Chapter TWenty-Nine
Hannah glanced at the clock on the wall as she switched on the lights in her kitchen at The Cookie Jar. It was five minutes past ten—late at night to be mixing up cookie dough. She was closed tomorrow and Sunday so there were no cookies to bake for her customers, but she'd promised to donate some cookies to the Redeemer Lutheran bake sale and she wanted to take Freddy some Molasses Crackles. She'd mix up a batch, let them chill overnight, come in early to bake them, and split them between Reverend Knudson and Freddy. As Hannah assembled her ingredients, she thought about Freddy and who might have injured him. It was possible that Rhonda's killer was the culprit, especially if Freddy had seen or overheard something that could lead to his arrest. Hannah freely admitted that such a theory was a little far-fetched, but she refused to believe that any of the local residents were to blame. Freddy was well liked around town and everyone knew that he had limitations. It was more likely that someone who wasn't local had attacked Freddy. The fireworks had drawn a big crowd from outside the Lake Eden area and a stranger could be the culprit. In any event, standing at the workstation thinking about it wasn't going give her the answer.
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On her way to fetch one of her stainless-steel mixing bowls, Hannah retrieved the crime-scene photos she'd taken through the basement windows and spread them out at the workstation. While she was mixing the cookie dough, she'd think about Rhonda's murder. She gave the photos a glance as she waited for the butter to melt in the microwave, but she didn't spot anything she hadn't noticed before. The only thing unusual was the strawberry jam on the peach jam shelf. She was almost certain that the three jars of strawberry jam had been set there to replace the three jars of peach jam that had broken on the floor, but why would anyone go to that trouble and not sweep up the broken glass?
Once the butter was melted, Hannah went to fetch the molasses from the pantry. As she took down the jar, she noticed what was stashed behind it and she groaned. It was a large bag of Hershey's Kisses she'd bought for her almond cookies and it was staring her right in the face. She had to hide it quickly before she weakened and opened it. Hannah reached down to grab a sack of pecans and placed them in front of the bag. She kept all of her nuts on the shelf below, but this was just a temporary measure to hide the candy from view. Then she carried the molasses back to the kitchen, picked up her spoon, and set it right back down again as what she'd just done struck her with full force. She'd hidden her Hershey Kisses from view by placing a sack of pecans from a lower shelf in front of them. What if Rhonda's killer had done the same thing? What if he'd hidden something by placing the jars of strawberry jam in front of it?
That theory seemed reasonable and Hannah made a mental note to tell Mike and Bill about it in the morning. Perhaps the murder weapon was hidden there, or some other clue that might help them track down Rhonda's killer. It was certainly worth a look.
Hannah mixed in the molasses and then the sugar, stirring much longer than was necessary. The three jars of strawberry jam had been on the peach jam shelf and Mrs. Voelker's letter had mentioned the peach jam. Hannah set down her
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spoon and went to retrieve it from her purse. Lisa was sure that the game Speedy had mentioned was the Treasure Hunt game. What if this whole letter was the first clue in a game he wanted Mrs. Voelker to play? Speedy had practically begged her to make peach jam and it was obvious he hadn't known that she was in a wheelchair and her jam-making days were behind her. What if there really was a treasure behind Mrs. Voelker's peach jam? Was it still there?
She thought about that while she grated fresh nutmeg and added the rest of the spices to her bowl. She measured out the baking soda and salt, and stirred everything up. Giving a little shake of her head, Hannah turned back to the letter. One phrase stood out. The guy next to me is going to find someone to take this letter out and mail it to you. Take the letter out? Out where? What sort of hospital would refuse to mail a patient's last letter?
A prison hospital! The moment that answer occurred to Hannah, the whole thing made sense. If the dying man had been in prison, all correspondence in or out would have been examined by prison officials and it was obvious that this man hadn't wanted his letter screened.
Hannah thought about that as she beat the eggs and added them to her bowl. Who was Speedy? And why had he been in prison? Edna had remembered the summer he'd spent with Mrs. Voelker, but she hadn't been able to remember his real name. She'd promised to tell Hannah if she remembered, but so far there'd been no word from Edna, unless ...
Delores had given her a message from Edna, but she hadn't paid much attention to it. Edna had said to tell her that it was a tree. Speedy's name was a type of tree?
Hannah set down the flour canister so hard, a little puff of flour rose up into the air. She paged through her notes, came to the section about the bank robbery, and let out a whoop. One of the bank robbers was David Aspen and an aspen was a tree. This put a whole new spin on things!
The pieces of the puzzle began to align themselves as Hannah measured out the flour. David "Speedy" Aspen had
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robbed a bank and hidden the money somewhere, perhaps in Mrs. Voelker's basement. Since she'd known him as a child, she would have welcomed him if he'd come to visit. The stolen money couldn't be behind the jam jars. The shelf was shallow and stacks of bills would have taken up more space than that. But the furnace room was old and the walls and floor were dirt. Speedy could have cut a hole in the back of the shelf, dug a cave right into the dirt wall, hidden the money there, and stuck the board back in place. With peach jam on the shelves blocking the cut board from view, no one would ever have found it.
But someone had found it The money was beginning to surface in the Lake Eden area. Hannah remembered Rhonda's one-way ticket to Zurich as she added flour to her bowl and another piece of the puzzle clicked into place. She'd wondered how Rhonda could afford to stay in Europe and now she knew the answer. Swiss banks had numbered accounts and they were a perfect place to hide the stolen money.
The puzzle was starting to take form now that she had some key pieces. The letter had been in Rhonda's apartment. That meant she'd found it before the night of her death. And if Mrs. Voelker had played the Treasure Hunt game with Speedy, she'd probably played it with Rhonda, too. Rhonda might even have known about the robbery, since the robber was a shirttail relation of hers. Rhonda could have found the letter with her great-aunt's effects, gone down to the basement to check the jam shelf, and realized that the stolen money was stashed in the furnace room wall.
As Hannah added more flour to her bowl, she asked herself another question. If Rhonda had found the letter shortly before she'd bought that one-way ticket, why hadn't she removed the money and taken it back to her apartment? Hannah thought about that as she stirred, and then she remembered what Beatrice Koester had told her about Rhonda's apartment. They'd replaced the carpet and repainted it in June. That meant workmen had been going in and out while Rhonda
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had been at work. Rhonda must have decided that the money would be safer in her great-aunt's basement where it had been hidden, undiscovered, for years. It was the reason Rhonda had hesitated about signing the deed. She'd wanted to make absolutely sure that she could go out to the house over the weekend to pick up a few mementos.
"A few mementos," Hannah muttered, stirring for all she was worth. "A fortune in stolen money is more like it!"
Suddenly another piece of the puzzle fell into place. When Ken Purvis had left Rhonda on Friday night, she must have decided that it was a perfect time to retrieve the money. Although Ken had believed that Rhonda was stuck without a way back to town, Hannah knew that Rhonda had been a resourceful woman. She could have walked to the neighboring farm to call a taxi, gone out to the road to flag down a passing resident, or stayed overnight and dealt with the problem in the morning. Rhonda had packed up that money. Hannah was sure of that. And the killer had caught her in the act of retrieving it and murdered her for the stolen cash.
Hannah had the motive. It was greed, and greed could be powerful. Hannah added the rest of the flour to her bowl and stirred it in, thinking about the money that had surfaced. Rhonda's killer had it now and he was spending it. One ten-dollar bill from Lake Eden Neighborhood Drugs had surfaced in her own shop on Wednesday. Someone had shopped in the drugstore that morning and passed a ten-dollar bill from the old bank robbery.
"Oh-oh," Hannah groaned, remembering the theory she'd discarded when she'd discovered that the bank robbers had never been prisoners at Stillwater. She might have crossed Jed off her suspect list too soon. He'd been spending a lot of money lately and he couldn't be making that much doing handyman work. There was the late-model pickup truck, the lunches at the cafe every day, and the expensive hand-embroidered vest that he'd been wearing at the celebration today.
Hannah tore off a strip of plastic wrap and covered her
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mixing bowl, smoothing down the edges to make a tight seal. Was Jed Rhonda's killer? Mike had told her that they'd found Jed's cap in the basement. What if he hadn't left it there when he'd replaced the glass in the window? What if he'd dropped it when he'd killed Rhonda?
A likely scenario began to take shape in Hannah's mind. Ken Purvis hadn't seen a car in the driveway when he'd driven up on the night that Rhonda was killed, but that was before Jed had bought the pickup, and he would have been driving Freddy's mother's old car. He'd told Hannah that the starter was defective and he had to park it at the top of the hill. What if Jed had left the car on the shoulder of the road and walked in?
Hannah's mind went into overdrive. If Jed had knocked on the door and gotten no answer, he might have looked in the windows to see if Rhonda was there. And if he'd seen Rhonda in the basement packing up the money, he could have gone inside, killed her, and taken the cash. Jed was strong. He could have dug her grave in the hard-packed dirt floor before Ken Purvis drove up and frightened him away. And in Jed's haste to hide the board that covered the hole in the wall, he could have dropped three peach jam jars and replaced them with the strawberry jam.
Another part of the scenario occurred to Hannah and she gulped. Was Jed the one who'd attacked Freddy and left him for dead under their dock? If Freddy had somehow discovered that Jed had killed Rhonda, he would have told someone. Mrs. Sawyer had taught her son to be a good citizen and Freddy knew that murder was wrong. Had Jed's concern at the hospital tonight been because Freddy was injured? Or had he been concerned that Freddy would recover enough to tell someone that Jed had attacked him and killed Rhonda? Just as soon as she put her cookie dough in the cooler she'd call Mike and tell him her suspicions. If she was right and Jed was the killer, he'd been duping everyone in town, including her!
Preoccupied with this theory, Hannah opened the walk-in
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cooler and stepped inside to find a convenient place for her bowl of cookie dough. She'd just moved some things around to make room when the door slammed shut and she was plunged into darkness. She grabbed the cord that hung down from the light, flicked it on, and whirled toward the door. It had never banged shut on its own before! She stepped forward to push the inside release, but it was jammed. What was going on!?
As Hannah stood there, trapped inside her cooler, she heard someone rummaging around in her kitchen. It had to be Jed, and unless her theory was full of holes, he was the one who'd shut her in. "Let me out, Jed!" she shouted.
"Sorry, no can do." Jed's voice was faint through the heavy metal door. "You're gonna have to stay there."
Even though Jed's voice was barely audible, Hannah could tell that he was slurring his words. He'd been drinking and that didn't bode well for her. "Come on, Jed. This isn't funny."
"'Course it's not. There's nothing funny about dying and that's what this is all about. Maybe you figured it out and maybe you didn't. I can't take any chances."
A shiver went down Hannah's spine and it had nothing to do with the temperature of the cooler. It would do no good to protest that she hadn't figured anything out, because Jed was standing in her kitchen and he must have spotted the crime-scenes photo and Mrs. Voelker's letter. Still, it was worth a shot and she took it. "I don't know what you're talking about. Just let me out now and you won't get into any trouble over this. I promise I won't say a word about it."
"You think I'm as dumb as Freddy?" Jed's laughter rang out. "I'm plugging up the air vent. When your air runs out, you'll die."
Hannah banged on the door with her fists, then she shouted out, "Why are you doing this, Jed? Are you crazy?"
"Maybe, but that's better than being dumb. Freddy told me about that present you hid for him and he even confessed what it was. But the stubborn retard wouldn't tell me where he hid it. Thanks to your big mouth, I know it's right here."
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Hannah's mind flashed on Freddy's still form in the hospital bed and she shivered. "Did you try to kill Freddy?"
" 'Course I did. He was gonna blab, sooner or later. I poured booze over him so it'd look like he was drunk and he fought with someone, but you and your sister got there too quick. You should've let him die in peace. Now I'm going to have to go back to the hospital and finish the job."
"The nurses won't let you near him!" Hannah countered, even though she knew it wasn't true. If Jed turned on the charm and asked to take a peek at his cousin, the nurses would think he was wonderful for caring so much.
"The nurses won't even know I'm there. I unlatched the window before I left. It'll be easy to sneak into Freddy's room right after they check on him at midnight. It was real nice of you to notice that respirator. All I have to do is shut it off and it'll take care of Freddy for good. He's so stupid he doesn't deserve to live anyway."
Hannah saw red. Jed had been living a lie, pretending to like Freddy and freeloading by living in his house. This con man and killer had taken them all in and she wished she had superhuman powers so that she could tear the cooler door off its hinges and break Jed in two like a matchstick.
"You know, you were always pretty nice to me, giving me all those free cookies and stuff. I'm starting to feel real bad about locking you in and leaving you to die. If you tell me where you put that shoebox Freddy gave you, I might just give you a break. I could always unplug that vent and they'll find you in a couple of days. I might even call to tell them where you are. I'm gonna be in a real good mood once I start spending all that cash."
Hannah recognized the ploy for what it was. Jed would kill her whether she told him where the shoebox was, or not. But why not tell him, especially since the box was hidden in the perfect place? Hannah picked up the heaviest thing she could find, the bowl of cookie dough she'd just mixed, and moved close to the door. "If I tell you where it is, you'll let me go?"
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"Sure. Where it is?"
"Right here in the cooler," Hannah said, tightening her grip on the metal bowl.
Jed laughed long and hard. "Nice try, but I don't believe you. You're probably holding something heavy right now, getting ready to take a swing at me when I open the door. It'd be nice to have that shoebox and I'll look around some before I leave, but I can get along without it. Nobody around here will guess it belonged to me once you and Freddy are dead."
Hannah pressed her ear to the cooler door and she heard Jed rummaging around in her kitchen, banging cupboard doors. He searched for about five minutes and then she heard the back door open and close behind him.
A shudder ran through Hannah's body, from the top of her head down to the tip of her toes. She was trapped and no one would think to look for her here. Why hadn't she listened to Andrea when she'd urged her to get a cell phone? If she had one, she could call to warn the hospital that Jed was coming to kill Freddy at midnight and she could tell them to send someone to rescue her. But she didn't have a cell phone and even if she had, it was doubtful that she would have carried it into the cooler with her.
Hannah did her best to stay calm and consider her options. There weren't many, but it would take a while for the air to run out and she wasn't dead yet. Banging on the cooler wall wouldn't do any good. It was thick and there was no one around to hear her anyway. Nobody ever came down the alley at night except...
Herb Beeseman! Hannah glanced at her watch. It was ten forty-five and Herb made his rounds at eleven o'clock every night. He wouldn't be able to hear her if he just drove down the alley, but if the alarm in Granny's Attic went off, that would get him out of his squad car.
Hannah did her best to concentrate. She had to make the alarm in Granny's Attic go off. It was rigged to trigger every time the power failed and it shared a circuit with her freezer
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and her cooler. If she could figure out a way to short out that circuit, the alarm would sound and Herb would respond. He'd check Granny's Attic first, but then he'd come into The Cookie Jar. And when he came into her kitchen to check to see that her freezer and cooler were still working, she'd use the metal bowl with the dough she'd just mixed to bang on the cooler door for all she was worth.
How could she short out the circuit? Hannah glanced around her. She couldn't get at any switches, but there was an electrical panel near the floor in the back. She got down on her hands and knees to examine it and started to frown. It was held-in place by screws and she didn't have a screwdriver. She spent precious minutes trying to loosen the screws with her fingernails, but the last repairman who'd come to check the cooler had tightened the screws down much too diligently.
Hannah sat down and sighed. What could a person use for a screwdriver if a person didn't have a screwdriver? She'd once used a table knife, much to the dismay of her fattier who'd caught her doing it, but she didn't have a table knife either. She took a deep breath, let it out again to relax, and that was when she remembered that Rhonda had been stabbed with a knife. Jed had been very anxious to recover that shoebox Freddy had given her and that meant there was something important inside. It had to contain the knife that Jed had used to stab Rhonda!
Hannah stood up to get the shoebox and sat back down to open it. She was chilled to the bone and her fingers were shaking so hard, she could barely untie the twine. When she lifted the lid and unrolled the old rag that was inside, she let out a cry of pure relief. It was a hunting knife, a long one with a sturdy, wicked-looking blade. She was about to grab it when she realized that the handle was metal and it might have fingerprints on it.
This consideration didn't stop Hannah for long. Her situation was growing more desperate by the minute. She grabbed one of the nonskid mats that lined the cooler shelves and
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used it for a glove. Then she leaned forward and began to loosen the screws that held the cover of the electrical panel in place.
It took a few minutes, but at last the cover came off and Hannah stared at the array of wires inside. She could pull them loose, but that might not short out the circuit.
Hannah leaned closer to peer inside the panel. There was a caution sticker on one part, a warning to shut off the power before attempting to replace that part and to use properly insulated tools. Hannah glanced down at the metal blade of the knife. The power was on, and the knife blade wasn't insulated. That made two out of two warnings she would ignore and it ought to do the trick. Unfortunately, the handle of the knife was also metal and she could fry. On the other hand, she was going to die anyway and it was worth a shot, especially if she wrapped the knife handle in the nonskid mat again.
Once that was accomplished, Hannah prepared for action. She had to hurry. Herb would be coming down the alley any minute. She took a split second to decide where to plunge the knife and decided to aim for the red sticker that read "Danger." The cooler light would go out when the circuit blew, so she pushed the mixing bowl right up against the cooler door. Then she turned back to the open panel, took a deep breath, and stabbed.
The moment the tip of the knife blade hit the danger sticker, a huge ball of light knocked Hannah flat on her back. Despite the fact that she was seeing stars, Hannah sat up, crawled to the door, and listened. The alarm was going off next door. She'd done it and she was still alive! Now all she had to do was wait for Herb and bang on the cooler door when he came into her kitchen.
It seemed like forever, crouching there in the dark, but at last Hannah heard the back door open and she banged on the cooler door as hard as she could. A second later, she heard a mumbled expletive and then a shout.
"Hannah? Are you in there?"
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"Yes!" Hannah shouted back at the top of her lungs.
"The handle's padlocked, but I've got bolt cutters in the cruiser. Just sit tight for a minute."
Just sit tight? Hannah started to giggle with a mixture of relief and anxiety. What else could she do but sit tight? She giggled as she heard Herb cutting off the padlock, and she giggled when she heard him open the door. She was still giggling when he pulled her to her feet and gathered her into his arms. Then she remembered about Freddy and her giggles stopped abruptly.
"What happened, Hannah?"
"Later," Hannah said, taking a huge gulp of welcome air. "Do you have a police radio in your patrol car?"
"Sure."
"Get through to the sheriff's department and tell them to post a deputy in Freddy Sawyer's hospital room. He's going to be murdered at midnight. Tell them not to let anyone but Doc Knight in or out until they hear from me."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm positive. Would a woman who's been locked inside her own cooler by a stone-cold killer lie to you?"
Herb looked as if he wanted to ask a million questions, but he turned on his heel and rushed out to his patrol car to make the call. By the time he came back in, Hannah had already called the hospital and Doc Knight had promised to send his biggest orderly to stand guard in Freddy's room until the deputy arrived She'd also retrieved the murder weapon and packed it and the nonskid mat in Freddy's shoe-box.
"Now will you tell me what happened?" Herb asked, staring at Hannah with a mixture of alarm and admiration.
"I'll tell you on the way out to the sheriff's station. I know who killed Rhonda and I need to give them the facts. And I know who has that old bank robbery money, too."
"And you want me to drive you out there?"
"Rhonda's killer is the one who locked me in my cooler and plugged up the air vent I think I'm still a little shaky
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from the cold and the lack of oxygen. Not only that, I had to short out the power with the murder weapon and I got knocked back against the wall."
"No problem," Herb said, holding the door open for her.
"Good. Mike's not going to be too happy about the murder weapon. I bent it a little when I used it for a screwdriver and it's got a burn hole in the blade from shorting out the power. Maybe they can still lift some fingerprints if I didn't smudge them with the nonskid mat. Are you sure you don't mind driving me?"
"Anytime, Hannah." Herb shook his head as they went out the door. "Let me see if I got this straight. You got locked in the cooler by Rhonda's killer, you used the murder weapon as a screwdriver and a tool to short out the circuit, you discovered that Freddy was targeted for murder at midnight tonight, and you know who has the loot from that old bank robbery?"
"That about sums it up. I'm sorry about pulling you away from your rounds, Herb. I owe you, big-time."
"Maybe I should listen in at the sheriff's station. Then you won't have to explain it all twice."
"That's a good idea. I'll tell them I want you with me."
"Okay, then you already paid me back." Herb opened the door of his patrol car for Hannah and helped her in.
"How did I pay you?" Hannah asked, buckling her seat belt and leaning back for the ride.
"I'll be there to see the expression on Mike's face when you explain all this. Believe me, Hannah. You paid me big-time!"