Sugar Cookie Murder (16 page)

“ ‘Bye, ladies. See you later, Michelle.” Hannah headed up the stairs to wait for her sisters. She waved at Lonnie, who was manning the outside door, and walked over to the grouping of chairs around the miniature Christmas village.

There was a large gilt-framed mirror on the wall behind the village and Hannah frowned as she caught sight of her hair. Her unruly red curls had been tousled by the wind and snow in the parking lot, and they looked as if they hadn’t seen the tender ministrations of a hairbrush in months. Hannah smoothed them down as best she could, and paused to admire the new sweater Norman had given her. It fell gracefully from her shoulders and came to just the right length in back to minimize that I-wish-it-were-smaller part of her anatomy.

“Gorgeous,” Hannah said, turning a bit so that he skirt swirled against her legs. But what was that bulge at her hips? She looked like an anatomically incorrect chipmunk with his cheeks lower than his waist.

Hannah reached in her pocket and drew out dozens of paper napkins, far too many for the lines of the sweater. Even though she’d folded them neatly and divided them between the two pockets, the piles had grown, and now her sweater pockets were ballooning with a plethora of paper Santas, reindeer, snowflakes, Christmas trees, angels, and snowmen. It was definitely time to scare up a steno pad, and she knew just the place to find one.

A few moments later, Hannah was standing at Janice’s desk in Kiddie Corner, begging office supplies. The younger kids were crowded around the Christmas tree in the corner, listening to one of the high school girls read a story, and the older children, like Tracey, had gone off to the library to watch a Disney movie with several high school seniors as chaperones.

“How about this?” Janice asked, pulling a neon-pink steno pad from her center desk drawer. “I know you like the green ones, but it’s all I have at the moment. Here’s the pen that goes with it. The Velcro attaches to the cover, see?”

“It’s just perfect,” Hannah said gratefully, even though she would have preferred something less conspicuous. It was exactly as Delores had taught her; beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“I’m glad you’re here, Hannah. I’ve got something I want to show you.” Janice opened a drawer and took out a stack of letters. “I had the older kids write letters to Santa, and the high school girls helped them with the spelling. Linda Nelson came up to tell me that Tracey had asked her to spell some very strange words for a letter to Santa.

“Like what?”

“Like blizzard. Linda didn’t think that was so odd, because we’re in the middle of one, but the next word Tracey wanted was detective. And then she asked Beth if body had two d’s or one.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Exactly. I looked it over, and I thought you should read it, too. I’m crazy about Tracey, but that girl is too smart for her own good!”

Hannah took the letter Janice handed her and sat down in one of the little chairs by the blackboard. The chair was so low that her knees almost touched her chin, but she barely noticed how uncomfortable she was once she started to read.

Dear Santa,

How are you? I am fine. I sure hope you remember me, what with all the kids who write to you this time of year. My name is Tracey Todd and I live in Lake Eden, Minnesota. My daddy’s the new sheriff of Winnetka County and my mommy’s a real estate professional. I asked you for a dollhouse last year and you gave it to me. it’s real nice.

I’m writing this to help my Aunt Hannah. You probably remember her. Those were her cookies that we left out under the tree for you. We’re all stuck here at the community center after the big recipe-testing Christmas party dinner. The food was great and it was fun, but we can’t go home. It’s supposed to be because of the big blizzard, but that’s not the real reason. Right after Edna Ferguson finished cutting the cakes, I saw Aunt Hannah come in from the parking lot and she had that look on her face. Then she pulled Uncle Mike (he’s Daddy’s most important detective) off in a corner so they could talk. They looked real worried, and that’s why I think Aunt Hannah found another body. She does that a lot. Anyways, they want all of us kids to stay busy writing letters to Santa, and watching movies, and things like that. I bet they figure that way nobody will guess what’s really wrong.

I better start writing my Christmas wish list now so you know what to bring me.

The first thin I want is for Mommy to have the new baby. She’s awful big, so could you please let her have it right away? I can tell Daddy’s worried about her and they’ll both be happy after the baby’s born. Mommy says he’s a boy and his name is Billy. That’s nice, but if you can still do it, could you please make Billy a girl? I’d much rather have a little sister.

The next thing I want is for Rose from Hal and Rose’s Café to give my Aunt Hannah her famous coconut cake recipe for the cookbook. Poor Aunt Hannah’s asked for it a bunch of times, but Rose won’t give it her. Could you get it, please? Tonight was supposed to be the last chance to test recipes for the cookbook, but Aunt Hannah’s editor is very nice, and I bet he’ll let her put it in.

This next thing is a big favor I need. I know this is your busy season, but if you have time, please talk to Uncle Mike. Tell him that Aunt Hannah would make a perfect wife and he should ask her. And then please talk to Uncle Norman. I want him to ask Aunt Hannah, too. That way she can make up her mind which one she likes best and I’ll get to be in another wedding. I’m already going to be in Lisa and Herb’s wedding. It was supposed to be on New Year’s Eve, but Lisa and Herb didn’t have time to do everything, so Lisa asked Mommy to help her. Now it’s on Valentine’s Day, and Mommy says I get to wear a beautiful red velvet dress and carry white roses with the thorns cut off.

There’s another thing I want, Santa. Mommy and Aunt Hannah are all worried about Grandma and Winthrop. They think he’s a crook. If he is, please make him leave Grandma alone. If he’s not, I guess it’s okay, even though I don’t like him very much.

I don’t really want anything else for Christmas except maybe a puppy. I think I’m gong to get that anyway, but not right away.

Love,

Tracey.

P.S. If it’s not a secret, will you tell me how you got my dollhouse inside our living room last Christmas? I know it’s too big to fit down the chimney. I measured.

“Sorry about that,” Hannah said, hurrying to the group of chairs where her sisters were sitting. ‘I got hung up at Kiddie Korner borrowing this steno pad.”

“Did you see Tracey?” Andrea asked.

“No, she was at the library watching a Disney movie with her friends.” Hannah opened her mouth to tell Andrea about the Santa letter, but she thought better of it and clamped her lips shut again. Andrea would only worry if she knew that Tracey had guessed about the murder. “Did you find anyone who knew Mary Kay Hinklemeyer?”

“Not a single person,” Andrea said, sounding very frustrated. “The closest I came was Joe Dietz. He said he served with a guy named Sam Hinklemeyer when he was in the army, but he was pretty sure Sam came from Idaho.”

“Same here, except I didn’t find anybody who knew any Hinklemeyers at all,” Michelle reported.

“Okay. Since we’re not going to get anywhere with that, let’s regroup.” Hannah reached into both of her sweater pockets and drew out the stacks of folded napkins. “The first thing to do is transfer these notes to the steno pad Janice gave me.”

Andrea picked up one of the napkins and attempted to read it. “Is this a blot from your pen, or food?”

“I don’t know. You take notes and I’ll read the napkins,” Hannah delegated, handing the pink notebook to Andrea. “You listen, Michelle, and if you think of something I missed, sing out.”

“Right.” Michelle got up to fetch the wastebasket that stood near the front door, pausing to give Lonnie a little pat on the arm before she returned. “Here, Hannah. After you read them, toss them in here.”

Hannah picked up the first napkin and squinted at it. Andrea was right. The ink had run, and the area where it had met a grease spot looked a lot like the first Rorschach card. “It looks like . . . “ Hannah resisted the urge to say a vase, or a mirror image of a person in profile. Instead she concentrated on making out the letters. “Kirby. It’s Kirby Welles. As far as I know, he was the last person to talk to Brandi before she was killed. Kirby told me he met Brandi in the cloakroom shortly after seven-thirty.”

“That was right after she went to the ladies’ room with me,” Michelle pointed out. “Better write that down, too.”

Andrea looked a bit exasperated. “I’ve got it. Actually, I’ve got it in two places. I’m making a timeline here. What time did you go to the ladies’ room, Michelle?”

“A quarter after seven. I looked at my watch.”

“Okay, Brandi was at the table with Martin until seven-fifteen. Then she went to the ladies room with Michelle. You talked to her until seven-thirty, Michelle?”

“That’s right. I was asking her questions about her life in Vegas.”

“And you learned what?”

“Hold on!” Hannah complained, “I’m looking for a toy soldier here.”

“You’re what?” both younger sisters asked in perfect unison.

“A toy soldier. I used a napkin with a toy soldier on it to write down what Michelle told me. here it is!” Hannah held her disreputable prize aloft and waved it like a flag.

“It’s falling apart,” Andrea commented.

Michelle agreed. “And somebody spilled frosting on it and it’s all stuck together in one corner.”

“I can still read it,” Hannah insisted, spreading it out with the care of someone who was performing open-heart surgery on an ant. “It says, ring, green stone, diamond surround, M. afraid plus coat show-off.”

“You saw the ring,” Michelle said to Andrea, “so you can give a better description than mine. And that other part is Hannah’s shorthand telling us that Martin didn’t want Brandi to wear the ring. He told her it was because she had the fur coat and he though two expensive items like that might make people resentful.”

“People like Shirley,” Hannah pointed out, “who admitted that she told Martin she’d do anything she could to help him get rid of Brandi so that they could get remarried.”

“Motive!” Michelle cried out.

“Alibi,” Hannah countered. “Shirley was with Martin in that little room under the stairs at the time that Brandi was killed. The fact that they were together means that both of them are in the clear.”

“I’ve got all that,” Andrea said, putting down her pen and massaging her fingers. “Let’s get back to the timeline. Do you know what time Brandi was killed?”

“I found her at eight-fifteen, and Doc Knight didn’t think she’d been out there for more than thirty minutes. That puts the time of death anywhere from a quarter to eight to when I found her.”

“Seven forty-five to eight-fifteen,” Andrea repeated, her pen racing across the page, whose color had certainly been modeled after the inside of a Pepto Bismol bottle. “That really narrows is down. How about Kirby? Why didn’t he talk to Brandi in the cloakroom?”

“She asked him to meet her there.”

“So that’s why she kept looking at her watch!” Michelle spoke up, and Hannah couldn’t help thinking that if her youngest sister were a cartoon character, a light bulb would have gone off in the little balloon over her head. “I thought she was worried about getting back to Martin, but she must have told Kirby what time to meet her.”

“Makes sense,” Hannah said.

“What did they talk about?” Andrea asked, her pen at the ready.

“Old friends they knew in high school and . . .”

“Kirby went to high school with Brandi?” Andrea asked, coming very close to dropping her pen.

“Yes, with Mary Kay Hinklemeyer. She was Kirby’s first girlfriend.”

“I’ll be!” Michelle breathed. “Do you think he killed her because she married Martin instead of him?”

Hannah shook her head. “It’s not feasible. For one thing, I’m almost sure that the jazz ensemble was playing the entire time, and I already know that they wouldn’t have sounded good without Kirby. And for another thing, Kirby wasn’t jealous.”

“Are you sure?” Andrea asked.

“I’m positive. You see, Brandi told Kirby she was leaving Martin. She was going to take his car out of the parking lot and drive it to the Minneapolis airport. From there she was going to fly to the Bahamas, and she asked Kirby to go with her.”

“That’s . . .romantic,” Michelle breathed.

“It’s also money-grubbing, illegal, and immoral,” Hannah reminded her. “Brandi told Kirby they could live like kings if she sold her ring and mink coat. And . . .her antique knife.”

“What antique . . .” Andrea started to ask, but she stopped, and this time the light bulb could have gone on over her head. “You mean Mother’s antique cake knife?’

“One and the same.”

“So Brandi stole it?” Michelle asked, frowning slightly.

“That’s a likely scenario.”

“And the killer managed to take it away from Brandi and stab her?” Andrea asked, paling slightly at the thought.

“That’s part of the same scenario. Hold on a second and let me find the caroling penguins. That’s where I wrote the list of suspects.”

Hannah paged through the remaining paper napkins, reading off several notes to Andrea. There was their conversation with Shirley, her meeting with Martin, and their mother’s grilling of Mayor Bascomb and how he admitted that he’d seen Brandi’s strip show and hired her for a “date” he was too drunk to keep.

“And I really thought she was a showgirl,” Michelle said with a sigh. “I feel really awful about all those questions I asked her.”

Hannah slipped a comforting arm around her youngest sister’s shoulder. “I’m sorry she disappointed you, Michelle.”

“Oh, she didn’t disappoint me, not exactly. But if she’d admitted that she was stripper who partied on the side, I would have asked her a whole different set of questions and tried out for an entirely different part in the play!”

Ten minutes later, they had reached an impasse. Hannah had found the caroling penguins, but every single suspect except the unknown suspect with an unknown motive had been eliminated.

“What now?” Hannah asked, throwing out the question and hoping that one of her sisters would have an answer.