Sugar Cookie Murder (10 page)

It took awhile, but at last Hannah knew she’d left no metaphorical stone unturned. She’d been so thorough. She would have sworn on a stack of Bibles that her mother’s cake knife was not in the Lake Eden Community Center kitchen. Hannah headed for a stool at one of the center work islands. She had to tell Delores the bad news before she discovered it for herself. There was no way Hannah would shirk that duty, but she did need time to think of a way to phrase the message that wouldn’t immediately result in the death of the messenger.

Delivering bad news had never been one of her skills. Hannah tended to blurt things out, a bit like jerking a bandage from a wound rather than inching the tape off. She didn’t think she was quite as outspoken as Edna, but people weren’t that far wrong when they accused her of having no tact.

The pantry door was open slightly and Hannah noticed that the light was on. She hadn’t bothered to check the pantry, because she’d assumed that no one had used it. Since it was a potluck dinner, everyone had brought in fully cooked dishes. Edna and her helpers had simply kept things warm or chilled, depending on the dish, until it was time to serve.

Hannah’s mind spun, imagining a possible scenario. Someone who’d brought in a dessert suddenly realized they’d forgotten powdered sugar to sprinkled over the top. Rather than rush home to get it, the frantic cook stepped into the community center pantry hoping to borrow some. Had that person also picked up the antique cake knife, intending to use it to slice her dessert? It was certainly possible . . .perhaps unlikely, but still possible.

Rising quickly, Hannah hurried to the pantry and opened the door. A quick scan of the neatly stocked shelves disproved the theory that had seemed plausible only moments ago. The cake knife was nowhere in sight. Hannah was about to turn off the light and step back out into the kitchen when she noticed that the dead bolt on the door to the parking lot wasn’t locked.

Hannah opened the door and took a step outside. Through the blowing snow, she could see the icy hulks of parked cars. This was the delivery entrance and since it opened onto the parking lot, it would be a perfect escape route for a thief. If someone really had stolen her mother’s antique knife and ducked out to the parking lot through this door, they’d be long gone by now.

A blast of cold wind carrying icy needles of snow made her shiver. Hannah was about to step back into the warmth of the pantry when she noticed something bulky on the ground between two of the parked cars. It looked furry, like some sort of animal, but it was too small for a bear, and too large for a dog.

Curiosity trickled, gathered force, and grew into a mighty waterfall. There was no way Hannah could turn around and go back inside without finding out what kind of animal was in the parking lot. She headed out at a trot, glad that she was wearing her all-purpose footwear, the moosehide moccasin boots that were so politically incorrect with people who’d never even seen a moose . . . or smelled one, for that matter.

Hannah’s sweater was dusted with flakes of snow by the time she got close enough to see. She bent over to examine the large lump of fur, and reached out to steady herself on the nearest car. The animal she thought she’d seen had been made into an expensive fur coat that Martin’s new wife was wearing. The only other animal in sight was the reindeer sugar cookie that was broken in near Brandi’s feet, along with the pieces of a Christmas tree cookie, and a bell decorated in red and green icing. Brandi must have taken several cookies from the dessert table and come out here to eat them. The big question was, did she also take the antique cake knife?

Hoping that she’d just slipped and fallen, Hannah reached down to tap Brandi on the shoulder. “Brandi? Do you need help getting up?”

There was no answer and Hannah began to frown. This didn’t look good. “Brandi?” she called again, shaking her a little harder and wondering if she should go for help. The former dancer wasn’t moving, but she could be faking it. If Hannah left her alone and Brandi had the cake knife, she might make a run for it with the valuable antique.

Hannah knew that it was dangerous to move someone who had undetermined injuries. Accident victims had died from the ministrations of well-meaning bystanders who had tried to move them without backboards and stabilizing collars. Hannah certainly wouldn’t risk moving Brandi, but she’d taken a first aid class in college and she knew there was a pulse point just under the jawbone on the side of a person’s neck.

The collar of Brandi’s coat was in the way and Hannah pushed it back. This caused the coat to fall open and Hannah gave a strangled gulp as she caught sight of Brandi’s chest.

Hannah felt for a pulse, even though her rational mind told her it was useless. No one could live with a wound that deep. She’d just straightened up, dizzy and slightly sick to her stomach at the sight of the blood that had been soaked up by the expensive fur, when the pantry door banged open and she heard Edna’s voice.

“Hannah? Are you out there?”

“I’m here.”

“Did you find the knife?”

Hannah glanced down at her mother’s valuable antique knife, buried to the hilt in Brandi’s too-perfectly-proportioned-to-be-natural chest. “I found it.”

“Thank the Lord,” Edna shouted out gratefully. “Bring it here before your mother realizes it’s missing.”

Hannah considered that for a moment. The urge to jerk the knife out of Brandi’s chest and head for the kitchen at a run was strong. But equally strong was the awareness of her civic duty. Brandi didn’t stab herself, and that meant murder. And disturbing a crime scene by removing the murder weapon was a big no-no. “Sorry, Edna. . . I can’t bring it in.”

“Why not?”

“Because Brandi’s got it.” And with that said, Hannah turned and headed back to the kitchen to explain.

Once she’d told Edna what had happened and sworn her to secrecy, Hannah went back into the banquet room and tapped Mike on the shoulder.

“Hi, Hannah,” Mike said, smiling up at her. “How are the desserts coming?”

“The desserts are fine. The dessert knife isn’t. You need to come with me. there’s something you have to know.”

“Now?” Mike asked, looking down longingly at his helping of Sauerbraten.

“Right now,” Hannah said, practically dragging him from his chair. “I’ll have Edna save your plate for you. Take your jacket.”

“We’re going outside?”

“Just smile, Mike. I don’t want anyone to think there’s something wrong.”

“But there is something wrong?”

“Oh, yes,” Hannah confirmed it, leading him into the kitchen and handing his plate to Edna. “Will you save this for Mike? And can I borrow your parka?”

“ ‘Course,” Edna said, slipping Mike’s plate into the microwave and gesturing toward the stool that held her parka.

“Another murder in the pantry?” Mike asked, as Hannah opened the pantry door.

“No.”

“Good! For a second there, I thought history was repeating itself. So there’s no dead body this time?”

“I didn’t say that.” Hannah opened the delivery door and grabbed Mike’s arm. “There’s a dead body, but this time it’s in the parking lot.”

Things moved fast once Mike took charge of the crime scene. He used Hannah as an errand girl, sending her in for Doc Knight, who was just finishing a double helping of Esther’s Meatloaf.

Doc took his time examining the body, and then he looked up at Mike. “Okay. I’m through for now.”

“Time of death?” Mike asked, flipping open this notebook.

“I’d say no longer than thirty minutes ago, give or take ten.”

“Is it murder?” Hannah asked, moving slightly closer. She’d been standing as far away as she could while Doc examined Brandi’s body.

Doc looked over at her and raised his eyebrows. “Well, it’s certainly not a suicide.”

“Why’s that?”

“A woman who intends to kill herself doesn’t usually choose to do it with an antique cake knife on the coldest night of the year in a parking lot.”

“Too bad it’s snowing,” Mike said, staring down at the drift that was beginning to pile up around Brandi’s body. “Any tracks the killer left are long gone by now. At least we know one thing for certain.”

“What’s that?” Doc Knight asked.

“The killer went back inside after he stabbed Brandi.”

Hannah’s jaw dropped open for a second and then she closed it with an audible clack. “How do you know that?”

“There’s no way anybody drove over that snowdrift at the exit. It’s just too deep. And if they’d tried to walk over it, they would have sunk down to their eyeballs. I’m almost positive that nobody has come or gone from this lot since I got back.”

“But how do you know for certain that Brandi was alive when you got back here?” Hannah posed the important question.

“I was looking around for you and I noticed her.”

Hannah wasn’t sure whether she should be flattered, or angry. Mike had just admitted he’d been looking for her, but he’d noticed Brandi. Was that a plus or a minus in the grand scheme of things?

“Uh-oh,” Doc Knight said, reaching for the cell phone in his pocket. “They weren’t supposed to call me unless it was an emergency.”

Hannah and Mike stood there trying to pretend they weren’t listening as Doc Knight took the call. Of course they couldn’t help but hear what he said. Other than the occasional whoosh as the wind picked up and blew snow against the parked cars, nothing else was happening out here in the parking lot.

“Appendectomy,” Doc said, returning his phone to his pocket. “I’ve got to go. Do you want me to send my paramedics for the body?”

“Yes,” Mike said. “We’ll preserve the crime scene until they get here.”

“I’ll send them just as soon as I get back to the hospital. I don’t want her to freeze before the autopsy.”

Hannah shuddered and it wasn’t from the cold. Even though she knew that Brandi was dead, she’d prefer not to think about her freezing.

“Thanks, Doc,” Mike reached out to clap him on the shoulder. “You’re not parked back here, are you?”

“I double-parked in front. I figured that if I had to get out, it would be a medical emergency. And it is. Gonna give me a ticket?”

“No way,” Mike said, deferring to the Winnetka County coroner. “You’ve got a county exempt placard on your dash. That entitles you to park wherever you want.”

“But I don’t park illegally unless I really need to. That would be misusing the power of the office. I take it you want me to keep mum about what happened out here?”

“That would be best until I get it sorted out. Do you want me to come with you to make sure your car starts? Hannah can stay here with the body.”

Hannah bit her tongue so she wouldn’t say anything. There was no way she wanted to stay here with the body, but it was pretty clear she didn’t get a vote.

“No, that’s all right. My truck can get through just about anything, and I’ve got my cell phone if I run into trouble. Earl Flensburg’s on call with his tow truck, and he’ll come right out to get me.”

Hannah waited until Doc Knight had left, and then she turned to Mike. “Would you really have made me stay out here with . . . .with her? All by myself?”

“Why not?” Mike asked, clearly puzzled. “You were out here with her before. And you were by yourself.”

“I know, but I didn’t know she was dead then. It’s different when you know they’re dead.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Mike said, but he put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a little squeeze. “Sorry, Hannah. Sometimes I forget you’re not one of the guys.”

The arm around the shoulders was nice, and the squeeze was nice. But forgetting she was a woman wasn’t nice at all. Still, two out of three wasn’t that horrible, and Hannah snuggled a little closer. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“You bet. Could you go back inside and tell Rick Murphy to come out here?”

“Sure.” Hannah shoved her hands in Edna’s parka pockets. The wind was starting to blow harder and her fingers felt numb. “Anything else?”

“Find Lonnie and put him in charge of securing the perimeter, one guard for every outside door. No one leaves, not without running it past me.”

“Got it,” Hannah said, resisting the urge to salute.

“Actually . . .nobody should leave anyway.”

“Why not?”

“The wind’s picking up. This could turn into a real blizzard and it’s just not safe. Some of these folks have a long ways to go on country roads.”

“You’re right,” Hannah said. Strong winds whipping up snow from flat stretches of landscape could make the roads impassible in the space of a few minutes. The snow could swirl so fiercely, a driver could lose sight of the road. Sense of direction was the next thing to go, and that was when people ended up in the ditch. “I’ll tell Lonnie not to let anyone leave. Anything else?”

“I want only the essential people to know that Brandi’s dead. If the killer doesn’t know that her body’s been found, he may do or say something to give himself away.”

“You mean . . .you really think the killer’s still here, sitting around waiting for dessert?!”

“I’m almost positive he is.”

“But how do you know he wasn’t parked in front? He could have waltzed back inside, made some excuse about having to leave early, and gone out through the front door as big as you please.”

“Maybe, but when I came back in after seeing Kurt on his way, I noticed that Lisa and Herb were sitting at a table in the lobby eating their dinner. They would have seen anyone who left.”

“Do you want me to ask them?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. How about Bill? Are you going to try to contact him?”

“Of course. I’ll call dispatch and they’ll find him.” Mike took his arm from Hannah’s shoulder and turned her to face him. “Now do you want to go inside and take care of all those things for me? Or have you changed your mind and do you want to stay here with . . . “

“I’m going, I’m going,” Hannah said, heading for the kitchen door at a pace that would have done a runner proud.

“Excuse me, Lonnie.” Hannah tapped him on the shoulder. “Could I speak to you for a minute? You too, Rick.”

Once she’d pulled the Murphy deputies to the side and delivered Mike’s messages, Rick headed out to the parking lot to relieve his superior, and Lonnie quickly found enough personnel to man the exits. Since Lonnie had decided to take the front door himself, Hannah headed up the stairs with him to quiz Herb and Lisa about anyone who’d gone out or come in.