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Authors: Joanne Fluke

Wedding Cake Murder (32 page)

BOOK: Wedding Cake Murder
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“Your aunt told you about
that
?”

“Yes, but she’s not our aunt. We call her Aunt Nancy because she’s my partner’s aunt. It just seems to fit her. She’s such a caring, kind-hearted person.”

“She certainly is,” Heiti agreed. “Did Nancy say how very upset she was?”

“Yes,” Michelle replied. “She said you poured her a glass of sherry and asked her to tell you about it.”

“She also said that you were a wonderful listener,” Hannah repeated Aunt Nancy’s words.

Andrea reached out to touch Heiti’s arm. “We’re very glad you comforted her. We’re very fond of Aunt Nancy. And I know you must have been tired from working all day.”

“It
was
a long day,” Heiti admitted, “but I didn’t want Nancy to come home to an empty house. And then, when she was so upset, I stayed for another couple of hours. I remember glancing at the alarm clock when I got home and went to bed, and it was close to three in the morning. And now you know how late I was here on the night Chef Duquesne was murdered.”

Hannah knew she must have looked shocked. She thought they’d been very clever, but Heiti had obviously caught on. “Sorry about that,” she said, wincing slightly. “You see, I’m investigating . . .” Heiti held up his hand in a motion to stop and she did.

“Nancy mentioned that you investigated murders, and the moment you gave me your name, I knew that was why you were here. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been so blunt, but . . .”

“That’s all right,” Hannah interrupted him. “If I’d known that you knew about that, I would have come right out and started to . . .”

“Grill me!” Heiti interrupted, breaking into his wonderfully contagious laugh again. “To be perfectly honest with you, Hannah, I wanted to drive out to the Lake Eden Inn to give that man a piece of my mind. But there was a very good reason why I couldn’t do that.”

“What was the reason?” Andrea asked him.

“I ran out of gas! I had to leave my car by the side of the highway and walk back to my apartment.”

Hannah remembered the car that had been parked in Aunt Nancy’s driveway. “But that’s your car outside, isn’t it?”

“Yes. One of my neighbors gave me a ride to the Quick Stop the next morning. He waited while I bought a gas can, filled it with gas, and then he took me back to my car. He waited until I poured in the gas and started my car before he drove off. I went straight to the Quick Stop to fill the tank. I can give you my neighbor’s name if you want to substantiate what I told you.”

“Thank you, but that’s not necessary,” Hannah said, not mentioning the fact that she was going to check his alibi with Sean and Don at the Quick Stop.

Once Heiti had walked them through the house and showed them all the improvements he’d made, he turned to Andrea. “This house is quite old, but it’s very well built. It reminds me of the house my parents had. They knew how to build back then and they used good materials.” He turned to address Hannah. “Nancy and I will be there to watch you tonight,” Heiti said as he opened the door for them. “Which cookie are you baking?”

“Butterscotch Sugar Cookies,” Hannah told him.

“They sound very good. I’ll be looking forward to watching you tonight.”

Chapter Twenty-two

O
f course they detoured past the Quick Stop on their way back to The Cookie Jar, and Hannah was glad to find out that Sean and Don remembered Heiti and confirmed his alibi. When they got back to The Cookie Jar, Hannah took one look through the front plate-glass window and stopped Michelle and Andrea from entering.

“It’s the noon rush and Lisa’s telling her story again. Let’s go around to the back door and sit in the kitchen. Then Andrea can taste our cookies and tell us what she thinks of them.”

The kitchen coffee pot was on and Michelle filled three cups while Hannah put the cookies on a plate. Then they sat down on the stools that surrounded the stainless-steel work island. But before any of them had even reached for a cookie, there was a knock at the back door.

“Mike?” Michelle guessed, motioning toward the plate of cookies. “He probably smelled them when he was driving by.”

“Coming!” Hannah called out, getting up from her stool, but she took time to answer Michelle’s question. “It’s not Mike. He has a cop’s knock. It’s louder and more authoritative.”

“Norman?” Andrea guessed.

“No. Norman has a nice, masculine knock, but it’s not as demanding as Mike’s. It’s probably Mother. Mother’s knock is softer and more ladylike with an undertone of insistence.”

“What’s my knock like?” Andrea asked.

There was no way that Hannah was going to tell Andrea that her knock was exactly like their mother’s knock. Perhaps Andrea would forget she’d asked, if she delayed her answer.

“I’ll describe it later,” Hannah said. “If I don’t get this, Mother will be in a huff. And there’s no way I want to open the door to Mother in a huff.”

Hannah opened the door and found she was right. It was Delores. “Hello, Mother,” she greeted her. “Come in and join us for coffee and cookies. We just got back here and we’re about to sample the cookies that Michelle and I are baking tonight.”

“Oh, good!” Delores said, as she saw them at the work island. “I’m glad all three of you are here.”

Michelle jumped up to get their mother a cup of coffee, and Hannah waited until they were all seated again. “Why are you glad all three of us are here?”

“Because I brought you this!” Delores reached across the work table to give Hannah a white, official-looking envelope. “It’s a copy of the autopsy report Doc sent to Bill.”

“But I . . .” Andrea stopped speaking as Hannah gave her a look that said,
Don’t steal Mother’s thunder
!

“I know how you feel, Andrea,” Hannah said quickly. “If there are any photos, we won’t show them to you. Right, Mother?”

“Right.” Delores turned to Andrea. “Don’t worry, dear. We all know how squeamish you are about things like that.”

“Thank you,” Andrea said, quickly recovering her poise. “I really don’t know how you do it, Mother.”

“Do what, dear?” Delores asked her.

“Make copies of the autopsy photos.”

“I’m married to a doctor,” Delores explained. “I can’t be delicate about things like that now.”

“Good for you, Mother!” Hannah complimented her, remembering how their mother had refused to even discuss anything she termed
unpleasant
when they were growing up. “Overcoming something like that must have been very difficult.”

“It was a necessity,” Delores said. “There are certain requirements for doctors’ wives, and I intend to fulfill them. And actually, dear, it isn’t that difficult. Doc uses medical terms to describe these matters, and I never ask him what they mean. And as far as those awful autopsy photos are concerned, copying them was quite simple. I flipped them over on the color copier, pressed the button, slipped the copies into the envelope, and returned the photos to the autopsy report without ever actually looking at them.”

“Very clever,” Hannah commented, deliberately avoiding Andrea’s eyes. That was exactly what Andrea had said she’d done when she’d first started scanning the police files in Bill’s briefcase.

“Did Chef Duquesne die the way Hannah thought he did?” Michelle asked.

“Yes, but Doc found something else. He said that he found particles of foreign matter in Chef Duquesne’s body.”

Michelle looked interested. “But you didn’t ask him what that meant because you didn’t want to know in case it was something that might be too . . . uh . . . too . . .”

It was obvious that Michelle was searching for a word that wouldn’t alienate their mother, and Hannah quickly provided it. “Something that might be too
graphic
? Right, Mother?”

“Exactly right, dear. But I know how important this investigation is to you, and I decided that I would set aside my sensibilities for the moment and find out exactly what Doc meant.”

Hannah realized that she was holding her breath and she forced herself to breathe normally. Delores would tell them . . . eventually. But first she wanted to be praised for what she would probably describe as
going the extra mile for a greater caus
e.

“Thank you, Mother,” Hannah said, hoping that she sounded properly grateful.

“Yes, thank you, Mother.” Michelle echoed Hannah’s words. And then she added, “That was very selfless of you.”

“Thank you. As you know, I’m happy to do anything I can for my daughters.”

“Right. Get to the point, Mother. What did Doc tell you?” Andrea was clearly impatient, but after another warning glance from Hannah, she mitigated her words. “I hope that Doc’s explanation wasn’t too unpleasant for you to hear.”

“Actually, it wasn’t unpleasant at all,” Delores answered. “I was expecting something much worse.”

“Thank you for helping us, Mother,” Michelle said. “We do appreciate it.”

Delores paused to take another sip of coffee, and Hannah knew their mother was heightening the suspense. She also knew that Michelle had inherited her acting ability from their mother. If Lisa ever tired of telling murder stories at The Cookie Jar, Delores would be perfectly capable of taking over for her.

“Doc found fibers in Chef Duquesne’s throat. He explained to me that this is not unusual. Most people aspirate their share of foreign material like animal dander, dust, various pollens, and small, airborne particles. Doc says that people don’t even realize they’re inhaling these particles and, usually, it doesn’t bother them to the point where it makes them uncomfortable.”

Almost in tandem, both Hannah and Michelle cleared their throats. Inhaling any amount of foreign matter was not a comforting thought. “So which airborne particles did Doc find?” Hannah managed to ask.

“He recovered some lint.”

“Do you mean lint like the kind that’s found in a clothes dryer?” Andrea asked.

“No, dear. This lint was from a dishtowel. It was just a couple of miniscule threads. And Doc told me that a dishtowel was found on the floor of the walk-in cooler.”

“Did Chef Duquesne carry it into the cooler with him?” Michelle asked.

“Perhaps he did. The police found it and sent it to their crime lab for analysis, but there didn’t appear to be any blood spots or foreign material on it.”

“Chef Duquesne was stabbed with the knife he was using to cut Hannah’s wedding cake,” Michelle recounted. “He could have carried the dish towel in there to wipe off the knife.”

“That’s possible, too,” Delores agreed. “But that’s not the interesting part.”

Hannah leaned forward and attempted to curb her impatience. “Please tell us the interesting part, Mother.”

“Of course, dear. But first, I have a little favor to ask of you, Hannah.”

Delores smiled. It was a smug smile, the smile of someone who knew an important secret that they didn’t know. Hannah had the urge to grab her mother and shake the information out of her, but of course she didn’t. Her mother had her over a barrel and there wasn’t any way out of it. “What’s the little favor, Mother?”

“I need you to write a short biography for your wedding page.”


What
wedding page?”

“The one that Tracey and I started for you. It was her idea. She’s very technologically-minded, you know, especially for a second-grader. But then, I guess all the children are like that now.”

“Who’s going to look at this wedding page?” Hannah asked.

“All the guests we invited to the wedding. There’s a section for your biography, and Ross’s biography, and there’s also a section for your gift registry. Ross has already agreed to write his biography for me.”

Hannah sighed and caved in. It was the only way that Delores would tell them what Doc had discovered. “What sorts of things do you want me to write?”

“Just tell us how you met Ross and when he proposed to you, and when you accepted. That’s about all. You’ll do it, won’t you, dear?”

“Yes, Mother. Now please tell us what . . .”

“There’s one other thing, dear,” Delores interrupted her.

Hannah rolled her eyes heavenward. Was there no end to this? “What’s the other thing, Mother?”

“I need you to fill out your gift registry. All you have to do is go out to some of the stores in the Tri-County Mall and choose the things you’d like people to give you as wedding presents. Then Tracey and I will go out to the mall and sign you up at the stores you’ve chosen. That way, when someone chooses a gift from the list, the store will put a little tag on it saying it’s already been purchased and you won’t get a dozen toasters, or whatever.”

“No!” Hannah was very firm. “I refuse to tell people what to give me for a gift and where to buy it. These are people from Lake Eden. If they want to give me a gift, they already know where to buy it. I run a business, Mother. I’m not going to choose one store over another store. That would be bad for my business. If I told people to go out to the mall for a toaster . . . and by the way, I don’t
need
a toaster because I already
have
a perfectly good toaster . . . I’d be taking business away from Lake Eden Hardware. If you want to put something on that gift page for me,
you
have to choose it.”

Delores looked completely shocked. “You want
me
to choose your wedding gifts?”

“Not exactly. It’s fine if you suggest things, but please make it clear that you are the one who’s suggesting. And I want you to put a line on that page that says something like,
Hannah says the best gift you can give her for her wedding is to come and celebrate this wonderful occasion with her.
Will you agree to those conditions, Mother?”

“Of course I will, dear! Everybody knows what a . . . generous and caring girl you are and they’ll understand that you don’t want to come right out and ask for anything. Besides, they’ll have
my
suggestions to guide them.”

What have you done?!
Hannah’s mind shouted, but she ignored it. She’d done what she had to do. “Now please tell us what Doc told you, Mother.”

“Of course I will, dear. The interesting part is that Doc also recovered a small piece of hair lodged in Chef Duquesne’s throat.”

BOOK: Wedding Cake Murder
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