Key Lime Pie Murder (20 page)

“But…how do I stop?”

“For one thing, you call her the vic, or the victim. And if that sounds too hardhearted to you, you call her Miss Sunquist. You never use her first name.”

“What good will that do?”

“It’ll help you to depersonalize her. Every time you feel those emotions welling up and attempting to cripple you from doing your job, you tell yourself, The only thing I can do for her now is catch her killer and make him pay.”

Hannah leaned against the bookcase, her heart beating hard. Had she accused Mike of being callous when all he was trying to do was depersonalize Willa so that he could do his job?

“That all makes sense,” Lonnie said, after a long moment of thought. “But I don’t know if I can do it.”

“Sure you can. Stop concentrating on her, and start focusing on that lousy excuse for a human being who robbed her of the rest of her life.”

“Yeah,” Lonnie sounded thoughtful. “I can see how that’d work.”

“Atta boy! You’ve got the ability to be good, Lonnie. All you have to do is put the empathy on hold and dial up the determination to catch the perp.”

“Right. I think I can do that. There’s just one other thing.”

“What’s that?”

“If you keep your emotions on hold all the time, don’t you get kind of…jaded and cynical?”

“Absolutely. You’ve seen cynical cops, and believe me you don’t want to be one! But I’m not telling you to keep your emotions on hold indefinitely. The only time you have to push that hold button is when you’re working, or when you’re thinking about how to run the case. I wouldn’t be able to have any kind of personal life at all if I shut down my emotions all the time.”

“Does that mean you felt bad about Will…” Lonnie stopped and cleared his throat. “Sorry. I forgot for a second. So you felt bad about the victim, too?”

“Of course I did! But I knew that if I got too empathetic while I was the only cop there, I wouldn’t be able to assess the crime scene analytically and pick up on any clues that her killer might have left behind. Do you get it?”

“I think so.”

“Do you know what I did when I finally got home last night at four in the morning?”

“No. What?”

“I took my emotions off hold. I had to decompress, so I put on my favorite jazz album and I poured myself a brandy. I drank it down, and then I stood under a steaming shower until the hot water ran out.”

“Did it help?”

“Yeah. I felt clean when I got out, almost like I washed away all the dirtbags and scum I have to deal with on a daily basis. And then I put on my sweats and walked barefoot to the living room and stared at the new picture I hung over my couch.”

Hannah drew in her breath sharply. Mike had said he was going to hang her picture over his couch.

“It’s a beautiful picture, and it makes me feel good to look at it,” Mike went on. “And then I told myself, There’s good in the world. All you have to do is look and you’ll see it.”

Hannah swallowed hard. She’d never seen this side of Mike before.

“What’s so interesting about my law enforcement books?” a voice asked, and Hannah turned toward the doorway. Bill was standing there, staring at her curiously.

“I was looking at this one.” Hannah grabbed a heavy book at random. “I’ve always been fascinated by…” She glanced down at the title, “Fingerprint analysis in the eighteenth century.”

“Did you open it?”

Hannah shook her head. “Not yet. I was going to, but you came in, and…”

“Open it now. I want to see the expression on your face.”

Hannah opened the book and frowned as she began to page through it. “But it’s blank!”

“Right. Mike gave it to me when I was sworn in as sheriff.”

“But why would Mike give you a blank…” Hannah stopped speaking and groaned instead. “There was no fingerprint analysis in the eighteenth century!”

“Right again.” Bill glanced down at the box of cookies she’d set on his desk. “Are these for the detectives’ meeting?”

“Yes.”

“What kind are they?”

“They’re Cappuccino Royales.”

“Coffee and chocolate?”

“Yes. Mike tasted a couple at the coffee shop today. I think he’s hoping they’ll make his detectives energetic and euphoric at the same time.”

“Will they?”

“I don’t know, but Bertie Straub tried one and she said she got jazzed up from the coffee and happy from the chocolate. She was going to take some back to the Cut ’n’ Curl, but she was afraid the chips would melt under the hair dryers.”

Bill looked interested. “How many cookies are there?”

“A little less than ten dozen,” Hannah answered, subtracting for the cookies she’d given Rick and Barbara.

“That should be enough,” Bill said, opening the box and grabbing a sample cookie. “Since I’m the boss, I’d better taste one before I give them to my staff.”

“Of course. Any caring boss would do the same.”

Bill finished the cookie in three bites and reached for another. “Just to make sure they’re all alike,” he explained, eating his second cookie.

“That’s very wise of you. Quality control is important.”

Bill finished eating and picked up the box. “I’m going to go make sure everyone gets two cookies before I take the rest to the meeting. We’re working five assault and batteries from a bachelor party that got out of hand, one stolen horse, two missing gerbils from a kindergarten classroom, three grand theft autos, two B and E’s, and a murder. And that means we could all use a little energy and euphoria around here.”

“Here we are, Moishe,” Hannah announced, turning into Norman’s driveway. “You’ve never been invited to dinner before, have you?”

Moishe didn’t deign to answer. She’d heard him prowling around in the back of her cookie truck, and he was obviously content to be riding, untethered, with her.

“Just in case you’re interested, Norman ordered mixed grill for you,” Hannah told him, not expecting an answer.

“Rrrrow?” Moishe surprised her by responding. And since the latter part of his yowl ended on a higher note than the beginning, she decided that it was a question.

“That’s right. Mixed grill. Sally’s making it for you. I’ve had it, and it’s delicious.”

This time there was no response, and Hannah concentrated on negotiating the rutted driveway. The spring rains had softened the hard-packed dirt under the gravel, and heavy trucks delivering building supplies had done the rest of the damage. Just as soon as the house was completely finished, Norman would have it graded and paved.

“Here we are,” Hannah said, pulling to a stop as close to the front door as the circular driveway allowed. “You’ve never been here before, so come on up and let me put on your leash.”

But before Hannah could coax her cat to move forward, there was a tap on the window. It was Norman. He must have been watching for her to pull up.

“I’ll take the Big Guy,” Norman offered, opening one of the doors at the back of her truck and scooping Moishe into his arms. “All dressed for dinner, I see,” he said to the cat that was purring like thunder.

“What do you mean?” Hannah asked, totally confused. “He’s not dressed at all.”

“Yes, he is. He’s wearing his harness and that’s got a black tie.”

Hannah groaned all the way into Norman’s foyer. “Great mirror,” she said, noticing the oval glass that hung by the built-in coat rack they’d designed together.”

“Of course it’s a great mirror. You picked it out.”

“I did?” Hannah was surprised. She didn’t remember looking through catalogues for mirrors.

“Remember the Bette Davis festival they were running on television?”

“Of course. We must have watched at least four films that night.”

“Five including Whatever Happened To Baby Jane, but who’s counting? But there was a mirror in one of the movies that you said would be perfect for the foyer of our dream house.”

Hannah was impressed that Norman had remembered. But then she had a disturbing thought. “You didn’t buy it from of those expensive movie memorabilia auction houses, did you?”

“No, Luanne found it at an estate sale in The Cities, and the mothers gave it to me at cost. I had to have it resilvered, but it was worth it.”

Hannah was smiling as she followed Norman to the den. Just being in the house they’d designed together made her happy. She was still smiling as she stepped into the den, but the moment she saw what Norman had done to furnish it, her smile increased by several hundred lumens.

“Gorgeous!” she breathed, taking in the total effect. Norman’s den was elegance and coziness combined. It was comfort food for a weary soul who’d worked hard all day and wanted to relax in an oasis of ease. It was the kind of room that made you feel at home the moment you stepped through the arched doorway and onto the muted plaid carpet.

Once she’d experienced the total effect, Hannah took note of the individual touches. There was a beautifully polished oak bar that ran along one wall and barstools with dark green leather seats that resembled tall captain’s chairs. There was a window behind the bar that would look out over the fruit trees that Norman would eventually plant.

The other end of the large room contained a home theater with a giant television screen that slid up when it wasn’t in use. The television could be seen from the two leather recliners that were positioned as front row seats, the conversational grouping of six chairs in the main room, or the bar area at the opposite end of the room. Even though she wasn’t a sports fan, Hannah could imagine sitting at the bar, eating snacks and watching the Vikings play.

“I ordered a couch to go under the windows,” Norman gestured toward the series of tall, narrow windows that marched across one wall, “but it hasn’t come in yet.”

“This whole room is incredible,” Hannah said, not quite sure which area to explore next. And then she noticed that Norman was heading toward a spiral staircase that was built close to one wall. It was so narrow only one person could use it at a time and it rose up past a series of round windows that faced the side yard, leading to…

“The ceiling?” Hannah breathed, blinking hard. She really had to get a good night’s sleep tonight. Norman had hired excellent carpenters with impeccable references. She must be completely exhausted to imagine that they had built a staircase rising to nowhere. She rubbed her eyes and took another look, but what she’d seen had been so. The staircase was attached at one end to the ceiling.

“What in the world is…” Hannah stopped speaking, so flabbergasted she couldn’t even form the question, as Norman climbed the staircase with Moishe in his arms.

“Here you go, Big Guy,” he said setting him down about halfway up, near a plate that had been placed by one of the round windows. “Dinner theater. You can dine on mixed grill and watch the grackles in the side yard.”

It was a first for Hannah, two dawns in one day. And as the light rose for the second time, brilliant and clear, she realized that her mother was right. Norman had built this house for both of them. The spiral staircase didn’t lead to nowhere. It led to marriage and a special place in their den for her cat!

“Whoa!” Hannah said under her breath. She knew Norman loved her, but she’d thought his proposal was a reaction to Mike’s declaration, a defense against losing the time they spent together. Norman had seemed perfectly content to see her when it suited them both, but perhaps he hadn’t been quite as complacent as she thought.

“Did you build that staircase for me?” she asked, the epitome of tactlessness.

“No, I built it for Moishe,” Norman said with a smile. “It’s working, Hannah.”

“What’s working?”

“The change of scene. The Big Guy’s eating.”

Hannah watched her cat take a morsel of something and swallow it. Then he turned toward the window and stared out at the birds that were strutting around in Norman’s side yard, pecking at things in the grass. Moishe made several ack-ack noises in his throat, licked his lips, and turned back to the plate to take another bite. Norman had figured out a way to get her cat to eat. No doubt Moishe was imagining that he was crunching grackle bones along with the mixed grill Sally had made for him.

“Great plan, Norman,” Hannah praised him. And then both of them watched Moishe eat for several minutes. Between the birds, the gourmet dinner, and the excitement of a new habitat, Moishe was having a wonderful time dining out. Hannah was just wondering how she could duplicate the same circumstances at her condo when she thought of something she’d forgotten. “Uh-oh!” she groaned.

“What?”

“I forgot to bring his litter box.”

“That’s okay. He’s already found mine.”

“Yours?” Hannah started to laugh.

“Well, it’s mine in the sense that I paid for it. But I bought it for him.”

“You didn’t have to do that. You could have just called and reminded me to bring his. I know you had a busy day down at the clinic today.”

“Oh, I didn’t get it today. I bought it at the mall a while ago. I wanted it to fit in the nook by the utility closet, and I had to go to a couple of pet stores before I found one that’d work.”

Hannah was amazed. Norman had planned this out long before he’d invited Moishe to come out to dine this evening. Delores was right. Norman had been planning all along to ask her to marry him. Why else would he buy a litter box when he didn’t even have a cat?

“Time to eat,” Norman said, startling Hannah out of revelation mode. “The timer just buzzed.”

“I didn’t hear it.”

“Of course you didn’t. I’ve got it in my pocket, and it’s turned to vibrate.”

“I didn’t know you could buy a timer like that!”

“It’s not really a timer. It’s a feature on my cell phone. Do you want me to take a picture of Moishe eating before I come down?”

“Sure. I’d like to show Michelle. Do you have your camera with you?”

“No, but I’ll take it with my cell phone. The resolution’s not quite as sharp, but it’s good enough for our purposes.”

Modern technology, Hannah thought as Norman pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, pointed it at Moishe, and took what must be a photo of her cat eating Sally’s dinner. “Hold on a second, and I’ll send it to Sally. She was wondering if her dinner would help.”