Strawberry Shortcake Murder (13 page)

She walked over to the refrigerator, opened the door, and faced an array of gleaming shelves. They were perfectly bare. She’d been so busy sleuthing, she’d forgotten to bring the heavy cream!

Someone was waving at her in the wings and Hannah spotted Lisa holding up a quart of heavy cream. The stage manager also spotted her and motioned her forward, but Lisa shook her head. The gesturing went back and forth for a moment, the stage manager crooking his finger in a “come here” signal, and Lisa’s head shaking back and forth in refusal.

Hannah bit back a grin as the stage manager ducked down beneath camera range and scuttled off to the place where Lisa was standing. There was a brief discussion, which Hannah could imagine. “Come on, she needs that cream.” “But I can’t!” “Yes, you can. You don’t want to let her down, do you?” Finally, Lisa, blushing to the very roots of her light brown hair, walked onto the set and handed Hannah the cream.

Lisa turned her face slightly, so the audience couldn’t see it. “He told me to help you deliver the desserts,” she whispered.

“Good. I can use the help,” Hannah whispered back. “I’ll dish them up and you pour on the cream. Then I’ll carry the tray and you can hand them to the newscasters, okay?”

Lisa nodded, and they dished up the desserts together. They’d just finished when the stage manager motioned them forward. Hannah stepped out with the tray and Lisa followed her up to the newscaster’s long gleaming desk.

“It’s a new face, folks,” Chuck Wilson commented, and then he turned to Lisa. “Who are you?”

Lisa took a deep breath and Hannah guessed what was running through her mind. She had to answer. She’d look like an idiot if she didn’t. “My name is Lisa Herman, and I’m Hannah’s assistant at The Cookie Jar.”

“Thanks, Lisa.” Chuck smiled as he gazed down at the dessert dish. “This looks delicious. What is it, Hannah?”

“Apricot Bread Pudding,” Hannah answered, hoping he wouldn’t ask Lisa another question before she finished serving the other newscasters. Her hands were already shaking, and if she got any more nervous, Dee-Dee Hughes would end up with Apricot Bread Pudding all over her tight yellow sweater.

It seemed that Dee-Dee was on a mission to call attention to her perfect figure, because the moment after Lisa had served her, she said, “Christmas is coming and I know I have to watch my weight. This dessert isn’t low-cal, is it?”

“It’s not low-cal, but it has half the calories of a slice of apple pie,” Lisa surprised Hannah by answering. “And it would be even less if you served it with milk instead of heavy cream.”

Hannah silently applauded Lisa for figuring out the calories. She must have guessed that Dee-Dee Hughes would ask the same question she’d asked last night.

“I’ve never had bread pudding like this before,” Wingo Jones put in his two-cents’ worth. “Doesn’t it usually have raisins?”

“Yes,” Hannah answered this time. “But there’s no reason why you can’t use other dried fruit.”

Wingo looked confused. “I didn’t know raisins were dried fruit. I thought they were just… raisins. You know, in the box? For quick energy?”

“Raisins are dried grapes,” Lisa explained. “Just like prunes are dried plums.”

Rayne Phillips licked his lips, then gave the camera blissful smile. “This is really good, folks! Aren’t you going to tell us how to get the recipe so we can make it at home, Chuck?”

Chuck Wilson picked up on his cue and explained that viewers could call KCOW switchboard for a copy of Hannah’s recipe. There was a final shot of the newscasters with Hannah and Lisa standing behind them, then the news was over.

Hannah waited until they’d gone back to the kitchen set to pack up the supplies. They worked in silence for a moment, then she turned to Lisa. “You were great tonight, Lisa. You said just the right things.”

“I did?” Lisa sounded surprised. “I never could have done it if you hadn’t asked me to help you dish up. Once I started working, I forgot to be so nervous.”

“Was your dad watching at home?” Hannah picked up one of the boxes.

Lisa nodded, hefting the other and following Hannah toward the wings. “Mr. Drevlow came over to sit with him. I really hope he taped it for me. I didn’t know that I was going to be on television!”

The stage manager was waiting for them, and he heard Lisa’s comment. “Better tell him to stick in a tape for tomorrow night, too. I just got a call from the booth. Mason wants you to help Hannah on camera until the bake-off is over.”

“Me?” Lisa’s voice squeaked slightly, she was so excited. “Wait until I tell Dad! He’s going to be so excited, I’ll have to put on The Sound of Music to get him to sleep.”

The stage manager looked puzzled, but Hannah knew exactly what Lisa meant. Lisa had told her that The Sound of Music was like a bedtime story to her dad. Julie Andrews’s voice had such a calming effect that Jack Herman never got past the first few scenes before he dozed off for the night.

“It’s her voice,” Lisa did her best to explain. “It’s very soothing. And he’s seen it so many times, he already knows the story.”

The stage manager looked a bit confused, so Hannah stepped in. “Everybody has a different trick to get to sleep. My dad used to listen to Wagner. I prefer to read a bad cookbook myself.”

“A bad cookbook?”

Hannah grinned as she nodded. “A good one makes my stomach growl, and then I really can’t get to sleep.”

Hannah said good-bye to Lisa, who was bubbling over with excitement, and set out to search for Andrea. Tracey was drawing the name of the replacement judge for tonight, and Hannah walked down the hall toward the classroom that Mr. Purvis had designated as the makeup room. She found Andrea standing next to Bill, watching a hairstylist comb and spray Tracey’s hair.

Andrea spotted Hannah in the doorway and turned to Bill. “I need to talk to Hannah about the new listing I got this afternoon. Can you bring Tracey to the stage when she’s ready?”

“Go ahead, honey,” Bill agreed. “We’ll join you just as soon as Tracey’s finished here.”

“What new listing?” Hannah asked, the moment they’d found a private spot in the wings. “I thought you were going to pass out calendars in Danielle’s neighborhood.”

“I did. That’s where I got the listing. Mrs. Adamczak’s cousin is selling his place. She got him on the phone, and I talked him into listing it with me. But that’s not important, Hannah. I got some new information for us.”

Hannah started to smile. She could always count on Andrea. “What is it?”

“You know Mrs. Kalick, don’t you? She’s the widow who lives at then end of Danielle’s block.”

“I know her. What did she tell you?”

“She said she was just getting ready for bed when she heard cars in the alley. She wasn’t sure about the time, but she knows it was between eight-thirty and ten. Her bathroom window faces the alley, and when she glanced out, she saw Boyd’s Grand Cherokee drive by. And there was another car following it.”

“Good job, Andrea!” Hannah complimented her. “This could be really important. Did Mrs. Kalick recognize the second car?”

“No. The streetlight’s at the other end of the block, and it was dark in the alley. But the moon was out and she noticed that the top of the car was light-colored. She said it was big, like a Cadillac or a Lincoln, but that’s not the exciting part. There was a third car, Hannah.”

“There was?”

“Yes. It drove up to the mouth of the alley, turned off its lights, and parked right there next to a big pine tree. All Mrs. Kalick could see was the bumper. There were just too many branches in the way.”

“How long was it parked there?”

“About fifteen minutes, time enough for Mrs. Kalick to soak her teeth and put night cream on her face. She said that when she looked out again, it was gone.”

“Did she tell Bill and Mike about it?”

Andrea shook her head. “She told them about the car that was following Boyd, but she didn’t mention the third one.”

“Why not?”

“She figured it was Felicia Berger and her boyfriend. I guess this isn’t the first time they’ve parked under the pine tree with the lights out. Mrs. Kalick likes Felicia, and she didn’t want to get her in trouble with her parents. You know how strict the Bergers are, Hannah. They don’t approve of makeup or dancing, and they’d skin Felicia up one side and down the other if they found out that she had a boyfriend.”

Hannah knew the Bergers, and they were the strictest parents in town. “This could be really important, Andrea, especially if the car didn’t belong to Felicia’s boyfriend. Did Mrs. Kalick tell you anything else?”

“No, but Mr. Gessell did. He lives right next door to Danielle and thought he heard two men arguing in the alley. He was about to go out to see what was the matter when the voices stopped.”

“What time was that?”

“He didn’t know, but he said he’d just finished listening to the weather report on KCOW radio. I called the station and checked on it, Hannah. The weather report is on every night from eight fifty-five to nine.”

“Good for you.” Hannah was impressed.

“Your turn, Hannah.”

“What?”

“I said, it’s your turn. What did you find out about the scarf?”

“Nothing much, but Claire got really nervous when I mentioned it. I told her I wanted to buy it, and she said it was gone, that it faded in the window and she had to send it back.”

“But we know that’s not true,” Andrea pointed out. “Luanne saw it in Norman’s office. Do you suppose Claire had two scarves exactly the same?”

“No. She said it was hand-embroidered and was one of a kind. She was telling the truth about that. I could tell. I even gave her a chance to change her story. I said that I knew she’d been busy with the Christmas rush, and I could understand if she forgot who bought it. But she looked me straight in the eye and swore that she didn’t sell it.”

“So she lied when she said she returned it, but she told the truth when she said that no one bought it?”

“That’s right. It just doesn’t make sense, Andrea. The only thing that I can think of is that Claire gave the scarf to someone and didn’t want me to know who it was.”

“That’s really strange.” Andrea frowned slightly. “And it’s even stranger because Claire was so nervous about it. I think that scarf is important, Hannah. We have to find out who has it.”

Hannah glanced around and saw Bill and Tracey coming toward them. “I know. We’ll talk about this later, Andrea. Here come Bill and Tracey.”

“Right.” Andrea spotted them and gave a little wave. Then she turned back to Hannah. “You’d better dash over to makeup before the contest starts.”

“I’ve already been there. They did my makeup before the news.”

“Well, you need a touch-up,” Andrea informed. “You lipstick’s worn off, your face is shiny, and you hair’s all frizzy again.”

“Thanks for telling me, Andrea.” Hannah tried to keep the sarcasm from her voice as she headed off to the makeup room. Andrea didn’t mean to be critical; she just wanted Hannah to look her best. But with two gorgeous sisters like Andrea and Michelle, and a mother who still looked great in a bikini, only her sense of humor kept Hannah from walking down the sidewalks of Lake Eden with a brown paper bag pulled over her head.

After Mr. Hart had congratulated the winner, an elderly woman who had baked a delicious poppy seed cake, Hannah turned to Edna Ferguson, the new substitute judge. “You did a wonderful job, Edna.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Yes.” Hannah smiled warmly. “I thought you handled that gingerbread problem very well.”

Edna made a face. “I really didn’t like it.”

“I know, but you complimented the contestant on her brandy sauce.”

“It was a good brandy sauce. It just didn’t taste right with the gingerbread, that’s all.”

“That’s true.” Hannah frowned slightly, remembering the combination of ginger and brandy. “All the same, I thought you were very kind.”

“I tried to be. After what happened last night, I figured the last thing we needed was another tactless judge on the panel. They haven’t arrested anyone yet, have they, Hannah?”

“I don’t think so. I talked to Bill right before the contest, and I’m sure he would have said something.”

“Well, I hope they catch him soon!” Edna shivered slightly. “Another murderer loose in Lake Eden! It just gives a body chills.”

After she’s said good night to Edna, Hannah collected the boxes from her televised baking and stashed them in the back of her truck. As she drove toward her condo, where Norman had promised to meet her, she thought about what Edna had said. Perhaps Edna suspected that Boyd’s murder had something to do with the bake-off. It would explain why she’d been so careful about criticizing the contestants’ entries. But Hannah was convinced that the nasty comments Boyd had made as a judge had nothing to do with his violent demise. All of last night’s contestants had airtight alibis, and that meant Boyd had been killed for another reason.

Hannah flicked her lights at a car that was weaving a little too close to the center line. It straightened out and she passed it. She was sure that the cars Mrs. Kalick had seen in the alley figured into the picture. So did the argument that Mr. Gessell had heard. The phone call Boyd had gotten on Tuesday was also an important part of the puzzle. Norman’s first patient, the mysterious lady who’d left the scarf, could have made it. Hannah intended to ply Norman with cookies tonight and find out exactly who she was.

Hannah opened her door with a smile. For some strange reason, she was really glad to see Norman, and it wasn’t only because she was planning to pump him for information about his mystery patient. Norman wasn’t the kind of man to give a woman palpitations. To say his hairline was receding would be a kindness, and he was a little plump around the waist. But Hannah knew she could use a dose of his humor after the exhausting day she’d spent, and Norman was a very good friend. “Hi, Norman. I’m really glad you came over.”

“You are?” Norman seemed both surprised and pleased at the warmth of her greeting. “Before I forget, you were great tonight, Hannah. And you were pretty, too. That dress made your hair look like copper.”

“Thanks, Norman.” Hannah decided not to make a crack about copper and how it turned green. It was obvious that Norman had paid her a sincere compliment, and she didn’t want to spoil it. “Come on in. It’s cold out there and I’ve got my fake fireplace on.”