Sugar Cookie Murder (12 page)

“I think so. I’m just sick about it, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry I was so descriptive. I shouldn’t have mentioned that part about the lining.”

“It’s not that. I was just thinking about what a waste it is. Martin probably couldn’t afford that coat in the first place and now he can’t even sell it back to furrier.” Andrea stopped and looked thoughtful. ‘I wonder if a really good dry cleaner could get out Brandi’s blood.”

“Maybe. Forget about the coat. When you were talking to Brandi and Martin, did you learn anything personal about her?”

Andrea thought about that for a moment and then she shook her head. “Not really. All she could talk about was how she’d given up her career to marry Martin.”

“Did she mention where she worked?”

“No, I was listening for that. She didn’t really give me any information at all, not even how old she was. It was like she didn’t want anybody to know anything about her.”

“That’s interesting.”

“That’s what I thought. It was almost like she was in the witness protection program, or something like that. She just didn’t say anything about her background. She did tell me all about their wedding, though. An Elvis look-alike performed the ceremony, and they did it at three in the morning at some wedding chapel on the Strip.”

“Do you remember the name of the chapel?”

“I don’t think she mentioned it. She just talked about how good the minister’s Southern accent was and how much he sounded like the real Elvis when he got out his guitar and sang Love Me Tender in honor of their marriage.”

“The theme song from Titanic would have been more appropriate,” Hannah muttered, and immediately felt mean for saying it. Brandi might have been an opportunistic stripper who’d latched onto Martin for what she could get, but she certainly hadn’t deserved to die.

“So what do you want me to do first?”

Andrea’s question brought Hannah back to the here and now. “Will you try to find Shirley Dubinski? I really need to talk to her. Just give me the high sign when you do and I’ll come over to you.”

“You don’t want me to tell her about Brandi, do you?”

“Absolutely no. Mike said to keep it under wraps. He’s hoping that the killer will say or do something incriminating.”

The color fled from Andrea’s cheeks. “You mean . . . Mike thinks the killer’s still here?”

“Yes. That’s why it’s so important to be on our toes.”

“I will be . . . at least metaphorically,” Andrea said, levering herself out of the chair.

“You mean figuratively.”

“Whatever. I’ll go look for Shirley, but first I’m going to get another helping of dessert. I have a feeling I’m going to need all the chocolate I can get.”

With Andrea off locating Shirley, Hannah looked around for Michelle. She found her youngest sister sitting at the table that Lonnie had recently vacated.

Michelle stood up to greet her and whispered in Hannah’s ear, “Murder?”

“How do you know?”

“Lonnie’s upstairs guarding the front entrance, Mike’s talking to people in the room down the hall with the door closed, and every time I look around for you, you’re either deep in conversation with Andrea, or you’re running around like a chicken with your head cut off.”

“It’s true I was talking to Andrea, but I’m not running around like a chicken with its head cut off.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m . . . well, maybe I am,” Hannah conceded. “Do you want to help us investigate?”

“Of course I do. Who got killed?”

“Brandi. Did you get to talk to her?”

“Right after I left Mother and Winthrop. And we need to talk about him later. Anyway, I got over to Martin and Brandi’s table just as she was excusing herself to go to the ladies’ room.”

“And you went along?”

“Of course. You know how that goes here in Minnesota . . . you can’t go alone.”

“I know,” Hannah frowned slightly. She’d never understood why women had to go into the ladies’ room in pairs, but that’s the way it was in the Midwest.

“Brandi was talkative once we got away from Martin and the other people at the table.”

“What did she say?”

“A lot. She married Martin only five hours after she met him, and she grew up not very far from here.”

Hannah appropriated someone’s fairly clean napkin, turned it wrong side out so she didn’t have to write around the garlands of holly, and grabbed the pen she’d stuck behind her ear. “Did Brandi say where?”

“No, but she remembered the Quick Stop when it was still a bar and she said she wished the Tri-County Mall had been built when she was living here.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes. Brandi’s real name is Mary.”

“Mary what?”

”She didn’t say. All she told me was that she ran away from home when she was sixteen, hitched a ride to Vegas with a trucker who was driving straight through, and ended up living with an older guy who ran a tattoo parlor until she landed her job dancing.”

“Anything else?” Hannah asked. It seemed that Michelle had inherited the family trait of being able to get information from a stone.

“She told me a lot. Do you want to know what Brandi’s first roommate talked her into piercing?”

“I don’t think so,” Hannah answered quickly. “I think I could live a very long time without that particular information.”

“That’s probably best. But Brandi was very forthcoming — even showed me her tattoos — probably because I complimented her on her dress.”

“That was smart,” Hannah said, giving her sister a smile.

“It was just that she seemed to want to talk and I was non-threatening. She said she’d forgotten what small towns were like, how boring it was because there wasn’t anything to do at night, and how everybody knew everybody’ else’s business.”

“That’s all true. What else did she say?”

“She was upset because she had a fight with Martin on the way to the community center.”

Hannah readied her pen. This could be pay dirt. “Do you know what the fight was about?”

“Yes. Brandi wanted to wear her engagement ring tonight to show it off, and Martin said she shouldn’t.”

Hannah thought back to when she’d joined Brandi and Martin at the table. Try as she could, she couldn’t remember anything about Brandi’s engagement ring. “Did you see the ring?”

“You bet, and it was beautiful!”

“Could you be a little more descriptive?” Hannah asked, her pen hovering over the napkin.

Michelle sighed, shrugging slightly. “I’m sorry, Hannah. I really don’t know that much about gemstones.”

“Just describe it the best you can.”

“There was a big green stone in the center and it had what looked to me like diamonds around it.” Michelle looked up, meeting Hannah’s eyes. “Do you want to know why Martin didn’t want Brandi to wear it?”

“Of course I do.”

“Well . . . Martin was afraid that people would think she was showing off it they saw Brandi in her fur coat and an expensive engagement ring.”

Hannah thought about that for a moment and then she refolded the napkin, stuck it in her sweater pocket, and perched the pen behind her ear. “Okay. I think you ought to go upstairs and tell Mike what you learned from Brandi.”

“Are you kidding?” Michelle looked shocked. “What’s going on, Hannah? I thought you liked to keep the results of your questioning to yourself.”

“I do . . . usually. But it’s different tonight. Mike’s really short-handed and I want to help him.”

“Okay, if you say so.” Michelle didn’t look convinced, but she let Hannah lead her up the stairs and down the hall to the room that Mike had commandeered. “Should I tell him everything?”

“Everything,” Hannah said, feeling generous. Shawna Lee was gone, perhaps never to return, and Mike was all hers if she wanted him. She thought she did, at least partially. And unless Mike got high-handed and told her to back off on his investigation, she’d help him all that she could.

Hannah chatted with a few people while she was waiting for Andrea to find Shirley. She was on a fishing expedition for reactions to Martin’s new wife without letting anyone know that Brandi was dead. Most women thought it was a shame that Martin had brought his younger, more glamorous wife to the party, since it was bound to upset Shirley. Most men just shrugged and claimed they really didn’t have an opinion, but Hannah saw the gleam in their eyes, and she knew that Brandi had made an impression even if they wouldn’t admit it in front of their wives.

“I’m sorry, but I have to run. Andrea’s waving at me,” Hannah said, spotting Andrea and Shirley behind the dessert table and excusing herself from a conversation with Immelda Giese, Father Coultas’s housekeeper. A devout Catholic, Immelda had just told Hannah that despite the tenets of Christian charity, she thought Shirley should scratch Brandi’s eyes out.

Hannah arrived at her sister’s side slightly winded. People were still hovering in front of the dessert table, and she’d had to excuse herself more times than she could count. She turned to Shirley and smiled. “I’m glad Andrea found you. We really need to talk.”

“What about?” Shirley asked.

“Martin. And Brandi.”

“Oh,” Shirley said, drawing a deep breath and looking a lot like Moishe the last time he’d tipped over his litter box.

“Where were you for the past hour?”

“Do you really need to know?”

“Yes, I do.” Hannah put on the most no-nonsense expression she had, the same one she’d used when she’d told Moishe never to tip over his litter box again. It hadn’t worked with him, but she hoped it might work with Shirley.

“Well . . . “ Shirley clasped her hands together and gave a deep sigh. “I guess I’d better confess.”

Andrea gasped, and Hannah gave her a waning glance. “Confess to what, Shirley?”

“I still love Martin and he still loves me. that’s why we were together for the past hour. When Brandi went to the ladies’ room, he came over to our table and talked to us for a few minutes. Then he said he needed to talk to me in private, and we went to that space under the stairs where they store all the tables and chairs.”

“What happened once you got there?” Hannah asked, hoping she wasn’t about to hear something risqué.

“Martin said he had a real problem on his hands, that he’d made an awful mistake.”

“His marriage?” Andrea asked.

“That’s right. He said he was a fool not to realize how much he still loved me. and then he said that just as soon as he could get rid of Brandi, he wanted to marry me again.”

“He said he was going to get rid of Brandi?” Hannah repeated, picking up on that ominous phrase.

“Yes, right away. And I said I’d help him any way I could.”

“Oh, boy!” Hannah sighed, glancing over at her sister who looked equally distressed. “Did you tell anybody else about the conversation you had with Martin?”

“Of course I didn’t. It was private, just between Martin and me. And I knew that if I repeated it, Brandi would be embarrassed. You girls have known me for a long time now. I’m not the sort of person to embarrass anyone in public.”

“Actually . . . you couldn’t embarrass Brandi if you tried,” Hannah said, deciding it was time to cue Shirley in.

“Why not?”

“Because Brandi’s dead. She was killed out in the parking lot.”

“What?” Shirley gasped, swaying slightly on the heels of her boots and looking completely dumbfounded. She just stared at Hannah for a long moment and then she asked, “Was she in an accident?”

Hannah gestured to Andrea who grabbed Shirley’s arm to steady her for the next bout of bad, or good news, depending on your perspective. “It wasn’t an accident. Brandi was murdered.”

“That’s . . . that’s horrible! You must have thought I was awful when I was talking about getting rid of her. I meant that Martin was going to divorce her, that’s all.”

“We were sure that was all you meant,” Andrea comforted her.

“Murder,” Shirley repeated, her voice quivering slightly as she looked up at Hannah. “When did it happen?”

“Almost an hour ago.”

”At least no one can blame Martin! I was with him the whole time except for the past twenty minutes or so.”

“Then you alibi each other,” Andrea pointed out. “Nobody can suspect you, either.”

“Thank goodness for that! Does Martin know yet?”

“I’m sure he does, by now,” Hannah said. “I took him up to see Mike about ten minutes ago and he’s probably still there. It’s that little conference room right next to the library. Why don’t you run upstairs and confirm Martin’s alibi?’

“I’ll do that right now.”

“Good. And don’t mention it to anyone else on your way up there. Mike’s trying to keep everything under wraps for now.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

Hannah watched Shirley as she threaded through the crowds of people and reached the stairs. True to her word, Shirley hadn’t stopped to talk to anyone.

“I guess you can cross her off,” Andrea said, “and Martin, too. Who’s left?”

Hannah reached into her pocket and pulled out the crumpled napkin she’d been using for notes, instead of her steno pad. “Babs, and Laura Jorgensen. Let’s get Babs first.”

Babs Dubinski was easy to find. She was still sitting at the same table, drinking coffee and eating a piece of Andrea’s Jell-O Cake. “Hello, girls. This is a wonderful cake. It’s so moist, and it’s pretty, too.”

“Thank you. It’s my recipe.” Andrea gave her a big smile, and it was clear she was pleased. “Did you have some of Hannah and Lisa’s Christmas Sugar Cookies? I think they’re my favorites.”

Babs gestured toward a red and green dessert plate with a few cookie crumbs on it. “I had a star. It was delicious.”

“I need to ask you some questions,” Hannah spoke up before the discussion of desserts could continue.

“You look serious, Hannah. Is there something wrong?”

“I’m afraid so. Can you tell me where you’ve been for the past hour?”

“Me? Well . . .right here, mostly. Martin came over and talked to us for a while. And then, after he left with Shirley, I went back for some of Kitty’s Salmon Loaf. On the way back, I stopped to talk to a couple of people, and then after Mayor Bascomb made his announcement, I got in line at the dessert table. I went to the ladies’ room, too. I almost forgot about that. And . . . I really can’t account for every minute, Hannah. Is it important?”