Carrot Cake Murder (27 page)

“I will be. Where’s your cell phone?”

Hannah got her purse and rummaged around until she found her cell phone in the bottom. “Here it is,” she announced, handing it to him.

“The battery’s low,” Norman said, turning it on and pressing some buttons that emitted squeaky sounds.

“Moishe likes those sounds,” Hannah said, noticing that her cat had perked up his ears. “It probably sounds like a mouse symphony to him.”

Norman laughed as he shut the phone and handed it to her. “Put it on the charger tonight, and don’t forget to take it with you tomorrow. I’ll call you when I get to Atlantic City, but you have to remember to turn your cell phone on so it’ll ring.”

“I will. I’ll charge it up the second you leave, and I’ll take it with me when I go to work tomorrow. And I’ll turn it on and leave it on in my purse.”

“Good. Don’t forget. And be careful, Hannah.”

“I will be.”

“Do you promise?”

Hannah smiled. Norman really did care about her. “I promise,” she gave her word.

“If you figure out who killed Gus before I get back, don’t take any chances. And whatever you do, don’t go after his killer alone. Call Mike and make sure he’s got your back.”

“Okay.”

“Do you promise, Hannah?”

It was a much harder promise, but Hannah could see how much it meant to him. “I promise, Norman,” she said.

The coffee was on, Moishe’s food and water bowls were filled, and she’d checked to make sure the little locks that Bill had installed on every window were engaged. All she had to do was wash her face, brush her teeth, put on the oversized T-shirt she used for a nightgown in the summer, and crawl under the covers.

“Come on, Moishe,” Hannah said, picking him up from his perch on the penthouse floor of his Kitty Kondo. “It’s getting late, and I really need to…”

She was interrupted by a knock on the door, three sharp raps that she thought she recognized. A second later, there was a second series of similar raps.

“…answer the door,” Hannah finished her sentence, and put Moishe back on the penthouse floor. “Who’s there?” she called out, even though she thought she knew.

“It’s Mike. I need to talk to you. You’re still up, aren’t you?”

No, I’m sound asleep! Hannah felt like saying, but of course she didn’t. What she said was, “I’m up. Hold on a second, and I’ll get the door.”

“Thanks, Hannah.” Mike stepped into her living room. “I figured you were still up. I saw Norman driving out.”

“Did you talk to him?” Hannah asked, hoping that he’d say no. Norman was a law-abiding citizen. If Mike had asked him where he was going, Norman would have told him.

“I just waved. I was in a hurry to get over here.”

“Is there a break in the case?” Hannah asked, sending up silent thanks to her lucky stars that Mike had been in a hurry.

“Nothing new.” Mike did a double take as he saw what was on the wall by her desk. “What’s that?”

“Moishe’s new Kitty Kondo activity center. Norman installed it yesterday.” Hannah stopped and thought fast. She didn’t want to make Mike feel bad for not thinking of getting one for Moishe. “Thanks to the Animal Channel number you gave me, and his new activity center, Moishe’s not destroying things anymore.”

“Great! I’ve got something for him in the cruiser. I’ll go down and haul it up here before I leave. I just stopped by to ask you if you learned anything I should know about.”

“Actually…yes,” Hannah said, leading him over to the couch. And then, because she was a good hostess, she asked, “Coffee?”

“Thanks, but I’m all coffeed out. I think it’s because I’ve been drinking the swill at the station. But I wouldn’t mind something sweet if you’ve got it.”

“I’ve got it. I baked almond cake tonight. How about a slice with a glass of milk?”

“Sounds great!”

“Make yourself comfortable and I’ll get it.” Hannah made a quick trip to the kitchen. When she came back, Mike was sitting on the couch with Moishe in his lap.

“Here you go,” she said, setting the cake and the milk on the coffee table. “Try the cake and see how you like it.”

Mike took a bite and nodded. “I like it a lot, unless you’ve been watching Arsenic And Old Lace.”

“I haven’t seen it for years, and my almonds aren’t bitter,” Hannah said, referring to the fact that arsenic tasted like bitter almonds. “How did they discover that, anyway?”

“You mean about the bitter almonds?”

“Yes. You can’t ask dead people how the poison that killed them tasted.”

Mike threw back his head and laughed. “You’re right. Somebody must have tasted it without swallowing. Or reported the taste before they died.”

“Gruesome. And that reminds me, did Doc Knight run a tox screen on Gus Klein?”

“Yes. It’s standard operating procedure.”

“Did he happen to find any traces of amphetamine?”

“Why do you want to know that?”

Hannah sighed. Mike wasn’t being very cooperative. “I saw Gus take a green-and-white capsule at the dance. When I asked him if he should mix alcohol and medicine, he said it was an over-the-counter antacid.”

“And you didn’t believe him?”

“I believed him at the time. But then I started thinking about it, so I described it to Jon Walker and asked him what it could have been.”

“And he told you it could have been an amphetamine?”

“Yes.”

“Jon’s right. It was an amphetamine. It showed up on the tox screen.”

Hannah felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. “When did the tox screen come in?”

“With the autopsy. Doc put a rush on it, and I had it first thing Tuesday morning.”

“But I saw you late Tuesday morning at The Cookie Jar! Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

“Because it’s an official document. It’s against regulations for me to share official reports and documents with you.”

“So there are things you’re not telling me?” Hannah asked him, feeling betrayed.

“A few, yes, but only if they’re something confidential that only authorized personnel can know. Besides…the amphetamines didn’t kill him. He was stabbed with an ice pick or similar object.”

The lightbulb of suspicion that had been flickering in Hannah’s mind ever since she’d talked to her sisters about sharing information with Mike turned into a steadily glowing globe. She knew the truth now. Mike was holding out on her. Perhaps he didn’t mean to. She’d give him the benefit of the doubt. He might truly believe that he was honoring the pact they’d made.

“What about the suitcase on the bed?” she asked. “Were there any more pills in it?”

“Come on, Hannah.” Mike gave a weary sigh. “The suitcase is in the evidence room.”

“And only authorized personnel can know what’s in it?”

“That’s right. Some of the contents could be important during the trial.”

“What trial? You haven’t arrested anyone yet.”

“No, but we will. And there’s no way I want the killer to walk on a technicality because I’ve been careless with the evidence.”

“I understand,” Hannah said, and she did. Mike had never said much about it, but Hannah knew that the gang member who’d shot and killed Mike’s wife when she was pregnant with their first child had gotten off on a technicality. Bill had told her all about it. It was one of the reasons Mike was so determined to follow police procedure to the letter. No criminal he caught was going to walk free on a technicality if he could help it.

“I’ll tell you what I can, Hannah. You know I will.”

“I know.” Hannah knew that Mike was sharing some information with her. But the information she would get from him wouldn’t be critical to the case. He was treating her like an outsider, not a member of his team. And while he might honestly want things to be different, they wouldn’t be.

“What’s the matter?” Mike asked, frowning slightly.

Nothing that you’d understand, Hannah almost said, but she bit the words back. It was silly of her to be disappointed. She should have known all along that Mike’s two-way street was really one-way. He might want to break the rules for her, but he wouldn’t.

“Hannah? What’s wrong?” Mike asked again.

“I’m just tired,” Hannah said, uttering the first thing that popped into her head.

“I’d better go, then. Lock the door behind me, and I’ll run down and get that present for Moishe I told you about. I’ll knock when I come back up.”

Hannah waited, her eye to the peephole. She was expecting to see a distorted image of Mike as he came up the stairs, but instead she saw something huge, bright pink, and fuzzy.

“Okay, Hannah. It’s me.”

The huge, pink, fuzzy object had Mike’s voice, so Hannah opened the door. And then she started to laugh as she saw what he was carrying.

“It’s a flamingo,” Mike explained unnecessarily. “Didn’t you tell me that Moishe liked flamingos?”

“I probably did. He loves to watch them on the Animal Channel. How big is that thing, anyway?”

“It’s taller than I am, so it’s six and a half feet, at least. And its name is Fred. Where do you want it?”

“Right there,” Hannah said, pointing at the corner by the couch. “Will Fred fit there?”

“Sure, if we fold his wing in a little.” Mike did just that as Hannah watched. “Too bad Fred doesn’t have a tray in its beak, or something. You could use him as a couch table.”

Just what I need. A six-and-a-half-foot table shaped like a flamingo, Hannah thought, but of course she didn’t say it. Even though Fred wasn’t to her taste and he looked dreadful in her living room, she was touched that Mike had thought to get the toy for Moishe.

“Thanks, Mike,” she said for lack of anything better to say. And then, because it sounded so sparse, she added, “Wherever did you find it?”

“Oh. Well…actually Fred’s recycled. I hope Moishe won’t mind.”

“I don’t think he does,” Hannah said, watching her cat approach the big bird and rub up against it. “Is it something the police confiscated?”

“No, it’s something I had at my place. Ronni brought Fred back from Florida. She bought him on that trip she took with Bill. And then she moved and she didn’t have room, so I kept him at my place. I offered to give him back when she moved in across the hall, but she said she didn’t want Fred anymore because he didn’t match the colors in her living room.”

“I see,” Hannah said, wishing she hadn’t asked.

“Well, I’d better go. I’m really glad Moishe likes Fred. I got a new 50-inch television and he was in the way.”

Hannah walked Mike to the door, thanked him again, kissed him briefly, and sent him on his way. Then she closed and locked the door, and turned to stare at the fuchsia Phoenicopterus.

“I know you like Fred, now,” Hannah said, watching her cat rub his head up against the flamingo’s legs, “but do you know what he eats?”

Moishe turned to look at her, and Hannah thought he seemed concerned about the diet of Ronni’s second-hand shorebird.

“Fred eats shrimp, Moishe, lots and lots of shrimp. Maybe you’d better shred him up now. Then the next time I thaw a bag of shrimp for you, you won’t have any competition.”

“Rowww!” Moshe responded enigmatically, staring at her with his big yellow eyes.

“You’re right.” Hannah gave him a smile. “Maybe I’d better take a lesson from you when it comes to Fred’s first owner, and shred her, too.”

“’Bye, Moishe.” Hannah tossed him a few salmon-flavored kitty treats as she headed toward her condo door. “Try to be a good boy again today. I’ll be home early this afternoon to feed you.”

Her hand had just connected with the doorknob when the telephone rang. Hannah muttered a phrase she wouldn’t have used around her nieces in any circumstances and headed back to the kitchen to answer it. The hair on Moishe’s back wasn’t bristling, so it probably wasn’t Delores.

“Hello?” she said, wondering who’d be calling her this early.

“Hi, Hannah.”

“Norman!” Hannah began to smile as she recognized his voice. “Where are you?”

“At the airport in Atlantic City. We landed about twenty minutes ago. I’m just waiting to rent a car with GPS, and then I’ll be off to find Mood Indigo.”

Hannah glanced at the clock. It was five forty-five in the morning. That meant it was seven forty-five in Atlantic City. “It won’t be open this early,” she reminded him.

“I know. I’ll just drive over and take a look at it. Then I’ll have some breakfast.”

“When are you coming home?” Hannah couldn’t help but ask. It was silly since Norman had been gone for less than a day, but she already missed him.

“If things go the way I hope they will, I should be back early tomorrow morning, maybe sooner if everything works out.”

“Well, come by here first thing,” Hannah told him. “I don’t care how early it is. I want to hear all about it. Or if it’s past six in the morning, stop by The Cookie Jar. I should be at work by then.”

Hannah had just taken the last two trays of Cherry Winks from the oven and slid them onto the baker’s rack when the back door opened and Lisa came into the kitchen.

“Lisa! What are you doing here? I thought you were frying pancakes for the big Game Day breakfast this morning.”

“That was the plan, but it changed. I got your mother and Carrie to fill in for me.”

“Uh-oh!” Hannah winced visibly. “I’m not sure about Carrie, but I know for a fact that Mother’s never fried a pancake in her life. Dad always fixed breakfast for all of us.”

“Don’t worry. Your mother and Carrie are just setting the tables and mixing up the orange juice. That frees up Patsy to help Marge with the pancakes.”

Hannah gave a big sigh of relief. “But that still doesn’t explain why you’re here. I finished the baking, so I really don’t need any help.”

“Yes, you do. I’m going to help Luanne open so that you can go out to the lake. Dad remembered something this morning, and he won’t tell anybody except you.”

“Is it about Gus’s murder?”

“I don’t know. Herb’s with him at the cottage, and they’re waiting for you to drive out. You don’t think Dad might have…I mean…I just can’t believe that…”

“Neither can I,” Hannah interrupted her, “and I’m positive that he didn’t. But maybe he remembered something from the past that’ll help catch the killer.”