Joanne Fluke Christmas Bundle: Sugar Cookie Murder, Candy Cane Murder, Plum Pudding Murder, & Gingerbread Cookie Murder (15 page)

“S
o he might have been expecting you when he opened the door?”

“It’s certainly possible. He knew I was coming to get a check for the cookies, and I called him from the Inn to tell him we were on the way.” Hannah refilled Mike’s coffee cup from the carafe on her coffee table.

“What time did you call him?”

“It must have been close to nine. I could hear someone announcing that the park was about to close over the loudspeakers.”

“And what time did you enter the park?”

Hannah shrugged. “It was probably after nine-thirty, but I didn’t check the time.”

“I did,” Norman spoke up. “The clock on my dash read nine-fifty when we got out of the car. It’s five minutes fast.”

“So you’re not late to work?” Mike asked.

“That’s right. You do the same thing?”

“You bet.”

Hannah wasn’t interested in a discussion of tardiness in the workplace and she cut them off by asking Mike a question. “Was Larry shot?”

“We’re waiting for a final determination from the coroner.”

“Doc Knight couldn’t tell if Larry was
shot
?” Hannah couldn’t believe her ears.

“Of course he could tell.” Mike turned to Norman who was sitting next to Hannah on the couch. “Describe everything you saw when you entered the park.”

“Well…the music and the main lights were off. Only the dim lights they use at night were on. The gate was closed, but it was unlocked and that’s how we got in.”

“Did you see or hear anyone?”

Both Hannah and Norman shook their heads.

“No one,” Hannah said.

“I guess someone could have been hiding in one of the shops or tents,” Norman qualified it, “but we didn’t actually see anyone.”

“No noises that might have led you to believe that someone else was in the park with you?”

“No,” Hannah answered that question. “Of course the wind was blowing and that might have masked any sounds.”

“Did you notice any footprints outside the trailer?”

“No,” Norman answered the question. “The wind had blown most of the snow away from the steps and the pathway.”

“Hannah?”

Mike turned to her and Hannah shook her head. “If there were footprints, we didn’t notice them.”

“Okay.” Mike jotted something in his notebook. “All right, Hannah. Describe everything you saw when you entered the trailer. I’m interested in your first impressions.”

“Norman stepped in and I followed him. The second I stepped in the door, I thought something was wrong.”

“Why?”

“There was no reason, not really. I hadn’t noticed the television screen yet, and I didn’t see Larry’s body until later.”

“But your
slay-dar
was working overtime?” Mike asked.

“I guess you could say that.” Hannah smiled slightly, not really minding Mike’s use of the word Norman had coined a few months ago to describe her affinity for finding murder victims. “When I first stepped inside, I looked to the left and I saw an envelope on the table next to the doorway. It had my name written on the outside and…uh-oh!”

“What’s wrong?” Norman asked when Hannah fell suddenly silent.

“It’s just…When I saw my name, I assumed it was the check and receipt that Larry had promised to give me. I picked it up and put it in my purse, and that means I removed something from the crime scene!”

“You removed something from a place you didn’t
know
was a crime scene,” Norman corrected her.

“That’s right,” Mike said. “Do you still have the envelope?”

“Yes. Do you want it?” When Mike nodded, Hannah went to get the envelope out of her purse. “Here,” she said, handing it to him.

Mike opened the envelope and took out the papers inside. “It’s a check made out to The Cookie Jar, and a receipt for the cookies you delivered.”

“That’s what I thought it was. Do you need to keep it for evidence?” Hannah asked.

Mike thought about it for a moment and then he shook his head. “Not if it was just sitting on the table. I can’t imagine any way this envelope could relate to the killer, but it wouldn’t hurt to have a copy of it for the file.”

“Would it work if I scanned the envelope and the contents?” Norman asked. “That way Hannah can deposit the check tomorrow.”

“That’ll do,” Mike said, turning to Hannah as Norman went to use her computer. “What did you see next?”

“The holes in the television screen. And then the half-full bottle of brandy and the nearly-empty snifter on the coffee table. I remember thinking that Larry might have had one too many and shot his own television screen.”

“But you still didn’t know that Larry was dead?”

“No. Not then. I remember saying that I didn’t like the way things looked, and Norman agreed with me. But then he said something about his father getting so mad when they preempted his favorite program that he threw a glass at his television set.”

“And that reassured you?”

“Not really. I still had the feeling that something was wrong. That’s when I turned around to look at the whole room and I saw Larry on the floor.”

“And that’s when Norman called me?”

“Not quite yet. First Norman went over to feel for a pulse and
then
he called you.”

“Okay. Thanks, Hannah.” Mike began to jot things down in his notebook again.

“Coffee?” Hannah asked him. “It should be ready by now.”

“Sure.”

Hannah went off to get the coffee, leaving Mike to his notes and Norman to print out the scans. By the time she came back into the living room, Norman was handing Mike the prints he’d made.

“You still haven’t told us if Larry was shot,” Norman reminded Mike.

“You wouldn’t need to ask if you’d turned the body over. Thanks for not doing that. It makes our job easier if the victim’s body hasn’t been moved.”

Hannah waited for the answer to Norman’s query, but it wasn’t forthcoming. It probably wouldn’t be. She knew Mike well enough to predict that he’d give them as little information about the murder as possible. It was always a trade-off with Mike. If she tossed him a piece of information that he wanted, he’d feed her scraps about what he knew.

“I wonder if Larry’s unorthodox business practices had anything to do with his murder,” she mused. And then she waited.

Mike turned to her quickly. “What unorthodox business practices?”

“You’ll have to ask Mayor Bascomb about that. He can explain it better than I can. How was Larry killed?”

“That’s confidential.”

“Not for long,” Hannah went into her best argument. “Minnie Holtzmeier’s son is Doc Knight’s night ambulance driver. And he’s fishing buddies with Jake and Kelly on the N
ews at O’Dark-Thirty
show. How long do you think it’ll take them to broadcast it on KCOW radio?”

Mike thought about that for a minute and then he sighed. “He was shot through the heart, and I’m guessing it was a small caliber pistol. Maybe a twenty-two, but we won’t know for sure until Doc fishes out the bullet and forensics gets through with it.”

“So the killer shot Larry
and
the television screen?” Norman asked.

“In that order?” Hannah added her own question.

“That’s probably right,” Mike admitted. “The way I see it, Mr. Jaeger opened the door expecting you, and someone else was there. That someone pulled a gun and Mr. Jaeger was backing up in a futile attempt to get away from his killer when he was shot.”

“How many times?” Hannah asked.

“Only once. Doc Knight found one entrance wound and no exit wound. After Mr. Jaeger fell, the shooter crossed over to the television set and put three bullets in the screen.”

“I wonder why the killer shot the television,” Hannah said.

“We won’t know until we catch him,” Mike said, and then he grinned. “Of course I’ve got my own personal theory.”

“What’s that?” Norman asked.

“He didn’t like the way the game was going. Everybody’s saying it’s a miracle that the Knicks pulled it off.” Mike reached for one of the cookies Hannah had brought to have with their coffee. He took a bite and looked slightly surprised. “Banana?”

“Yes. I’m trying out a new recipe for Banana Chocolate Chip Cookies. Lisa just got it from her cousin, Mary Therese. What do you think?”

“I like them,” Norman replied, finishing the cookie he’d taken when she’d set down the plate. “Banana and chocolate are really good together.”

“You won’t get any argument from me about that!” Mike smiled at Hannah and then he turned back to Norman. “There was a lot of blood. I was just wondering how long it took him to die.”

“How much blood are we talking about?”

“I’d say maybe a quart. The stain on the rug was a little bigger than a basketball. If you spilled a quart of milk it would probably make a spot about that size.”

“Okay…let me figure this out.” Norman said, claiming the pad of paper and pen Hannah always kept on the table next to the phone. “If I remember the lecture on cardiac output correctly, the adult human heart pumps approximately seventy milliliters with each beat. That means it would take roughly fifteen seconds to bleed out a quart.”

Hannah had heard quite enough. This latest topic bordered on the macabre. “Stop right there,” she said, giving both men a stern look. “If you want to eat cookies and talk about dead bodies and quarts of blood, I’m going in my bedroom to watch television.”

“Sorry,” Norman said, looking apologetic.

“I didn’t know you had a television set in your bedroom,” Mike said, not looking in the least bit contrite.

“I don’t. I just wanted you to stop talking about it, that’s all.”

“Okay, we’re through here.” Mike stood up, slipped his notebook in his pocket, and glanced over at her Christmas tree. “Are you going to decorate that? It looks kind of bare with just the lights, especially with those wires on the wall and…what are those wires doing there anyway?”

“Moishe,” Hannah said by way of explanation.

“You’re afraid he’ll tip over the tree?”

“I
know
he’ll tip over the tree. He’s already done it once…before dawn this morning.”

Mike turned to look at the guilty party who was sitting on the back of the couch washing his face. “It’s time to talk turkey, Big Guy.”

“Don’t say turkey,” Hannah said with a grin. “He knows that word. It’s one of his favorite entrees.”

“Okay, we’ll talk tough. How’s that?” Mike walked around the couch, sat below her errant feline, and lifted Moishe down to his lap. “That’s Mama’s Christmas tree over there in the corner,” he told Moishe, who actually seemed to be listening. “You have to leave it alone. You’ve got your Kitty Kondo to climb. Uncle Norman bought it just for you. The Christmas tree is Mama’s toy. You’ve got all your own toys to play with.”

Moishe looked up at Mike and for several long seconds, they stared at each other. Then Moishe opened his mouth and gave a little yowl.

“Good,” Mike said. “I’m glad you understand. And because you promised to be a good boy, I’m going to bring you a brand new toy the next time I come over.”

Moishe yowled again, and Hannah was willing to testify that he’d understood every word Mike had spoken. Perhaps the cop-to-cat talk had been a success and her Christmas tree would be safe from feline attention.

“Gotta go,” Mike said, giving Moishe a scratch under the chin. “Remember what I said, Big Guy.”

Norman stood up and followed Mike to the door. “I’ll see you out,” he said. “There’s something I need to tell you. It’ll only take a minute or two.”

The men went out and Norman closed the door behind them. That caused Hannah’s curiosity to go on high alert. It wouldn’t be right to listen to their private conversation. That would be snooping. But she thought she saw a smear of dirt on the rug very close to the door. One of them must have stepped in some slush and failed to wipe it off on the mat she kept outside her front door.

Armed with a napkin from the coffee table, Hannah hurried over to blot the rug. She wasn’t quite sure where she’d seen the dirt, but if she blotted the whole area by the door, she couldn’t miss it.

It was simply a coincidence that she could make out every word they spoke. At least that’s what Hannah told herself. She certainly wasn’t
trying
to overhear their conversation.

“I didn’t exactly
accuse
your mother of shoplifting,” Mike said.

“I know. Hannah told me.” Norman said. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m almost positive Mother paid for all those things she bought at the mall. I’ll check on it when the bills come in. I always go over there and help her with her online banking.”

“That’s good enough for me. I was just worried when I saw all those shoes. I mean…why would your mother buy six pairs of shoes?”

“Because she’s dating someone and she’s trying to impress him,” Norman explained. “She probably bought a lot of new dresses, too.”

“So who’s the lucky guy?”

“We don’t know. They were in a booth at Sally’s with the curtains drawn and all we could see was their feet.”

Mike laughed and Hannah noted he sounded amused. “What did you do? Crawl around on the floor?”

“No, Hannah dropped her purse. We had to kneel down to pick up the things that fell out.”

“That’s a good one. I’ll have to remember she does that the next time I’m in one of those curtained booths.”

Hannah began to frown. The
next
time? That meant Mike had been in one of Sally’s curtained booths before!

“Anyway, now I know why Mother’s been too busy to go out to dinner with me lately.”

“Do you think it’s serious?”

“I don’t know. Hannah does.”

“Why does Hannah think it’s serious?”

“Because she saw the waitresses deliver a bottle of champagne to their booth. And Mother was wearing red sandals with really high heels.”

“Hmmm.” Mike was silent for a moment. “Hannah’s probably right,” he concluded. “How about you? Are you okay with that?”

“I’m fine just as long as he’s not after her money. You always hear these stories about good looking guys cheating widows out of their retirement money. And look what happened to Hannah’s mother. Delores almost got caught in a scheme like that.”