<18>
Hannah was still fuming as she went down the stairs. As always in times of great stress, she headed straight for the kitchen. Not only would it make her feel better to be in the room at the community center she liked best, but she could check out the ladies who were helping in the kitchen at the same time.
Edna’s after-dinner helpers were working to clean up the kitchen, wash the serving bowls, and store the leftover food until it could be taken to Reverend Strandberg’s soup kitchen in the basement of the Bible Church and the Lake Eden Convalescent Home. All it took was one glance to see that no one was wearing black.
The dance floor was next. Hannah found a table near the edge of the area that had been set aside for dancing and sat there watching the couples as they danced. The light was fairly dim and she had a few anxious moments when she spotted Cheryl Coombs in what she thought was a black skirt, but before she could even begin to wonder what possible motive Cheryl could have for killing Martin’s new wife, Cheryl’s partner danced her closer and Hannah realized that her skirt was dark green.
The cloakroom was next. Hannah went into the long, narrow room and flicked on the overhead light. There was a startled gasp and she turned to see the high school couple she’d interrupted. The girl blushed as she smoothed her hair and the boy gulped. “Sorry, Miss Swensen. We were just . . . uh . . . “
“It’s okay. I don’t want to know,” Hannah said, interrupting his effort to put a spin on what had obviously been a romantic moment. “Shouldn’t you be dancing, or something?”
“That’s a great idea. ‘Bye, Miss Swensen,” the girl said, grabbing her boyfriend’s hand and pulling him out of the cloakroom before things could get even more awkward.
Hannah grinned as she watched them hurry out the door. The girl was wearing blue, and they’d obviously been the only ones here. She was about to leave to check the ladies’ room when she spotted a small puddle of water on the floor next to a tote bag, the kind women used to carry their shoes when they were wearing their boots.
Her curiosity aroused, Hannah unzipped the bag and examined the shoes. They were a pair of standard black pumps with a small heel, the kind many women wore for dress. There was nothing unusual about the shoes themselves, except for the fact that they were soaked. Hannah picked up a pair of boots placed under a coat on the next hook. They were dry. She checked another pair and her suspicions were confirmed. The woman who’d worn the wet shoes had been outside recently. But why would someone go outside in dress shoes when they had their boots with them? Hannah figured that the lady in question must have been in too much of a hurry to switch to her boots.
It was a second bit of information, and Hannah intended to take full advantage of it. All she had to do was look for a woman in a black skirt, or dress, who was wearing boots. There couldn’t be that many of them.
Hannah headed off to the ladies’ room to do some uncharacteristic primping while she checked out the other women who were there. Unfortunately, since her brush was in her purse, and her purse was in a drawer in the kitchen, her primping was limited to running her fingers through her hair. She couldn’t even freshen her makeup, since all she was wearing was lipstick, and the Pretty Girl lipstick that Luanne had sold her before she’d gone to work at Granny’s Attic was still sitting on Hannah’s dresser at home.
Luckily, it didn’t take lone to check out the occupants of the ladies’ room. Hannah said hello to Charlotte Roscoe and Sally Laughlin, in red and light blue respectively. Then Carrie, wearing winter white, came in and Hannah greeted her, too. She was about to leave when she noticed a pair of feet wearing boots in one of the stalls.
“I just wanted to tell you that Norman’s doing a great job with the photographs,” Hannah said to Carrie, wishing that she had inherited the gift of making polite chitchat.
“Of course he is. Norman’s wonderful at whatever he does.”
“True,” Hannah was quick to agree, “Anyway, the reason I mentioned it is that if Savory Press uses any of Norman’s photos in the book, he’ll get credit as a photographer.”
“I’m sure he’ll like that,” Carrie said, pulling Hannah over to a corner. “What’s the matter? Why are you staring at that stall?”
Hannah sighed. She’d obviously been obvious. “I need to know who’s in there.”
“Why?”
“A man sent me in to check on his date. I don’t know her, but she’s wearing a black skirt.”
“Your mother’s right. You don’t have a deceitful bone in your body.”
“What?”
“Tell the truth, Hannah. You made up that whole story about a man and his date, didn’t you?”
“Oh. Well. . . “
“Never mind. I’m sure you have a good reason for wanting to know. Hold on for a minute and I’ll find out for you.”
Hannah held on. What else could she do? And a minute or two later, Carrie was back.
“Striped skirt, silver and blue,” Carrie announced in a sibilant whisper. “Is that all you wanted to know?”
“That’s it. Thanks, Carrie.” Hannah turned and headed for the door.
“I’ve got a question for you, Hannah.”
Hannah prepared herself mentally to lie again if it was necessary. “What is it?”
“I want to know what you think of Winthrop.”
“Oh. Well . . . I only met him briefly” — Hannah stalled while she tried to think of something innocuous to say — “but I did think he made a very strong first impression.”
That seemed to satisfy Carrie, and Hannah managed to escape. As she entered the banquet room again, she glanced at her watch. She had five minutes before she could meet her sisters and Norman in the lobby and give them the new information she’d learned. That was just time enough for a fresh cup of coffee.
As Hannah headed for the kitchen, she noticed that Babs Dubinski was sitting alone. Babs looked glum, and Hannah certainly couldn’t blame her. This whole week had been a series of shocks for her. First there was Martin’s unexpected marriage. And then there was his choice of wife, a Las Vegas dancer. There was the money Martin had spent on Brandi, money that should have gone to his sons. Now Brandi was dead, and that was another big shock, even though Babs hadn’t liked her.
Hannah gave a little wave as she neared the table where Babs was sitting. “Hi, Babs. I’m just going to get some fresh coffee. Do you want me to bring you some?”
“That would be nice.” Babs reached out to hand Hannah her empty cup. “No sense dirtying another.”
Hannah took the cup, and that’s when she noticed that Babs had teamed her dark red silk blouse with a black skirt. She was so startled, she almost dropped the cup and that gave her an excellent idea.
“Uh-oh!” Hannah said, and she dropped the cup deliberately. “Good thing it was empty. Hold on a second. I’ll trash it and get you a new one.”
Hannah moved to retrieve the cup, hoping that Babs wouldn’t guess it had been an excuse to bend over to check her footwear. She glanced at Babs’s feet and barely managed to stifle a gasp. Boots! Babs was wearing boots with her black skirt!
If you see someone in a black skirt, just write down the name and don’t ask any questions, Hannah’s own advice floated through her mind. Be really careful. We don’t know if we’re dealing with a material witness or with Brandi’s killer.
Hannah straightened up to stare at Babs for a minute, and then she plunked down in a chair, all set to ignore her own advice. She couldn’t imagine Babs as a killer, but the circumstantial evidence was mounting up. There was no way Hannah could wait to talk to her sisters and Norman. She had to strike while the iron was hot.
“What’s the matter, Hannah?” Babs looked concerned.
“This is serious, Babs. I want you to tell me exactly what happened in the larking lot with Brandi.”
“With Brandi? What do you . . . “ Babs broke off I the middle of what was sure to be a denial and gave a shuddering sigh. “Al right. I can’t stand to keep this to myself any longer. I’m the one who killed Brandi, but it was an accident. You’ve got to believe me, Hannah!”
Hannah grabbed a clean napkin with a poinsettia on the front. Andrea could translate it later. “Just tell me the truth, Babs, and I’ll believe you.”
“Part of the reason I didn’t like Brandi was that I didn’t trust her. The first time Martin brought her to the house, I think she took my watch.”
“You think she took it? Aren’t you sure?”
“I wasn’t sure enough to accuse her. The band pinches a little, so I only wore it when I went out. I usually kept it by my chair in the living room, or in a dish on my dresser, or in the kitchen on the windowsill. Well, after Martin and Brandi left, I couldn’t find my watch. I tore the place upside down and backwards looking for it, but I couldn’t swear for certain that I hadn’t misplaced it myself.”
“I understand.”
“That’s the reason I had my eye on Brandi tonight. I wanted to make sure she didn’t steal anything and give Martin a bad name around town.”
“Did she steal anything?” Hannah asked, although she already knew the answer.
“She stole your mother’s antique knife. I watched her do it Hannah, she draped her mink over her arm and sidled up to the dessert table as pretty as you pleas and pretended to be looking at the platter of cookies you and Lisa made. She picked up a couple, I watched her, and then she moved on down the table to look at the cake. She was so fast, I almost didn’t see her, but she grabbed the knife, hid it in her coat, and headed for the kitchen door.”
“And you followed her?”
Babs nodded. “But first I looked around for Martin. After all, she was his wife, and he could have taken care of it. Martin and Shirley were both gone, so there was only one thing for me to do. I followed Brandi into the kitchen to confront her. I was going to make her put the knife back.”
“Was in the kitchen?”
“No, it was deserted. But the pantry light was on, and when I looked inside, I noticed the door to the parking lot wasn’t shut all the way. I stuck my head out and there she was, heading across the lot.”
“So you went out after her.”
“Yes. I thought about running back inside for my coat and boots, but I didn’t want to give her time to hide the knife. I hadn’t gone more than a couple of yards when I heard a car door slam and a motor start running over the sound of the wind. Brandi was in Martin’s car, and there was only one reason she would have started it. She was going to leave, and I had to stop her.”
Hannah reached out to pat Babs hand. The older woman was obviously upset. “Go on.”
“I ran through the snow and got to the car before she could back up. She must have seen me coming, because she hadn’t locked the driver’s door, and I pulled it open. There she was, munching on one of your cookies while the car heated up. I reached right past her to turn off the key and then I grabbed her arm and tried to pull her out of the car. She fought back, but I managed to do it.”
“What then?”
“That’s when I noticed that she was wearing my great-grandmother Dubinski’s ring, the emerald and diamond heirloom I gave to Martin and Shirley on their wedding day. I saw red and grabbed for the ring.”
“And Brandi fought back?”
“Like a tiger. She punched me in the chest and I went down in the snow. I was just getting up when she reached into the car, grabbed your mother’s cake knife, and slashed out at me.”
“Did she cut you?”
“No, she missed. And I managed to grab her wrist. We grappled for the knife, and Brandi slipped. That made me slip, and somehow I ended up on top of Brandi in the snow.”
“So when you got the upper hand, you stabbed her?”
“No! My hand was on her wrist, never the knife. I thought she was just stunned, that’s all. I got to my feet, slipped the ring off her finer, and looked around for the knife to take it back inside. I searched around in the snow for a minute, and then I saw that it was stuck in her chest.”
“What did you do then?”
“I reached down to feel for her pulse, but there wasn’t any.”
“So you didn’t call for an ambulance? And you didn’t come back inside to tell anyone what had happened?”
Babs shook her head. “I’m not proud of what I did next, but I was so cold and so shocked, I just brushed the snow off my blouse and skirt, and came back in the kitchen.”
“No one saw you?”
“No one was there. I ran some warm water in the kitchen sink and soaked my hands until I could feel them again. There were no bloodstains. I checked for that. And then, since my shoes were soaked all the way through, I went to the cloakroom and switched to my boots.”
Hannah folded the napkin and stuck it in her sweater pocket. “You know what I have to tell you to do, don’t you?”
“I know. I’ll go up and tell Mike, but please let me tell the kids first. I want Martin to hear it from me.”
Hannah thought about that for a moment. It was a highly unorthodox and definitely against the police procedure, but she was no longer working with Mike and she didn’t have to follow his rules. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s go find Martin and Shirley.”
It didn’t take long to locate Martin and Shirley and find a quiet corner so that Babs could tell them her story. When she was through, Martin made a strangled sound. “You killed Brandi?”
“She didn’t kill Brandi,” Shirley spoke up. “It was an accident. The only reason Babs went after Brandi was to recover the stolen knife.”
Babs nodded. “Shirley’s right. I’m really sorry, but it was an accident. She came after me with the knife and both of us slipped in the snow. I just hope Mike will believe me. I have to go tell him now.”
“You can’t!” Martin objected, grabbing his mother’s arm. “Don’t tell him, Mom. He’ll arrest you for murder!”
“I don’t think he will. After all it was an accident. And don’t forget that Brandi had a weapon and I didn’t.”
“But he won’t know that. No one else saw Brandi steal the knife, and some smart lawyer could argue that you took the knife and went out to confront Brandi to get the ring back. You could be convicted, Mom. You could go to jail!”
“Relax, Martin,” Hannah said. “Norman has a photo of Brandi stealing the cake knife.”
“He does? That’s . . . that’s great! Then you think everything is going to be all right?”
“I think it will be, especially since your mother’s fingerprints won’t be on the knife. She might have to spend a few hours down at the sheriff’s station, and she may even have to stay down there until they can corroborate her account of what happened with Doc Knight’s findings, but I’m sure she’ll be cleared.”
“We’ll go along with you, Mom,” Martin said, taking his mother’s arm.
Shirley took her other arm. “Absolutely. And once we get over this hurdle, Martin and I have some news for you.”
“Really?” Babs gave the first smile Hannah had seen cross her face all evening. “I think I know what it is, and that’s just wonderful!”
Once Hannah had escorted Babs, Martin, and Shirley to the room that Mike was using for interviews, she raced back to the lobby to meet her sisters and Norman and tell them what had happened.
“You ignored your own advice?” Norman asked, looking more amused than angry.
“That’s right.”
Andrea’s eyes narrowed. “But you would have been madder than a wet hen if we’d ignored your advice.”
“That’s right, too.”
“Come on, everybody,” Norman said, playing the role of a peacekeeper. “let’s go see if there’s any chocolate left. I’m beginning to droop a little, and we can’t go home until the storm lets up.”
As they trooped toward the stairs leading down to the banquet rooms, Hannah glanced out the large window by the front door. Norman was right. The storm was still raging. The wind was every bit as fierce as it had been before, and it was still dangerous to drive. As she stared out the glass at some of the worst weather a Minnesota winter had to offer, a snow-covered figure materialized at the end of the sidewalk leading up to the front door.
“There’s somebody out there,” Hannah said, squinting through the driving snow. “I think it’s Bill!”
“Where?” Andrea asked, rushing back to join Hannah.
“Out there at the curb. I’d better tell Lonnie to go out and help him in. You catch Michelle and ask her to go get him a hot cup of coffee.”
Lonnie wasted no time fetching Bill. Once Bill got inside, Andrea helped him out of his parka and Hannah hung it up on the coat tree by the front door. Bill looked half-frozen, and he took the coffee gratefully when Michelle brought it up to him. “It’s cold out there. My heater went out halfway to town.”
“Oh, honey,” Andrea said, snuggling up to him in an effort to warm him up. “You shouldn’t have tried to make it all the way here. It’s all over now.”
“What’s over?”
“The case,” Michelle told him. “We solved it about fifteen minutes ago. Sip some coffee and warm up a little. Then we’ll take you to the room Mike’s using for interviews.”
“What case? What interviews? What’s going on?”
“Didn’t the dispatcher tell you?” Hannah asked, frowning a bit. “I know Mike tried to reach you right after I found the body.”
“What body?” Bill’s head swiveled from Andrea, to Hannah, to Michelle, and then back again.
“Martin’s new wife, Brandi Wyen Dubinski. She ended up dead in the parking lot. We’ll tell you all about it right after we thaw you out,” Andrea promised. “All we really need to know right away is how soon Mike can release Mother’s antique cake knife. We need to get it back to her before she finds out.”
“Before she finds out what?”
“That it was used as a murder weapon . . .except it really wasn’t,” Hannah explained, getting up to see if Norman had managed to find any chocolate. It was obvious that Bill really needed some because they were explaining things perfectly, and it was taking him forever to catch on.