Wedding Cake Murder (33 page)

“He ate a piece of hair?” Michelle asked, looking thoroughly puzzled. “I don’t see how that’s possible, Mother. That hair couldn’t have been in our cake. Both Hannah and I wore hairnets when we baked it for the competition.”

“Doc doesn’t believe it was in your cake, dear. He said that there may have been several final aspirations immediately before Chef Duquesne expired.” Delores stopped and smiled. “He’d be so proud of me. I said that exactly the way he said it.”

“Great,” Hannah commented, trying her best to sound complimentary rather than sarcastic. Their mother was drawing this out every bit as much as Lisa had drawn out her story. “Did Doc say the hair belonged to Chef Duquesne?”

“He didn’t think so. At least it didn’t match the hair on the rest of his head. Doc took a sample from Chef Duquesne’s head and compared it to the hair he found. He told me that he was no expert, but he was almost positive that the hair in his throat came from another source.”

“Another person?” Andrea sounded fascinated.

“Yes. That’s what he thought.”

Andrea’s eyes widened. “From the killer?”

“Perhaps. But Doc said it could also be from anyone who had used Sally’s cooler in the past.”

“So it doesn’t really prove anything,” Hannah said with a sigh.

“Maybe, and maybe not, but it
could
prove very helpful to you in your investigation!” Delores put on her
I-know-something-you-don’t-know
expression again. “I saved the best part for last.”

This time, Hannah couldn’t help it. She groaned. Loudly. And then she quickly apologized. “Sorry. I have a touch of indigestion. It must have been something I had for lunch.”

“Or something you
wish
Mother had given you to chew on,” Michelle quipped in an undertone.

Hannah ignored her and managed to squelch the urge to burst into laughter. Michelle’s comment was funny, but her mother’s delay tactics were horribly frustrating. “Please tell us the best part, Mother,” she said in a voice that only had the slightest hint of impatience. “All three of us are on pins and needles.”

“Of course you are. This could be a crucial part of your investigation, Hannah.”

Hannah felt her patience come very close to snapping. How much longer was her mother going to make her wait?! “What is it, Mother? Please tell me.”

“Doc got a call from the lab early this morning. Remember when he did that DNA test for you and got the results so rapidly?”

Hannah nodded. She didn’t trust herself to speak.

“Well . . . the owner of the lab, the same man Doc knew in medical school, told his techs to drop everything else and expedite the testing of the samples Doc gave him. His best tech compared the two samples and came to an early conclusion that there was the same very rare genetic marker in both samples.”

“So both of the hairs were from Chef Duquesne?” Andrea asked with an expression that came close to mirroring both Hannah and Michelle’s disappointment.

“No. That’s just it. One sample was from Chef Duquesne. But since the rare genetic marker was found in
both
samples, Doc’s friend gave him a ballpark guess that if the hair found in Chef Duquesne’s throat contained the same rare genetic marker, it must be from Chef Duquesne’s immediate family.”

Hannah took a moment to digest this. “I’m assuming this includes his parents and his siblings. How about his children?”

“Yes, they would be included. Do you know if he has any children?”

“His Food Channel biography didn’t mention any,” Michelle said, “but I’ll do another search online.”

Hannah turned to her mother again. “Does Mike know about this?”

“No, dear. Doc decided not to mention it until the conclusive results are in from the lab. That’ll take another five days or so. It’s just a hunch at this point, and Doc didn’t want to risk sending the police on what might turn out to be a wild goose chase.” She reached out to pat Hannah’s hand. “Just put all this out of your mind for now and do a good job with your cookies tonight. You have a reputation for excellence to protect, and everyone in Lake Eden is counting on you.”

“But no pressure, Hannah,” Michelle said under her breath.

“I heard that!” Delores responded, turning to give Michelle the look that all three sisters had termed
Mother’s drop dead look.

“I’d better get back to work,” Hannah said, rising to her feet.

Michelle caught Hannah’s cue and she stood up, too. “I’ll go tell Aunt Nancy that you want to see her on her break. She might know more about Chef Duquesne’s relatives.”

“And I’ll take her place in the coffee shop,” Andrea offered, also rising to her feet.

Hannah waited until both of her sisters had left the kitchen and then she turned to smile at her mother. “Thank you for telling me, Mother. And I promise to visit you in jail.”

“What are you talking about?!!” Delores was clearly flabbergasted.

“It took you twenty minutes to tell me about the DNA. And you could have covered everything in two minutes or less.”

Delores gave a little laugh. “That’s not exactly a criminal offense, dear.”

“Oh, yes it is.” Hannah smiled, so that her mother would know that she was teasing. “While I was waiting for you to get to the point, I just about died of curiosity. And that means you’re guilty of attempted murder!”

Chapter Twenty-three

H
annah smiled as she sniffed the air. Her Angel Crunch Cookies were almost ready to come out of the oven and they smelled delicious. It was a new recipe she’d decided to try, a variation on an old recipe she’d been using for the past few years, and she was surprised she hadn’t thought to try it before. The oven timer went off, and she walked over to peek in at the cookies. They were a lovely shade of golden brown, and she quickly pulled the pans from the oven and slipped them on the baker’s racks to cool.

“Those cookies smell great!” Michelle complimented her. “What are they?”

“A meringue cookie made with brown sugar, vanilla, and ground pecans.”

“They
sound
really good, too. When will they be cool enough to eat?”

“In five minutes or so. Then we can sample them to see if they’re good enough to serve.”

Hannah walked over to join Michelle at the stainless-steel work island. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s go over what we learned about Chef Duquesne’s family.”

Michelle pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and activated the notebook function while Hannah turned to the correct page in the steno pad.

“I’ll go first,” Michelle said. “Stop me if you want to add anything. Chef Duquesne has an older sister. She’s married and she runs a fishing lodge with her husband in Canada. Aunt Nancy called her and she hasn’t been back to the States since she attended her mother’s funeral four years ago.”

Hannah glanced down at her steno pad. “Chef Duquesne’s father is still alive, but he’s confined to a wheelchair. He lives in an assisted living place back east. Aunt Nancy talked to his nurse on the phone and he’s too frail to travel. She needed some excuse for asking about him, so she told the nurse she wanted to send him some cookies.”

“So we’re going to ship some from these batches?” Michelle gestured toward the baker’s rack.

“Yes, as long as Mike doesn’t eat them all.”

“Mike’s coming here?”

“Probably. He usually checks in with me the day after a murder to find out if I’ve learned anything that he doesn’t know.”

“And to warn you to leave murder investigations to the professionals, like him,” Michelle added with a laugh.

“That, too. He always manages to get here about the time a fresh batch of cookies is cool enough to eat.”

“That’s not difficult. You bake cookies all day long. There’s always a fresh batch of cookies.”

“True,” Hannah admitted. “I guess it wouldn’t really matter what time he came in.”

Just then there was a knock at the door, and both Hannah and Michelle broke into laughter.

“Mike?” Michelle asked.

“Yes, that’s Mike’s knock. I’ll put some cookies on a plate.”

“Okay. I’ll grab a couple, and then I’ll go up front and make myself scarce. You’re not going to tell him about the DNA, are you?”

“No. Doc will notify him when the results are conclusive. Will you please go let him in, Michelle? I’ll pour his coffee and get the cookies.”

Less than five minutes later, Hannah was sitting across from Mike, watching him wolf down Angel Crunch Cookies. She’d eaten one, and she had to admit that they were really good, with a perfect balance between crunch and softness.

“Oh boy, these are good!” Mike said, reaching for the last one on the plate. “I think I could eat a dozen.”

“You already have . . . and then some.” The words were out of Hannah’s mouth before she could call them back, so she smiled to take the sting out of her words. “Eat all you want, Mike. They’re light and they’re not all that big.”

“Thanks. I will. They’re new, aren’t they?”

Hannah nodded. “I just baked them to try them out.”

“Well, they’re great!”

Mike looked down at the empty plate and then up at her. It didn’t take a genius to get his unspoken message and Hannah got up to refill the plate. “Here you go,” she said when she put it down in front of him.

“Thanks, Hannah.” Mike took another cookie. “Will it do any good to tell you to stay out of my investigation into Chef Duquesne’s death?”

“No.”

“I didn’t think so. Just remember, you had a close call last time. If you hadn’t texted everyone when you did, you could have ended up dead.”

“That’s true,” Hannah admitted.

“It’s not that I resent you trying to help. It’s just that I feel it’s my duty as a sworn police officer to keep you safe. The last thing I want is to see you hurt. And if you keep doing things on your own, you
will
be hurt eventually.” He sighed heavily. “I really don’t know what to do with you, Hannah. You’ve never listened to me when I’ve warned you to stay out of it. Will you listen this time? I don’t want to have to chase a killer and worry about you at the same time.”

Hannah was touched by his concern, but she had to be truthful. “No, I probably won’t listen.”

“I didn’t think so. You’re a stubborn woman, Hannah. So . . . I might as well ask you, who do
you
think killed Chef Duquesne?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“You don’t have any suspects?”

“Oh, I have suspects. Quite a few, as a matter of fact. I did have a prime suspect, but I already cleared him.”

“Who?”

“Is it important? It involves some rather sensitive information.”

“It’s important, Hannah.”

“If you agree to keep it confidential and not put it in any police report or mention it to anyone else, I’ll tell you.”

Mike thought about that for a minute. Then he nodded. “Agreed, as long as I’m convinced that you cleared the suspect.”

“Fair enough.” Hannah took a deep breath and told Mike about Aunt Nancy’s encounter with Alain Duquesne and what had happened in his room.

“But Dick saw her on the security camera at the front door as she left?” Mike asked.

“That’s right. Aunt Nancy was never a suspect. It was Heiti. He was there at her house when she got home, and she told him what Chef Duquesne did to her.”

“Who’s Heiti?”

“He’s the man who built her new bookshelves, and he’s helping her fix up the house.”

“So Heiti is Aunt Nancy’s boyfriend?”

Hannah hesitated. “I’m really not sure what to call him.
Boyfriend
seems a little juvenile when they’re both over fifty. But yes, they really like each other and I think it might develop into something more than that.”

“Okay. So you thought that Heiti might have gone out there to confront Chef Duquesne and it got out of hand?”

“It seemed possible. Heiti’s very fond of Aunt Nancy. But he couldn’t have done it.”

“Okay. I’ll bite. Just how do you know that?”

“For one thing, Heiti doesn’t drink red wine. It gives him a headache. And I’m sure you had the two wineglasses you found in the kitchen tested at the police lab.”

“I did and you’re right. They both contained red wine, but the one that was empty had been wiped clean of fingerprints. There’s no way to prove who used that glass.”

Hannah smiled. She now knew that there had been no fingerprints on the empty glass, and that meant it had belonged to the killer. “There’s something else, too. Heiti lives about a mile from Aunt Nancy’s house and he ran out of gas on his way home. He left his car by the side of the road and walked the rest of the way to his apartment. The next morning, his neighbor gave him a ride to the Quick Stop, where he bought a gas can. The neighbor took him back to his car and waited until Heiti poured in the gas and got it started. Then Heiti drove straight to the Quick Stop and filled his gas tank all the way.”

“Did you simply take his word for that?”

“No, of course not. I checked with Ron and Sean. They said Heiti bought a gas can and when he drove back to the Quick Stop, his car took a full tank of gas.”

“All that’s good, Hannah, but he could have run out of gas on his way home from killing Chef Duquesne.”

“Heiti didn’t go out to the inn. Or if he was lying and he did drive out there and run out of gas on his way back, he still couldn’t have killed Chef Duquesne.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because Heiti didn’t go inside the inn. I called Dick to check. Dick went over the security tape and no one came in after Aunt Nancy left. There was no activity at all at the front entrance until Michelle and I came in for our practice time in the kitchen this morning.”

“Okay. You did everything right, Hannah.”

“Thank you. So you’re not going to talk to Heiti?”

“I didn’t say that. I’m definitely going to talk to Heiti.”

“But why?”

Mike smiled the devilish smile that always made Hannah feel slightly weak in the knees. “Didn’t you say that Heiti built custom bookcases for Aunt Nancy?”

“Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“I need a carpenter to build a bookcase in my office at the station.”