Key Lime Pie Murder (27 page)

“Hi, guys,” Herb greeted them.

“Hey,” one of the cowboys answered. “You must be the magician, huh?”

“That’s me. Did you see a woman around here, tall and a little chubby with frizzy red hair?”

There would also be time to make Herb pay for that chubby remark later, Hannah promised herself. Right now silence on her part was essential.

“Nope,” the second cowboy answered. “Haven’t seen anybody like that, and we’ve been standing here talking for a couple of minutes or so.”

“Lose your wife?” the first cowboy asked.

“No, my assistant. And I can’t do my trick without her. But since you guys are here, I wonder if you’d do me a little favor.”

“Sure, as long as you’re not gonna pull us out of a hat,” the second cowboy said with a laugh.

“It’s nothing like that. I have to get this cabinet inside and ready to go out on stage. It’s heavy, and I can’t do it alone. Do you think you could help me carry it?”

“We can do that,” the first cowboy said with a grin. “How’d you get it this far anyway?”

“My assistant helped me carry it.”

“Tall and chubby with frizzy red hair and muscles?” the second cowboy turned to his friend. “Sounds like your type.”

“Maybe. Be a lot better than that gal from Fargo.” The first cowboy flashed a grin. “Where do you want us to grab this, Houdini?”

“See the handles on the sides?”

“Yeah. I see ’em.”

“You take one side, your buddy can take the other, and I’ll get the handle on the end. Ready?”

There was a breathless moment when Hannah felt herself lifted, and tilted so that she was on her back with her feet higher than her head. Then everything changed and they set her down. Hard.

“Whoa!” one of the cowboys exclaimed. “This thing’s heavy! You say you and your assistant carried it all the way here?”

“That’s right. This probably sounds crazy, but it didn’t seem this heavy then. Maybe we need more muscle. Do you think we should look for a fourth guy to help us?”

“Nah.” The first cowboy shook his head. “We lift heavier than this when we strike the show. We’ll get this dang thing inside for you or die tryin’.”

Hannah took a deep breath and tensed for what might be a rough ride. The back of her head felt slightly sore, and she hoped they wouldn’t set her down hard again.

What a terrible pickle! she thought, using one of her father’s favorite expressions as she was jolted and jounced and bumped inside. Then the cabinet came to rest, upright, thank goodness, and Hannah took a grateful breath.

“Thanks a lot, guys,” Herb said, and Hannah watched through the sword slit near her head as Herb shook their hands. “I’d better go look for my assistant before they call my name.”

Hannah watched Herb walk away, presumably to go look for her. The two cowboys stood there for a moment and then they left, too. Hannah moved her head to look out of another slit. There was no one around.

After a second check of all the slits she could use as peepholes, Hannah inched the door open and stepped out. She shut the door behind her and was just dusting herself off when Herb rushed up to her.

“Where were you?”

“Not that far away.”

“But I looked all over for you and I couldn’t find you. I thought you were going to stay with the magic cabinet.”

“I had it in my sight the whole time,” Hannah insisted, not mentioning that her sight had been from the inside of the cabinet. “Those two cowboys were pretty good lifters, weren’t they?”

“I’ll say!” Herb wiped his forehead and took a deep breath. “Sorry, Hannah. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. We’re up next, and I guess I’m nervous.”

“You’ll do fine. Really you will.”

“I sure hope so! Lisa’s got all her old girlfriends from high school out there to cheer me on. Do you think we can get the magic cabinet out on stage by ourselves?”

“Absolutely.”

“But it’s really heavy.”

“Just leave it to me. I’m used to lifting fifty-pound sacks of flour and sugar down at The Cookie Jar.” Hannah thought it wise not to mention that the magic cabinet would be more than a few pounds lighter when they moved it on stage. “All you have to do is stick the right swords in all the right places at all the right times, and we’ll be just fine.”

“Come on, Hannah. They’re calling for us!” Herb was beaming from ear to ear as he took her arm and escorted her onto the stage. Hannah was beaming, too. They’d won the competition. Herb had been judged the best magician in the show.

Her smile stayed in place until there were several flashes and she realized that Norman was standing up in front of the audience, taking their picture. Her picture. In the awful purple taffeta bridesmaid dress!

Another few minutes of handshaking with the judges and bowing to the audience and they were through. Hannah walked offstage and into the wings with a huge sigh of relief.

“Congratulations!” Norman said, rushing up to Herb to shake his hand. And then he turned to Hannah. “You were just perfect, Hannah. I knew it was a trick, but I still got nervous when Herb asked you to knock three times if you were okay, and he had to ask twice before you did it.”

“I think that’s what really impressed the judges,” Herb said. “Hannah’s sense of timing was just great. I knew she was fine, but I was still starting to get a little worried about her.”

Me, too, Hannah thought, but she didn’t admit it. She wasn’t about to tell anybody that her leg had gone to sleep and she was so busy massaging it, she hadn’t even heard Herb’s question the first time he asked it.

“Rod said to tell you he’s writing a feature story about the contest and he’s going to run a picture of the two of you in the Lake Eden Journal on Sunday.”

Hannah gave a weak little smile. Her picture. In the awful purple taffeta bridesmaid dress. Her own words had come back to haunt her. It’s not like I’m going to wear it forever, you know, she’d told Lisa. But now it appeared she was. She’d be frozen forever in the archives of their local newspaper, wearing the awful purple…

“What is it?” Norman asked as Hannah suddenly started to smile.

“Nothing.” Hannah gave a little shrug, but she felt more like whooping, hollering, and dancing. Rod only published one color picture a year, and that was at Christmas. The rest of the year all photos were in black and white. In the picture that Norman had just taken, she’d be wearing a black dress. She was saved! This wasn’t the worst day of her life, after all!

“Too bad we won’t be in color,” Herb said, frowning slightly. “Lisa really likes the way I look in this purple cape.”

Norman thumped the side of his head with his hand. “I was so excited about your winning, I forgot to tell you. Rod’s pulling out all the stops for this feature. He’s even going to publish your picture in color right under the banner on the front page.”

“It’s really nice of you to drive me, Norman.” Hannah was grateful, due in no small part to the cool air that was blowing from the vents in Norman’s sedan. Although she had air-conditioning in her cookie truck, tepid was the word that best described the lowest temperature it reached. “And thanks for letting me call Doc Knight from your nice, cool car.”

“That’s okay. You need one.”

“A car with good air-conditioning?”

“No, a cell phone. It’s a good thing to have in case of an emergency. It could even save your life.”

“Maybe you’re right, but think of all the calls I’d get from Mother. It would be like wearing an electronic leash.”

Norman thought about that for a moment. “Then don’t turn it on unless you want to make a call.”

“But doesn’t that defeat the whole purpose?”

“Not really. It would be there for your convenience, not your mother’s. Think of it as the miniature phone booth you carry in your purse. Instead of putting in money to make a call, you just turn it on and punch in the number.”

“That’s worth considering,” Hannah said, warming to the idea. “I promise I’ll think about it.”

“Good. Only two miles to go Hannah.”

Hannah glanced at her watch. “I think we’re going to make it. Doc Knight promised he’d delay as long as he could before he put Curly under.”

“I sure hope he’s okay. He’s my favorite rodeo clown.”

“You know him?”

“A little. I talked to him before the rodeo this afternoon, and I took his picture.”

“When he was saving Tucker from the bull?”

“Before that. They needed a few photos for flyers to advertise the show, and I volunteered.”

Hannah smiled. Norman was a very generous man. “That was nice of you, Norman.”

“Maybe. But I had an ulterior motive.”

“What?”

“When I was a kid, I loved rodeos. I guess it sounds silly now, but I always wanted to be a rodeo star.”

“It doesn’t sound silly to me. I always wanted to be a prima ballerina, but I have lousy balance.”

“Same here. Not the ballet part, but I’m a lousy rider so I knew I couldn’t be a rodeo cowboy. That’s when I started noticing the clowns and I realized that their job was more important and a lot more dangerous than any rodeo star out there.”

“I never came to terms with the ballet thing,” Hannah admitted. “I skipped school one day, took the bus to Minneapolis, and bought myself a pair of Capezios. I thought that if I had the right shoes, I could be a ballerina.”

“That’s sad.” Norman reached out to squeeze her hand.

“No, that’s stupid. But I still put on Swan Lake sometimes, and dance around the living room.”

Norman pulled up in the parking lot and shut off the engine. “Do you think Curly can shed any light on Willa’s murder?”

“I don’t know. The whole thing is like a jigsaw puzzle, the kind that doesn’t have a picture on the cover. I’ve got a lot more pieces in place right now than I did when I started, but so far all they’re doing is making me realize how many other pieces are missing.”

As they pushed open the door to the lobby at Lake Eden Memorial Hospital, a familiar scent hit Hannah’s nostrils. It was the smell she always associated with hospitals, a combination of antiseptic floor soap, talcum powder, and coffee that had warmed in a pot for too long. There was a mirrored wall that had been designed to make the waiting area seem larger, and Hannah winced as she caught sight of her reflection. She was still wearing the purple taffeta dress. She hadn’t wanted to take the time to change.

“Nobody at the desk,” Norman said, walking up to the deserted reception area and stating the obvious.

“That’s okay. Doc Knight told me which room. Come on.”

Hannah led the way down the corridor to one of the rooms Doc Knight used for pre op. She opened the door, expecting to see Doc Knight and a nurse hovering over Curly, but the only person in the room was the cowboy.

“Hi, Curly,” she said, walking over to take the chair by his bed. “I’m Hannah Swensen. Did Doc Knight tell you I was coming?”

Curly nodded, which was all he could do. It was obvious that he’d taken a turn for the worse since she’d spoken to Doc Knight. Curly was now on a ventilator.

“I realize you can’t speak, so I’ll only ask questions you can answer with a yes or a no. Do you think that Tucker deliberately tried to kill you this afternoon?”

Curly’s eyes widened. He was clearly startled by the question, and Hannah hoped she hadn’t shocked him too much. Then he sighed and gave a nod.

“One of the other cowboys said you’ve been asking questions about Tucker’s background. Is that true?”

Curly gave another nod, a little weaker this time. Hannah knew she had to hurry. He was fading fast.

“Did you find out anything that might have caused Tucker to try to kill you?”

Curly tried to move his head, but it didn’t happen. He blinked his eyelids as if they were too heavy to keep open, and then they fluttered shut. Hannah glanced at the IV stand next to his bed. Something in a bag was slowly dripping into Curly’s veins and Hannah concluded that Doc Knight had ordered a pre-op sedative.

“Hannah?” It was Doc Knight, and Hannah moved over as he walked to the bed and made an adjustment to Curly’s IV. “That’s it. I have to get this young man patched up.”

“Okay, Doc.” Hannah turned back to Curly. He looked as still as death, and she hoped it was just a metaphor.

“Good luck, Curly,” Norman said, reaching out to touch his arm.

“Yes, good luck,” Hannah echoed, and then she turned to Doc Knight. “Is he going to be okay?”

Doc Knight motioned them out into the hallway. “I can’t make any promises,” he said. “He’s young and he’s strong, and he was in good health before that bull got to him. That’s in his favor. And I’m going to do my best. That goes without saying. The only thing is, I’m not going to know how much damage there is until I open him up.”

“So it could go either way?” Norman asked.

“I’m afraid so. Times like this make me wish I’d gone into dermatology.”

“Not exactly a balanced meal,” Norman said, smiling as he dug into his Corn Dog Combo. Since they’d gotten back to the fairgrounds forty minutes before the Miss Tri-County Competition was scheduled to start, and changing clothes had taken Hannah only a couple of minutes, they had time to stop at the food court for sustenance.

Hannah glanced down at his plate. “Looks balanced to me. You’ve got a corn dog balanced on top of a pile of baked beans.”

“I like the way you think,” Norman said, glancing over at her plate. “How’s that Big Blue Ox burger?”

“A little heavy on the blue cheese, but a lot better than I thought it would be.”

Hannah and Norman were silent for a few moments while they hurried through their meals. Norman was the first to finish, and he stood up. “What do you want for dessert?”

A deep-fried candy bar, Hannah thought, but she didn’t say it. They’d passed the Sinful Pleasures booth on their way in, and someone else had been taking Ruby’s place. Hannah assumed that she was at the hospital with Riggs, since Curly was one of his rodeo clowns. She’d wait to indulge in that particular calorie-laden treat until Ruby was working again.

“Just coffee,” Hannah said, although she was already tasting the gooey confection in her mind. “We’re judging cakes tonight so I’ll have plenty of dessert later.”

“Okay, I’ll get the coffee. Which booth is best?”