Read Cream Puff Murder Online

Authors: Joanne Fluke

Tags: #Mystery, #Romance, #Thriller, #Crime, #Contemporary, #Chick-Lit, #Adult, #Humour

Cream Puff Murder (10 page)

BOOK: Cream Puff Murder
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Not a heart attack, then. Her chest felt fine, not squeezed at all, and she wasn’t light-headed, sweaty, or nauseated. But something was definitely wrong. Every time she moved, she hurt. Had she contracted some dreadful disease that would render her paralyzed and helpless in her bed?

Michelle would cry when she learned of her terrible malady. Hannah was sure of that. Michelle loved her. And Mother did too…but in her own way. Delores would be a trifle put out that Hannah couldn’t cater her book launch party, but she’d do the right thing. She’d arrive at her eldest daughter’s bedside, appropriately dressed of course, and lay a cool hand on Hannah’s fevered brow. If only I’d ordered a larger dress size, she’d sob into a lace-edged handkerchief. Dear, dear Hannah starved herself until her immune system collapsed to try to please me!

No, Mother, Andrea would contradict her, her voice quavering with emotion. Immune systems don’t go down in a day and a half. She must have picked up some virus at Heavenly Bodies, and that means it’s all my fault. I talked her into going out there with me, and it was just too much for her. You can’t take an overweight person who’s never exercised and expect miracles to…

Hannah wasted no time cutting off Andrea’s imaginary conversation, since it wasn’t at all flattering. A dying woman didn’t need criticism about her weight and lifestyle. She wanted sympathy, appreciation for what she’d accomplished, a few sterling accolades. But something Andrea had said struck a familiar chord, something about never exercising and…

If you’re not in the habit of exercising regularly, some of you may wake up stiff and sore in the morning. Roger, their fitness instructor, had addressed the whole class, but he’d been looking straight at her. If that happens, simply stretch your arms and legs gently until you feel more comfortable.

Hannah sighed and met the gaze of the cat who sat on the pillow next to her head. Perhaps it was her imagination, but she thought he looked worried. “It’s okay, I’m just stiff and sore. I can get your breakfast, no problem.”

The gaze never wavered, but Moishe moved closer. He inched over until he was near enough to rub his head against Hannah’s face, and his rough tongue shot out to lick her chin.

“I love your kitty kisses,” Hannah said, reveling in the unaccustomed display of affection from her feline roommate. “That’s so sweet. Just let me stretch first, and then I’ll get you something you’ll like.”

She tackled her arms first, raising them slowly and painfully above her head. She brought them down again, very slowly, and gave a sigh of relief. Stretching hurt, but it hadn’t killed her. She stretched her arms again, very slowly, and it didn’t hurt quite so much. Perhaps there was something to this after all!

Her legs were next. She carefully bent, extended, pointed her toes at the ceiling and then relaxed. The first time was agony, but after four stretches per leg, she felt capable of getting out of bed.

The rest was easy, especially since Moishe followed along at her heels, batting at the hem of her robe. In her efforts to stay ahead of him, she must have been stretching out what was supposed to be stretched, because by the time she arrived at the kitchen, she felt almost human again.

Garfield’s face grinned up at her from the bottom of Moishe’s food bowl. He’d eaten it all during the night and she had just turned toward the broom closet to fill it up again, when she remembered that the instructions on the Kitty Valet had said to let your pet empty his old bowl once and then put it away so that he would switch to the new, improved feeder.

“Here you go, Moishe,” Hannah said, picking up the Garfield bowl and hedging her bets by tossing a few fish-shaped salmon-flavored kitty treats into the Kitty Valet bowl. “That’s your new bowl. Try it, you’ll like it.”

Never one to turn down his favorite treat, Moishe approached the bowl with the feed tube and extracted one fishy treat with a well-placed claw. Once that was gone, he extracted another and, as Hannah watched in amazement, he started to chow down on the kitty crunchies in the bowl.

“You like it!” Hannah said, pouring herself a life-giving mug of coffee from the pot that brewed automatically every morning, and then grabbing the phone to punch in the sheriff’s department number. Mike would be pleased when she told him that Moishe was using his gift. When the desk sergeant answered, she asked for Mike’s extension and waited until he picked up.

“It’s Hannah,” she said, “I just called to say…he likes it! Moishie likes it!” And then she waited to see if Mike had been watching the oldie but goodie commercials KCOW television had been rerunning.

“Moishie likes…oh!” Mike gave a little laugh. “I get it. It’s a takeoff on Mikey, the little brother who’d eat anything on those cereal commercials. Does that mean Moishe’s eating out of his new Kitty Valet?”

“That’s exactly what it means. I picked up his regular bowl, just as it said to do in the instructions, and tossed in a couple of treats to get him started. Now the treats are history and he’s chowing down on his regular food.”

“It’s nice to get good news for a change.”

“What’s the matter?”

“Rough night. A blue spruce jumped out in front of Wade Hoffman’s car at sixty miles an hour.”

“Wade Hoffman?” Hannah began to frown. “Wasn’t he Ronni Ward’s fiancé?”

“Yeah. Wade’s passenger said he was despondent and he’d been drinking heavily. The passenger tried to get the keys, but Wade insisted on driving.”

“Were they badly hurt?” Hannah hated to ask, especially before she’d had her second cup of coffee.

“Wade got the worst of it. He’ll be in a body cast for six months. His passenger got off lucky with just a broken arm.”

“Who was his…” Hannah stopped in midquestion as she heard a loud beeping noise on the line.

“I’ve got to go, Hannah,” Mike broke in. “I’m expecting a callback from Doc Knight and that’s probably him now.”

The line went dead, and Hannah hung up the phone. She’d been about to ask Mike who’d been riding in the passenger seat, but that could wait until later. Right now she had to get into her awful yellow-and-black exercise outfit and meet Andrea at Heavenly Bodies.

“So how are you feeling now?” Andrea asked, leaning back in the Jacuzzi. They’d finished their workout routine and were relaxing before class began.

“I’m a lot better. The muscles I didn’t know I had aren’t screaming anymore. Now they’re just groaning a little.” Hannah stopped speaking and listened intently for a moment. “I hear something ringing.”

“It’s probably my phone. It’s in my purse in the dressing room.”

“Why is it there, and not here?”

“Because I don’t want to answer it. It’s Mother, and she’s probably just checking to make sure we’re out here exercising.”

“How do you know it’s Mother?”

“Because nobody else would call me this early. It’s hours before I usually get up.”

“It could be Grandma McCann with an emergency.”

“It’s not. She has her own special ring tone, and so does Bill. If it’s not Mother and it’s something important, whoever it is will leave me voice mail.” Andrea glanced up at the clock on the wall. “We’d better dry off and get dressed for class, Hannah. Roger should be coming in any minute.”

But Roger didn’t come in, even though the class was all assembled and waiting for him. Laura Jorgensen was in the front row looking good in a bright green exercise outfit. Hannah had found out yesterday that Laura wanted to lose ten pounds before her wedding to Drew Vavra, Jordan High’s head coach, in June.

Donna Lempke, an unmarried woman in her early thirties, was in the same boat. She’d told Hannah that she had a brand-new swimsuit she’d bought two years ago, but she’d gained weight around the middle, and last summer she’d been afraid to wear it. This summer would be a different story if Roger’s class worked for her.

Cheryl Coombs, who ran the cosmetic counter at Cost-Mart, had another goal in mind. She’d lost weight recently, and now she was attempting to tighten and tone up. Her daughter, Amber, was also in the class. Hannah wasn’t sure if it was a mother-daughter project, or Cheryl just wanted to keep an eye on Amber to make sure she didn’t run off to meet her boyfriend, Richie Maschler, before school started.

Vonnie Blair, Doc Knight’s secretary, was a perfect size five. She wasn’t interested in losing weight or toning up her muscles. Vonnie was interested in Roger, their fitness coach.

Gail Hansen, on the other hand, was a forty-year-old woman with a purpose. Always buxom, even as a young teenager, she was now engaged in a pitched battle to keep certain parts of her anatomy from engaging in a downhill race toward her waist.

Immelda Giese, Father Coultas’s housekeeper, had admitted to Andrea that she was there for the company. Father was so busy he didn’t have much time to talk, and Immelda was a gregarious person. She wore a solid black sweat suit as a concession to her employer’s occupation, and talked to her neighbor, Babs Dubinski, during the entire class.

Babs readily admitted that she was there to lose weight, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. She said she needed to keep up with her grandchildren and she couldn’t play softball in the park with them if she didn’t get in shape.

The last two members of the class were Loretta Richardson and Trudi Schuman. They were practically inseparable. They’d been best friends in high school, settled in houses across the street from each other when they were married, and helped to raise each other’s children. Trudi had three boys, and Loretta had three girls, but so far the kids hadn’t gotten together in any meaningful way. They’d opened a store together right across the street from Hal and Rose’s Cafe. It was called Trudi’s Fabrics because Trudi’s husband had put up most of the money. Loretta needed to tone up more than Trudi, but they drove out to class together, showered and dressed for work when it was over, went into town to have breakfast at the cafe, and then opened the shop at nine.

Andrea glanced at her watch. It was the new high-impact resistant, waterproof, easy-read dial watch she’d bought for the express purpose of exercising. “He’s almost ten minutes late,” she announced.

“Maybe he’s not coming,” Loretta said in what Hannah thought was a hopeful tone. It was no secret that Loretta didn’t enjoy exercising.

“He’ll be here,” Immelda said. “Roger has a real sense of duty. He’d call to notify someone if he couldn’t come in.”

Vonnie looked worried. “I hope he’s all right. The roads were slippery this morning.”

“He’ll be fine,” Andrea reassured her. “He drives a Range Rover, and Bill says they’re the safest vehicle on the road.”

Babs Dubinski gave a little laugh. “That’s because Bill wants one. Marvin was in the dealership looking at a used one for Shirley and the kids, and Bill was there pricing the new models.”

Hannah glanced at Andrea. From her surprised expression it seemed that Bill hadn’t mentioned a word about wanting a new Range Rover.

“Somebody’s coming!” Vonnie said, glancing toward the door.

Hannah listened to the sound of footsteps. Someone was coming down the hall. Then the door to their exercise classroom opened, and Ronni Ward stepped in.

“Sorry about that,” she said, throwing her coat over the handlebars of a stationary bike and stepping up on the platform the instructors used so that the whole class could see and copy their movements.

“Where’s Roger?” Andrea recovered enough to ask.

“He’s in the hospital getting a cast on his arm. He was in an accident last night.”

Suddenly things clicked for Hannah. Mike had mentioned an accident involving Ronni’s ex-fiancé, Wade. And in class yesterday, Roger had told them that he taught fitness classes a couple of evenings a week at a gym in Elk River. He must have been talking about Wade’s gym, and that meant Roger was the injured passenger in Wade’s car.

“Let’s get started,” Ronni said, giving them all a perky smile that Hannah immediately labeled as phony. “I’ll be taking over this class for the next two months, and we’ll be doing things my way. I know Roger was pretty easygoing with you, but my goal is to get results.” She glanced around the room, and her gaze landed on Vonnie. “What are you doing here? You don’t need to lose weight.”

“I just wanted to shape up a little,” Vonnie said, and a blush rose to her cheeks.

Ronni referred to her clipboard. “You’re enrolled in three of Roger’s classes, and you have private sessions with him twice a week. I think I know what you’re after, but take it from me, you don’t stand a chance. Roger likes them a lot younger and a lot prettier.

“And here we have…” Ronni referred to her clipboard again. “Babs. You’re over fifty, aren’t you, Babs?”

“Well…yes.”

“Don’t you think Babs is pretty childish for somebody who’s got grown kids?”

Babs looked flustered. “I don’t know. I never thought about it. I’ve been Babs all my life.”

“It looks like you’ve been heavy all your life, too. Let’s get a few pounds off that stomach of yours. It looks like you’re hiding a ten pound rump roast under your shirt.”

Ronni referred to her clipboard again. “And here’s Immelda, the nun.”

“I’m not a nun. I’m the housekeeper for Father Coultas.”

“Nice of him to give you his black sweats. Maybe if you lose some weight and dress like a woman, you can be more than just his housekeeper.”

Ronni turned away, not a bit concerned about the expression of outrage on Immelda’s face, and zeroed in on Gail Hansen. “You’re getting pretty top heavy there, Gail,” she said. “If somebody shoved you forward, you’d bounce.

“And there’s the quilting ladies,” Ronni went on. “Didn’t Roger tell you that you’ll never lose weight if you go to Hal and Rose’s after class for pancakes and eggs with a side of sausage?”

Hannah glanced around the room. Those who hadn’t been bitten by Ronni’s sharp criticism looked nervous wondering if they’d be next. It was time to put a stop to this before someone really got hurt. Ronni turned to face Andrea, but before she could open her mouth, Hannah stepped in.

“Are you going to lead us through our exercises, or just insult us?” she asked.

“The cookie lady steps up to the plate!” Ronni gave a little laugh. “I wondered how long it would take for somebody to talk back. Get mad, ladies. Get mad and do something to improve your image. If I noticed how bad you look, so does everybody else. Now watch me, and let’s do some bends and stretches.”

BOOK: Cream Puff Murder
6.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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