<11>
“Just a second, Hannah!”
Hannah tuned to see Martin Dubinski rushing up to her. She started to smile politely, but then thought better of it. If Mike had informed him of Brandi’s death, it wouldn’t be appropriate to smile. On the other hand, if Mike hadn’t told him, Hannah didn’t want to alert Martin that anything was wrong. Hannah settled for what she hoped was a pleasant and totally inexpressive expression, the same one worn by the teddy bear she’d lugged around as a child.
“I’m so glad I found you,” Martin said, smiling broadly. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of Brandi, but thank you for putting Shirley’s cake in the cookbook. It was her mother’s favorite recipe, and she passed it on to Shirley.”
“It’s a good cake,” Hannah said, taking note of Martin’s smile. If he was smiling, Mike hadn’t gotten to him yet, and it was appropriate to smile back.
“Have you seen Brandi?”
The smile Hannah had just decided to wear slipped alarmingly before she could stop it. Of course she’d seen Brandi, but she’d rather not remember that. And she didn’t want to say she’d even seen Brandi until Mike had spoken with the husband of the dearly departed.
“I’m really worried about her. She went to the ladies’ room an hour ago, and I haven’t seen her since. I even asked Kate Maschler to go in and see if she was okay, but Brandi wasn’t there.”
Hannah sighed, accepting the inevitable. Since she’d stumbled into the middle of this mess, she was caught between lying and telling Martin that his new wife was dead. Neither option pleased her, so she’d just have to settle for taking Martin to the room that Mike was using as an office and letting the long arm of the law take charge.
“Have you seen her, Hannah?” Martin asked again.
“I’ve seen her. Come with me, Martin. I want you to talk to Mike Kingston. He knows exactly where Brandi is now.”
Thankfully, the room that Mike was using for his office was only a few steps from the top of the stairs and Hannah was able to successfully dodge questions as she walked Martin down the hall and knocked on the door. Once she’d delivered her lamb to the slaughter, Hannah went in search of Andrea, to see how her heavily pregnant sister was reacting to Bill’s absence and the blizzard warnings that were blanketing the state.
“Hi, Hannah,” Andrea greeted her. She was sitting on a chair near the cloakroom, eating a piece of Chocolate Fruitcake. “This cake is absolutely delicious. I think it’s my very favorite dessert.”
“Glad to hear it. You’re feeling all right, aren’t you?”
“Just fine.”
“And you’re not nervous about Bill and the blizzard?”
“Why should I be? He’s got a cell phone, a car phone, and a radio to connect him to dispatch. If he goes in the ditch on the way here, he’ll have plenty of help getting out.”
“You’re right, and I’m glad you’re not worried. Since Doc Knight took you off restriction, do you feel like doing a little investigating?”
“Investigating?” Andrea’s eyes widened. “You mean there was a murder?”
“Yes.”
“Right here at the party?”
“Yes.”
“Who got killed?”
“Brandi.”
”Where? How?”
Hannah knew her answer would sound as if they were playing a game of Clue, but she gave it anyway. “In the parking lot with Mother’s antique cake knife.”
“Good thing I’m eating chocolate.” Andrea looked a little sick, but that didn’t stop her from popping the last bite into her mouth. “I have a feeling I’m going to need all the energy I can get. Have you told Mother?”
“No.”
“Are you going to?”
“Not just now. Mike wants only the essential people to know that Brandi’s dead.”
“I’m essential?” Andrea looked pleased when Hannah nodded. “Okay, you can count on me to do whatever you need.”
“Your napkin.”
“What?”
“I need something to write on.”
“Oh. Sure.”
Hannah took the paper napkin that Andrea offered and flipped it open to write on the inside, where it was free of cherubic angels with halos floating in a star-studded sky. She retrieved the pen she’d found in the kitchen and stuck behind her ear, and used the wall as a desk. “Okay. The first thing we need to figure out is who might want to kill Brandi, and why.”
“You mean besides Shirley? And Laura Jorgensen, because they’re both jealous?”
“Yes.” Hannah jotted down their names.
“Okay, there’s Martin’s mother. From what I heard, Babs didn’t approve of Brandi, but I’m not sure that’s a strong enough motive for murder.”
“I’ll put her on the list anyway. Let’s try to think of something less obvious. This could be the work of someone from Brandi’s past, or some Lake Eden person she knew that we don’t know she knew.”
“Huh?” Andrea looked mystified.
“Maybe someone from Lake Eden went to Vegas and met her there. And maybe they didn’t like the fact she married Martin,” Hannah suggested, thinking of Mayor Bascomb.
“Got it. It’s jealousy again.”
“A very powerful motive,” Hannah reminded her. “Other than the fact every woman here wanted to kill Brandi for looking so gorgeous, there have to be other motives. You talked to Brandi and Martin for at least a half hour before I came over to their table. Did you learn anything important about her?”
“I certainly did! Brandi’s mink coat wasn’t just any old mink. It was a Blackglama ranch mink stroller.”
“Stroller?”
“That’s a coat that comes to the knees. It’s what Mother used to call a car coat. And the price tag was twenty-two point five, not just twenty-two. Do you think someone killed her for her coat?”
“If they did, something scared them off before they could take it. Brandi was still wearing it when I found her and that’s why I didn’t see blood in the snow. The lining of the coat soaked it up.
Andrea’s face turned pale and Hannah reached out to steady her. “Are you all right?”
“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.