Chapter Sixteen
Hannah groaned as she approached Andrea and Bill’s table. Somehow Delores and Carrie had found them, and both mothers were looking impatient. She felt like turning around and going back to the ladies’ powder room, but her mother raised her hand and wiggled her fingers. It was too late. She’d been spotted.
“There you are, dear!” Delores gave her a wide smile. “We’re ready to take the pictures now.”
“That’s just wonderful.” Hannah’s reply sounded sarcastic, even to her own ears, and she smiled to take the edge off her words. She glanced at Norman. He didn’t look at all upset about the upcoming photo session, but perhaps he was one of those lucky people who were photogenic. Hannah knew she wasn’t. No trick of the light or instruction from the photographer could make her look good on Kodak paper.
The mothers led the way across the room. Norman left Hannah to take his mother’s arm, and Bill followed suit with Delores. Hannah pulled Andrea back just a bit so that she could apologize. “I’m sorry, Andrea. I didn’t mean to be gone so long.”
“That’s okay. You were right, Hannah. Some of the things that Norman said were really funny. We were having a good time until the mothers found us. They want us to pose, too.”
“Great.” Hannah was more than happy to have company in her misery. “Maybe you’ll make me look good by osmosis or something.”
Andrea laughed. “Come on, Hannah. You know you look wonderful tonight. That dress is so perfect on you, it even makes your hair look nice.”
“Thanks…I think.” Hannah grinned. Then she realized that the mother brigade was turning down the hallway that led to the ladies’ powder room. “Where are they going?”
“I’m not sure. Mrs. Rhodes said she found the perfect setting for the pictures. I just hope we’re not going to barge into someplace we shouldn’t be.”
The group stopped at the end of the hall and waited for Hannah and Andrea to catch up. Then Carrie opened a door and ushered them into a large room lined with bookshelves. It was done in a masculine style, with leather couches and armchairs, a massive wooden desk, and hunting prints on the walls. There was an incredible river-rock fireplace in the corner, and Hannah stared at it in awe.
“This is Del Woodley’s den,” Carrie announced.
“Should we be in here?” Bill looked very uneasy. “I mean, it’s not off-limits to the guests, is it?”
Carrie shook her head. “I asked him and he said it was perfectly all right.”
Hannah exchanged an amused glance with Andrea. Norman’s mother was a lot like Delores. Not only had Carrie waltzed into Lake Eden’s only formal affair with her camera, she’d even asked their host if they could use one of his private rooms to take pictures.
“Stand over by the fireplace with Bill.” Delores motioned to Andrea. “We’ll do yours first, just in case Bill gets called away.”
Hannah watched as her sister posed with Bill. Then Carrie decided that the two couples should stand together, and Hannah and Norman joined them. They arranged themselves obediently—Hannah and Andrea in front, Norman and Bill in back, while Carrie clicked away. Then she took another series with the four of them lined up in a row like soldiers, the “girls” in the center flanked by the two “boys.”
“Let’s take a few on the couch,” Delores suggested. “That always looks nice.”
Hannah suffered through more photos, wondering how soon Norman’s mother would run out of film. As soon as this ordeal was over, she had to pull Bill aside and bring him up to speed. Bill was tracing Ron’s movements on the morning of the murder and he didn’t know that Ron had gone into the dairy at six-fifteen and seen Max Turner in his office. It might not relate to Ron’s murder at all, but it was a new piece of information and Bill could ask Max about his early-morning meeting.
“You look distracted, dear.” Delores waggled a finger at her. “Concentrate on looking pretty and say cheese.”
“Gorgonzola,” Hannah muttered under her breath, and Andrea started to giggle.
“You’re moving, Andrea,” Delores warned. “Carrie can’t focus if you’re moving.”
Hannah rolled her eyes just as Norman’s mother snapped the picture. Didn’t Delores know that most cameras were auto-focus these days? If she had to endure another minute of flashes and admonitions about smiling from her mother, she was going to explode in sheer frustration.
“We’d better take that one again.” Delores turned to Carrie. “I think Hannah squinted.”
Just as Hannah was about to rebel, Norman stood and held up his hands. “That’s enough, Mother. Sit on the couch with Mrs. Swensen and I’ll take a couple of you.”
“Turnabout’s fair play,” Hannah murmured to Andrea as they stood off to the side and watched Norman take pictures of their mothers. “Let’s tell Mother her lipstick’s on crooked.”
Andrea looked horrified at the thought. “Don’t! Then she’ll have to get out her mirror and fix it, and that’ll take even longer.”
Hannah was about to point out that they’d taken enough pictures to paper the entire back wall in her shop, when she heard a low beeping noise. She turned to Bill and asked, “Is that your pager?”
Bill retrieved his pager from his pocket. He glanced at the display and frowned. “I’ve got to call in.”
“You don’t have to go, do you?” Andrea grabbed at his sleeve. “We haven’t even danced yet.”
Bill gave her a little hug. “I know, but the dispatcher punched in the emergency code. Where’s the nearest phone?”
“Right here.” Hannah pointed to the one next to the couch. “Go ahead, Bill. We want to know what’s happening.”
Bill punched out the number and talked to someone at the sheriff’s station. Hannah listened to his end of the conversation, but Okay, right away, and I’ll do that didn’t tell her much.
“There’s a big accident out on the interstate,” Bill informed them as he hung up the phone. “They’re calling everyone in.”
“Shall I take you?” Andrea offered.
“No, you can stay. I’ll catch a ride out with one of the other guys.” Bill patted her shoulder. “Have a good time for me, okay?”
Reading the glum expression on Andrea’s face, Hannah doubted that she was going to have a good time without Bill, but her sister nodded. “Okay, honey. Be careful and I’ll see you at home.”
After Bill left, they all trooped back to the party. Hannah had seen Norman rewind the film and drop it into his pocket, and she was curious. “Are you going to put the film in the night drop at the drugstore, Norman?”
“No.” Norman shook his head. “I’ll develop it myself when I get home. I just finished setting up my darkroom.”
“You’re a photographer?”
“Just an amateur. I caught the bug when I was in Seattle. It’s a great hobby. I’ll bring the prints by The Cookie Jar on my lunch break tomorrow so you can see them.”
The orchestra was playing by the time they reentered the ballroom, and Norman asked Hannah to dance. She couldn’t refuse without seeming rude and Hannah found herself suffering through an agonizingly slow waltz. Norman was, at best, a tentative dancer and Hannah really wanted to lead. But she didn’t want to hurt Norman’s feelings and she endured their dance with a smile on her face.
When the dance had ended, Norman escorted her back to Andrea and their mothers. As they were standing there talking, Hannah spotted Betty Jackson. She wanted to ask Betty if she knew about Max Turner’s early meeting, but Bill wouldn’t like it if she dragged Norman along.
“Would you like to dance again, Hannah?” Norman offered, holding out his arm.
Hannah tried not to flinch at the thought. There was no way she wanted to dance with Norman again. She was just trying to think of a tactful excuse when she had a brilliant idea. “Why don’t you ask Andrea? I heard her tell Bill that she wanted to dance.”
“Good idea.” Norman turned to Andrea with a smile. “How about it, Andrea? Would you like to dance?”
Andrea shot Hannah a wounded look as she danced off with Norman, and Hannah knew she’d have some explaining to do. She’d point out that dancing with Norman, no matter how painful, was better than getting stuck with the mothers.
Betty was standing near the orchestra, tapping her foot in time with the music. She looked as if she wanted to dance, but it was doubtful that any of the local men would ask her. Betty was what Hannah and her friends in high school had unkindly called “heavy-duty.” She weighed close to three hundred pounds and she wasn’t known for her grace on the dance floor. Hannah’s father had once quipped that a man needed steel-toed boots to dance with Betty, and more than one man in Lake Eden had nursed an injured foot after an obligatory turn around the floor with her.
As always, Betty was dressed in vertical stripes. Someone must have once told her that they were slenderizing and they might have been, for someone less bulky. Betty’s stripes were wide tonight, and they were dark green and burgundy. The colors were pretty, but that didn’t stop Betty from resembling the side of a circus tent. As she walked closer, Hannah made a mental vow to go on a diet and shed the ten extra pounds she’d been carrying around since last Christmas.
“Hi, Betty,” Hannah called out a cheerful greeting. Since there was no one else around, it was obvious the local males feared for their insteps, and Hannah knew she’d never have a better chance to interview Betty about Max’s meeting.
Betty reached out to pat Hannah’s arm. “You look gorgeous tonight, Hannah.”
“Thanks.” Hannah knew it was only polite to return the compliment, but what could she say? Then she spotted Betty’s shoes and she had her answer. “Your shoes are great. They match your dress perfectly.”
Betty smiled, apparently satisfied. “Is there any news about poor Ron?”
“Nothing yet. I’m glad I found you, Betty. I need to talk to you about Max.”
Betty swallowed and her face turned pale. “I knew it! There’s something wrong, isn’t there?”
“Wrong?” Hannah was puzzled. “Why do you think there’s something wrong?”
“Max hasn’t called in yet and that’s not like him at all. He’s a very hands-on manager. Last year he called me three times a day.”
“There’s nothing wrong as far as I know,” Hannah reassured her. “I just wondered if he knew about Ron, that’s all.”
Betty fanned her face with her hand. “You practically gave me a heart attack. I’m probably just imagining things, but it’s just so strange that Max hasn’t called. Shirley, over at the Mielke Way Dairy, said Gary’s called in every morning.”
“Did Gary mention seeing Max at the convention?”
“No. And Shirley can’t call him to ask, because Gary won’t tell her where he’s staying.” Betty’s face crinkled in a huge smile and she moved closer. “Gary’s a bachelor and this is his big chance to live it up a little, if you know what I mean. At least that’s what Shirley thinks.”
“Shirley’s probably right. Do you think that Max is doing the same thing?”
“Max?” Betty looked utterly astounded. “If you knew him as well as I do, you wouldn’t even think it. Max has only two pleasures in life: money and more money.”
Hannah gave the appropriate laugh, even though she’d heard that particular comment about Max about a million times before. “Did you know that Max had an early-morning meeting in his office on Wednesday?”
“He did?” Betty seemed genuinely surprised. “But he was supposed to leave at five-thirty, and that’s awfully early for a meeting. Are you sure?”
“That’s what I heard.”
Betty thought about it for a moment and then she shrugged. “Anything’s possible, especially if it was about money. I know that Max was in the office early. They asked him to give the opening speech and I typed it up for him on Tuesday night. I left it on my desk and it was gone when I came in the next morning.”
“You’re sure that Max picked it up?”
“I’m positive. He left a yellow sticky, reminding me to order new file folders.”
Hannah decided not to tell Betty that Max had still been at the dairy at six-fifteen. It would only worry her. “Have you tried to call Max at the convention?”
“Of course I have. They told me he wasn’t registered at the Holiday Inn, but I didn’t expect him to stay there. Max is very picky and he just hated his room last year. It was right next to the ice machine.”
“How about the other hotels in town?”
“I tried them, but they all say he’s not registered.”
“Could Max be sharing someone else’s room?”
“Max?” Betty laughed so hard, her ample bosom shook. “Max isn’t the type to share. He always stays alone.”
“Did you have him paged on the convention floor?”
“Of course I did. They’re having a big banquet tonight and I called before I left home. Max didn’t answer my page.”
Hannah began to frown as an idea formed in her head. “Was Max driving to Wisconsin alone?”
“Yes. Gary Mielke asked him to carpool, but Max didn’t want to ride with him. And if you’re thinking that he was in an accident, I already checked with both highway patrols and he wasn’t. I really expected him to call in before now and it’s got me worried.”
Hannah was worried right along with Betty, and she wondered if Max had made it to the convention at all. “You said that Max didn’t want to ride with Gary Mielke. Do you know why?”
“Yes, but I really shouldn’t tell you.” Betty began to twist the handle of her burgundy clutch purse, a sure sign that she was uncomfortable. “It’s…uh…confidential.”
“If you want me to try to find Max for you, you’d better tell me. I promise I won’t tell anyone else.”
“All right, Hannah.” Betty twisted her purse handle again, and Hannah wondered whether the thin strip of leather would snap. “The Mielke Way is our biggest competitor and Max is working on a way to take over Gary’s operation. That’s why he didn’t want to ride with him.”
“Then Gary doesn’t know about Max’s plans?”
Betty gave her a look that had “idiot” written all over it. “Max doesn’t let anybody know what’s going on until it’s a done deal. That’s the way he operates.”
“But Max told you?”
“Not exactly. I just happened to pick up the extension in my office when Max was talking to some loan company about buying up the paper on one of Gary’s loans.”
Hannah didn’t believe that Betty had just happened to pick up the extension. Betty was nosy and that was why she was such a valuable contact. “Has Max ever done anything like this before?”
“Are you kidding? You don’t get as rich as Max is by selling cream and butter.”
“How do you know for sure?”
“You can’t work for a man for twenty years without picking up a word here and there. Max is a regular shark when it comes to buying up businesses, foreclosing properties, and turning big fat profits on them.”
Hannah was about to ask another question when she saw Andrea waving at her. She patted Betty on the arm and made her excuses. “Andrea’s waiting for me and I’ve got to run. Thanks, Betty.”
“But how about Max? Do you think he’s all right?”
“I’ll find out,” Hannah promised, and then she quickly added up the new facts she’d learned. Ron had seen Max on Wednesday morning and now Ron was dead. And Max was supposed to be at the Buttermakers’ Convention, but no one had seen him and he hadn’t called in. Had Max shot Ron and fled the country? It was a distinct possibility. It was also possible that Max was lying low at the convention and he’d call Betty when all the excitement had died down. If Max thought he was safe, he might even waltz back into town as big as you please and act all shocked and saddened about the horrible crime that had cost Ron his life.
“What is it, Hannah?” Betty looked anxious.
“I’m just thinking. When is Max due back?”
“On Tuesday night.”
If Max decided to call in, Betty might tell him about the questions she’d asked. That would alert him and he’d hop the first plane out of the country. Hannah couldn’t let that happen. Somehow, she had to keep Betty silent.
“I just realized something, Betty. You’d better not mention that you talked to me. If Max finds out that we’ve been discussing him, he’ll get really upset.”
“That’s true,” Betty agreed.
“If he calls in, don’t mention that I told you about his meeting. He’ll just think that we were nosing into his personal life. I’m concerned for your job.”
“You’re right, Hannah!” Betty’s eyes widened. “Max would fire me if he thought I was gossiping about him, even if I wasn’t!”
“Exactly. If anybody asks you what we were talking about tonight, just say that we were making small talk about the buffet table. I’ll say the same thing.”
“Thanks, Hannah.” Betty looked very grateful. “I sure don’t want to risk my job. I just love it at the dairy. My lips are sealed—you can count on that.”
“Mine too.” Hannah walked away, confident that Betty wouldn’t repeat their conversation. She’d also discovered a wonderful new tool for social intercourse. It was intimidation and it worked. And if the glower on Andrea’s face was any indication, Hannah knew that she was in for a dose of it herself.
Andrea sighed as they walked down the hall together. She still didn’t look happy about being left to dance with Norman for so long, but when Hannah had whispered that she’d been doing legwork for Bill, Andrea lightened up a little. “I still can’t believe that you stuck Norman with the Hollenbeck sisters. You know they’re going to chew his ear off for at least fifteen minutes.”
“That’s what I’m counting on. Norman said he wanted me to introduce him to prospective patients, and Marguerite seemed really interested in having her teeth whitened. If she does it, she’ll tell all her friends at the church and they’ll do it, too.”
“Here’s the ladies’ room.” Andrea stopped at the door.
“I know, but that was just an excuse. I need you to make a phone call for me, Andrea. You’re a lot better at sweet-talking people than I am.”
“You can say that again!” Andrea laughed and Hannah could tell that the last vestige of her anger had disappeared. “Who am I calling?”
“The Holiday Inn in Eau Claire, Wisconsin. That’s where they’re holding the Tri-State Buttermakers’ Convention.”
“You want me to talk to Max Turner?” Andrea sounded very reluctant. “I don’t think I should do that, Hannah. Bill hasn’t talked to him yet and he doesn’t know about Ron.”
“I don’t want you to talk to Max. I want you to get Gary Mielke from the Mielke Way Dairy on the phone. I need some information from him.”
Andrea looked dubious. “Does Bill know about this?”
“No. I just learned something from Betty and I have to confirm it with Gary.”
“But are you supposed to…I mean, shouldn’t Bill be the one to—”
“Bill’s not here and I am,” Hannah interrupted her. “This could be important, Andrea. It can’t wait for Bill to get back from the accident scene. We’ll use the phone in Del Woodley’s den. That’s private, and God knows the Woodleys can afford one long-distance call to Wisconsin.”
Andrea thought about it for a minute. “Okay, I’ll do it. Bill always says that I can sweet-talk anybody into anything.”
Hannah led the way to the den and got Andrea settled behind Del Woodley’s desk. Then she took a seat on the couch and listened in awe as her sister charmed the desk clerk into leaving his post to search for Gary Mielke. Bill was right. Andrea could talk anyone into anything, and knowing that caused a heavy load of guilt to drop from Hannah’s shoulders. Bill might want Andrea to quit her job, but her sister would just sweet-talk him into letting her go right on selling real estate.