Wedding Cake Murder (Hannah Swenson, #19)

“Exactly right!” Hannah praised her, taking her murder book from her purse and flipping to a fresh page. “Go ahead, Sally. Tell me anything that you think might help.”


“Okay. I’m sure you already know that no one liked Chef Duquesne. The contestants thought he was overly critical and nasty when he commented on their entries. He did have an eye for the pretty women, though. One of my maids told me that he tried to get her to dry his back after a shower.”

“When was that?” Michelle asked her.

“In the afternoon on the day he arrived. He called down for more towels and Rita went up to deliver them. She’s the head of my housekeeping staff, and I asked her to take care of all requests from the contestants, their assistants, and the judges.”

“And she’s experienced at dealing with guests you think might cause problems?”

“Oh, yes. Rita’s been with us from the beginning. She worked for us when we lived in the Cities and we brought her with us when we opened our inn.”

Hannah sighed as she jotted a note. “We’ve heard that Chef Duquesne was a . . . womanizer. How about you, Sally? Did you see any behavior that could have been compromising?”

“I always see things that could be compromising. Dick and I run a hotel. Sometimes those things aren’t really compromising and sometimes they are, but part of our job is to watch out for trouble and to keep our guests safe. Let’s be a little clearer on this, Hannah. What would you call compromising?”

Hannah thought about that for a moment. “Let me put it this way . . . did you see any women leaving Chef Duquesne’s room in the morning before anyone else got up?”

“No, nothing like that. The only women who went into his room left a lot earlier than that!”

“Who? And when?” Hannah asked, her pen poised over the page.

“Brooke Jackman. Rita saw her go into his room and come out less than ten minutes later. She tried to smile when she saw Rita in the hall, but Rita could tell she’d been crying.”

“Anyone else?” Michelle asked.

“Well . . . there was a woman in the bar with him after the competition was over. They sat at a table, drinking.”

“Who was it?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t recognize her. She wasn’t a guest in the hotel. I know that. And she wasn’t part of a contestant team, either. As a matter of fact, she had her coat with her, a nice dark green wool with a fur collar. It was draped over the back of her chair. That tells me she came in for the competition and she planned to leave to go back home.”

“What did she look like?” Michelle asked.

“She was a good-looking woman with brown hair and I’d say she was in her late forties or early fifties. She wasn’t wearing much makeup, or if she was, it was very subtly done. The only thing I really noticed about her was the lovely double strand of multicolored pearls that she had around her neck. They were gorgeous against her white sweater.”

Hannah wrote a note. “Thanks, Sally. That gives us something to go on. Did Chef Duquesne look like he was romantically interested in her?”

“He didn’t look that way at first, but after a couple of drinks, he did.”

“Was she drinking, too?”

“Nothing alcoholic. She ordered hot pink lemonade. We serve it in a mug with grated nutmeg on top. He caught me after they’d ordered their second round, slipped me a twenty, and asked me to put vodka in her lemonade.”

Hannah’s eyebrows shot up and Sally laughed. “Oh, don’t worry. I didn’t. If the lady had wanted vodka, she was the type who would have ordered it herself.”

“Did you tell him you wouldn’t do it?” Michelle asked.

“No. We try to avoid conflict in the bar. I just smiled, thanked him very much for the tip, and put the money in the cash register. Later on, Dick deducted the twenty dollars from his bar bill.”

“Did the woman go up to Chef Duquesne’s room with him?”

“Yes, after about an hour or two in the bar. It was a repeat of what happened with Brooke. Rita said that the woman came out of his room less than twenty minutes later.”

“And she was crying, too?”

“No, but Rita said that she looked so upset, she practically ran down the hall to the elevator.”

“I think we can all guess why the lady was upset when she left,” Michelle said. “If Chef Duquesne thought she’d been drinking vodka in her lemonade, he might have assumed that she was smashed. And then, when he got her up to his room, he probably tried to hit on her.”

“And it didn’t work the way he thought it would because she was stone cold sober,” Hannah added.

“I’m sure you’re right,” Sally agreed.

“What time did the woman leave his room?” Hannah asked.

“Eleven forty-five. I know because Rita said she had fifteen minutes of her shift to go and she gets off at midnight.”

“Do you have a security camera in the bar?” Hannah asked, hoping to see an image of the woman.

“We’ve got one, but it’s a dummy. People think it’s real, but it’s not. It’s just like the one in the kitchen.”