“I didn’t know! What did she say about Tori?”
“She wasn’t happy when she dropped by my place at six-thirty. Tori cut her lesson short because she got a phone call. And Tricia heard Tori tell the person to come over.”
“Does she know who was on the phone?”
“No. She did overhear something else, though. She told me about it.”
Irma drew her breath in so sharply that Hannah could hear her gasp. “What was it?”
“She heard Tori’s part of the conversation. Tori took the call in her living room and she told Tricia to go straight to the studio and go over her lines. So Tricia did. But the door wasn’t closed all the way and she could hear what Tori was saying.”
“What did Tori say?”
“Tricia only caught a couple of phrases when Tori raised her voice and almost shouted at the person on the other end of the line. She knew that Tori was angry because Tori said that she wasn’t about to put up with it any longer. And then Tori slammed the phone down so hard it jangled.”
“What happened then?”
“Tori came into the studio and told Tricia that something had come up and she had to cut her lesson short, but she’d give her a longer lesson next week to make up for it.”
“And then?”
“And then Tricia left.”
“Thank goodness! What if . . .” Irma stopped speaking and gave another little gasp.
“What is it, Irma?”
“I was just thinking that if Tricia had stayed longer, she could have run straight into the killer!”
“I know, and I don’t want to think about that. It’s just too frightening!”
“It certainly is! Did Tricia see anyone on her way out of the building?”
“I asked her the very same thing! She said no, that she took the elevator down to the lobby and it was completely deserted. She went out to the parking garage, got into her car, and drove straight to my place.”
“So she didn’t see anyone lurking in the parking garage or anything like that?”
“No. She said there were lots of cars coming in because the Red Velvet Lounge was serving Reuben sandwiches that night and everybody in town loves those. But nothing she saw was unusual and she didn’t really pay any attention to the other cars. She was still mad at Tori for cutting her acting lesson short and she was in a hurry to drive to my place to tell me all about it.”
“Maybe it’s a good thing that Tori cut her acting lesson short.”
“It was a good thing, in hindsight.” Helen stopped speaking and gave a little sigh. “That’s all I know, Irma. You won’t tell anyone, will you?”
“Of course not! I never gossip. I know how to keep a confidence, especially when it’s this important.”
Hannah almost laughed out loud. She’d never heard anything so silly. Irma York was a charter member of the Lake Eden Gossip Hotline and Hannah had no doubt that Irma would be on the phone, telling her friends, the moment she got back home.
“Let’s talk about something more pleasant,” Helen suggested. “Which cake mix should I buy for Ned’s birthday? I’m having his favorite chili and garlic bread, and Tricia promised to make the three-bean salad he’s so crazy about. That’s why I bought all this jarred garlic and a whole bag of onions. Ned lost most of his sense of smell after that horse kicked him in the head and everything tastes bland to him unless we put in lots of spices. The doctor warned us that it could affect his taste buds, but I didn’t know it would last this long.”
“Ned got kicked six or seven years ago, didn’t he?”
“That’s right. He was trying to shoe Tricia’s horse himself and Sable didn’t cotton to it. That’s the last time he tried to be his own blacksmith! Now we call the blacksmith from Annandale to come out to the farm for things like that.”
“Did the doctor say when Ned’s sense of smell and taste would come back?”
“He said it could happen anytime, but I don’t hold out much hope for it. Now I’m resigned to buying all my spices in bulk because Ned can’t taste them unless they’re overpowering.”
“Oh, my!”
Hannah realized that Irma sounded more than a little shocked, and that was totally understandable. It would be a terrible thing to lose your sense of taste.
“If you use all those spices, doesn’t it ruin meals for the rest of the family?”
“Not really. I just take out a double portion for Ned and spice it up for him. The pies are the hardest part. You can’t spice up just one piece of a pie. I bought some of those little disposable pans for things like chicken pot pies. Florence carries them for me. Then I make Ned’s pies separately.”
“But that’s a lot of extra work for you.”
“Not really. I always make too much pie filling anyway, and I just mix up a little extra crust. I bake a separate pumpkin pie for Ned every Thanksgiving that’s loaded with cinnamon and cloves. That first year, I tried to put the extra spices in just one place and poor Tricia got the wrong piece.”
“What happened?”
“She started to choke and she had to drink lots of water to wash it down. I tell you, Irma, there are times when it’s a three-ring circus around my house.”
Irma laughed. “I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you make a spice cake for Ned? You could divide it up into cupcakes and add more spice to his batter. And you could stick a couple of toothpicks into his cupcakes before you bake them.”
“That’s a wonderful idea!” Helen sounded pleased. “I could even put some of those little birthday candles on his so we could tell them apart after I frost them.”
Hannah felt someone tap her shoulder and she whirled around to see Florence standing there.
“Do you need some help, Hannah?”
“Uh . . . yes, Florence. Yes I do.” Hannah recovered quickly. “I’m serving Chicken Stroganoff tonight and I need to choose a wine that’ll go well with it.”
“I’d suggest beer, but I see you already have six mix and match bottles.” Florence examined the beer in Hannah’s holder. “Good choices, Hannah.”
Hannah began to smile. “I don’t know much about beer. Are any of mine pale lagers?”