waiting had become almost unbearable, Delores cleared her throat.

“
Did
someone try to kill you, Barbara?” she asked.

Barbara hesitated for a moment, as if she was reluctant to say. The pain lines around her mouth whitened and drew taut when she finally dipped her head. “Someone tried to kill me.”

This time it was definitely a confirmation. And that meant the most important question had to come next.

“Who was it?” Hannah asked her.

Barbara gave a sigh that sounded so heartbroken that tears formed in Hannah’s eyes. But she couldn’t stop now. Barbara had admitted that someone had attempted to kill her. “Who tried to kill you, Barbara? I need to know.”

“
He
did,” Barbara answered in a shaking voice. “I . . . I never thought he’d do something like that. I . . . I wanted him to love me.”

“I need to know his name,” Hannah pressed on, even though Barbara was visibly agitated. “You have to tell me, Barbara.”

Barbara took a deep breath that must have been painful because she gave a little moan. “I remember now,” she said at last. “My
brother
tried to kill me!”

 

“Barbara doesn’t have a brother,” Delores told her as they walked down the hallway toward Doc Knight’s office. Today she was wearing her bright yellow blazer and she gleamed like a ray of sunshine against the pale green walls.

“Could he be dead like her father? Barbara said she wanted to see him again and he’s dead. Maybe she thought she was dying and she was going to see them in the hereafter.”

Delores considered it for a moment. “That might be what she thought when she mentioned her father, but I know for a fact that Barbara’s mother had only one child and that child was Barbara. I’m almost sure I heard your grandmother say that there were complications when Barbara was born and Mrs. Donnelly couldn’t have any more children.”

“Did she have a hysterectomy?” Hannah mentioned the first thing that occurred to her.

“I have no idea. That was years ago, when I was a child. Adults didn’t discuss anything like that in front of children. The only reason I remember as much as I do is that your grandmother shushed my mother and pointed to me. And then she said something about little pitchers.”

“Little pitchers have big ears?” Hannah guessed.

“That’s it. And since they’d said the same thing when they were discussing Christmas presents, I knew that meant whatever they’d said was important.”

“Would Doc Knight know for sure?”

“I think so, dear. When he came to town to take over the practice, all the old charts were stored in a back room. He probably still has them in storage somewhere.”

“Could you check on that? I need to make sure that Barbara never had a brother.”

“I understand, dear. And of course I can check. I’ll ask Doc just as soon as he comes back to his office.”

“Thanks, Mother.” Hannah waved at Norman’s mother, Carrie, who was pushing a cart down the hallway toward them. Carrie, like Delores, was also wearing black pants, but her blazer was bright turquoise. Hannah’s neighbor, Marguerite Hollenbeck, was walking at the side of the cart and her blazer was bright pink. It was part of the Rainbow Ladies’ attire. When Delores had agreed to take over as leader of the Grey Ladies, she’d immediately given the volunteer organization a new name and a new cheerful look.

“What’s on the cart?” Delores asked as they approached.

“Milk and cookies,” Carrie answered her.

“What kind of cookies?” Hannah asked.

“Store-bought chocolate-covered graham crackers,” Marguerite told her. “The children just love those. We’re taking them down to the family waiting room.”

Once they’d passed, Hannah turned to her mother. The fact that there had been cookies on the tray had reminded her of the cookies that were still sitting in the back of her truck.

“I baked some cookies for Barbara, but when I found out she was on a liquid diet, I left them in my truck. Do you think the nurses would like some Tickled Pink Lemonade Cookies?”

Delores gave her a look of pure disbelief. “Of
course
the nurses would like them. Anybody who’s ever tasted them likes them. They’re very good cookies, dear.”

“Great. If I put them on a platter and bring them back here to you, will you pass them around?”

“I’ll be glad to as long as I can keep some for Doc.” Delores thought about what she had said for a second and then she added, “And for me.”

“Of course. That goes without saying. I’ll go out and get them right now.”

“I’ll go with you. That way you don’t have to come all the way back inside.”

Once the cookies were plated and the platter had been covered with plastic wrap, Hannah told her mother goodbye and climbed into the driver’s seat of her cookie truck. She was about to start the engine and back out of her parking space when Norman pulled in next to her. Hannah wasted no time lowering her window and he lowered his at the same time. “Hi, Norman,” she greeted him.

“Hello, Hannah. What are you doing here?”

“Visiting Barbara. Is that where you’re going?”

“Yes, but it’s an official visit. Doc Knight called me in to consult about her broken teeth.”

Hannah thought fast. She wanted to learn Norman’s assessment of Barbara’s condition and it would be easier to ask him questions in person than on the phone. She also wanted to find out whether Doctor Bev had contacted him and that would take a little finesse on her part. But those weren’t the only two reasons. The third reason was purely personal and had to do only with the two of them. They’d both been busy in the past few weeks and their time together had been limited by other obligations. Tonight was a free night for her. She had absolutely nothing to do. And since she had enjoyed his company so much last night, she wanted to spend more time with him.

“Would you like to come out to my place for an early dinner?” she asked.

“That sounds good to me. What time?”

“Six o’clock?”

“That should work. Can I bring anything?”

“Yes, bring Cuddles.”

Norman smiled when she mentioned his cat. “I’ll be glad to bring Cuddles, but I was talking about bringing something for dinner.”

“Thanks, but I can’t think of anything I need,” Hannah said, not bothering to say that she didn’t have any idea what she was going to serve.

Once Norman had gone inside, Hannah backed out of her spot and exited the parking lot. She was so busy trying to think of a meal they’d both enjoy that she almost turned left and took the scenic route around Eden Lake instead of turning right on the shorter route to town.

Before she made the turn, Hannah glanced at her watch. Thanks to Florence’s new hours at the Red Owl, she had plenty of time to shop. Florence had announced her new weekend hours in the
Lake Eden Journal
this week. Instead of selling groceries all day on Saturday, she would only be open from noon to six. And although the store had always been closed on Sundays, there would now be a short shopping window from noon to four.

The new hours suited Hannah just fine. She often had company on Sunday nights and she wasn’t a very good advance planner. There were staples in her pantry. Every Minnesota cook had them in case of blizzards in the winter, summer rainstorms, or car troubles at any time of year. Hannah had enough stock in the pantry to live on for several weeks, but not everything there was something she’d choose to serve to company. She knew that Norman would be happy to share a can of pork and beans with her, but she wanted to cook something special. When she got to the store, perhaps she’d ask Florence for ideas.

Ten minutes later, Hannah was standing in front of the meat counter facing Florence, who was wearing her butcher whites.

“What’ll it be, Hannah?” Florence asked.

“I don’t know. I was hoping you could give me some advice. I invited Norman over for dinner tonight and I don’t have the foggiest idea what I’m going to serve.”

“Chicken Tetrazzini Hotdish.”

The response was so immediate, Hannah was surprised. It was almost as if Florence had been hoping she’d ask that very question. “Chicken Tetrazzini Hotdish? I’ve never heard of it.”

“That’s because I just made it two nights ago. It’s from my cousin, Marci Watts, and she’s a really good cook. That hotdish was so good, I decided to give you the recipe the next time I saw you.”

Florence handed her a recipe card and Hannah looked it over. It looked easy and it also looked delicious. “Perfect. It’s exactly what I’ll make. Do you have any cooked, cubed chicken?”

“Sorry. You’ll have to cook and cube it yourself. But I do have some boneless, skinless chicken breasts. Just put salt on them, put them in a greased pan, and cover the pan with foil. Forty-five minutes at three-fifty ought to do it. That’s how I cooked mine.”

“Great. How many did you use?”

“I used four, but I’ll give you five. That way you can bake one for Moishe.”

“For Moishe
and
Cuddles. Norman’s bringing her over for dinner.”

“I’ll wrap the chicken while you shop. What else are you going to serve?”

Hannah glanced down at the recipe again. “There aren’t really any vegetables in this, so I’ll put together a nice garden salad.”

“A salad’s always good. Throw in some butter lettuce. This batch is better than the iceberg. And get some of those little grape tomatoes. They’re tangy and sweet. How about dessert?”