Blueberry Muffin Murder (16 page)

"I guess that's true," Hannah said.

"And in the summer they're just as nice. You can do all the same things in air-conditioned comfort, Without ever having to swat at a single mosquito. If they'd put in a school, for Tracey and let us sleep in a couple of the display bedrooms at the furniture store, I could live out here and be perfectly happy."

"Not me," Hannah said. "There's something about a controlled environment that makes me crazy. It's too much like being in jail."

Andrea turned to her in surprise. "Have you ever been there? In jail, I mean?"

"No, but that could change in a hurry if Mike finds out what we're doing."

Andrea agreed and dropped the subject, leading the way to the escalator. "Connie Mac's boutique is on the second level, where Greg Canfield's import store used to be."

The two sisters rode up to the second level in silence, and when they stepped off, Andrea sighed deeply. "If they haven't heard about Connie Mac's murder, you're going to tell them, not me. You stuck me with telling Alex and I don't want to do that again."

"Relax," Hannah reassured her. "Unless they're living in a plastic bubble out here, they've heard."

The kitchen boutique was in a prime location in the middle of the mall, only a few feet from the escalator. Giant banners in the window proclaimed, "Grand Opening Monday,' and Andrea and Hannah walked closer to peer in the windows.

"There's a woman inside stocking the shelves," Andrea announced, trying the door and turning back to Hannah with a frown, "but the door's locked."

"Knock."

"But they're closed until their grand opening on Monday. It says so right on the sign."

"Knock anyway." Andrea raised her hand and knocked softly on the glass door.

"She can't hear that. Knock louder." Andrea gave a solid knock on the door, and the woman looked up from her work. Andrea knocked again and the woman walked toward the door, pointing up at the sign.

"Now what?" Andrea asked. "She's not going to let us in."

"Yes, she will." Hannah moved up to the door with a friendly smile on her face and motioned for the woman in the smart business suit to come forward. She looked like some sort of corporate executive. Under other circumstances, Hannah would have avoided her like the plague, but she needed information from someone who'd worked for Connie Mac, and this was her best shot.

"I'm sorry, we're closed," the woman said, raising her voice so that they could hear her. "Come back on Monday for our grand opening."

"I have a question about the china in the window,' Hannah told her, moving right up to the glass.

"Just a moment," the woman answered, turning the lock on the door. She opened it and smiled what Hannah knew was her very best never-lose-a-customer smile.

"We need to buy a wedding present and we're looking for a complete dinner service for twelve. We'll need china, silver, glassware, linens. . . everything, really."

The woman's smile warmed considerably. "I really shouldn't do this since we're not officially open for business, but come in and take a look. I'm Rhea Robinson, and I manage the Connie Mac's Kitchen Boutique chain."

"This is really nice of you." Hannah matched Rhea's brilliant smile. "Our best friend's wedding is next Saturday and we have to find the perfect gift."

"I'm sure you'll find everything you need right here. We have a very extensive selection. I can't actually sell you anything today, but you could pre-choose and come back on Monday. We're giving a fifteen-percent discount to our customers on opening day."

"That's perfect," Hannah said, turning to Andrea. "What do you think of that china in the window?"

Andrea looked startled for a moment. Then she said, "I think she'd really love it."

"How about the glassware?"

"This is beautiful," Andrea said, heading over to a table with some cut-glass crystal goblets. "We should get two water pitchers, one for each end of the table."

"It's Baccarat and it's very expensive," Rhea warned them.

"Price is no object," Andrea told her. "We want to give her the best wedding present that money can buy. How about flatware? You'll have to advise me. I know next to nothing about silver."

Rhea's eyes began to sparkle, and Hannah knew that she was hooked. Now all Hannah had to do was figure out how to ask questions about Connie Mac.

"We have some exquisite gold-plated flatware. It was very popular in the forties and it's come back into fashion. It's the very top of our line, and to make it even more special, it's Connie Mac's original design."

This was just the opening she'd been hoping for, and Hannah did her best to look worried. "I just thought of something. We were listening to the radio on the way out here and we heard that Connie Mac was. . . er . . ."

"Deceased?" Rhea supplied the word. "That's right. It's such a tragedy. And when you mentioned that the gold-plated silverware was her design, that made me worry."

"Worry?"

"Yes. What if our friend wants to buy more pieces, or replace something her staff might break? With Connie Mac dead, these stores could go out of business. We might be better off going to an older, more established place. I'm sure there are others out here at the mall."

"No, there aren't," Rhea said, stepping closer. "Connie Mac refused to sign a lease in any mall that had competing stores. She wanted to keep her image exclusive, and her boutiques are all one of a kind."

"I can understand that," Andrea agreed. "She was one of a kind. But now that she's gone, will her boutiques survive?"

"Of course. We have excellent financing, and our boutiques are very popular. And while it's true that Connie Mac did some product design, we plan to keep on producing unique products with her name. Perhaps I shouldn't say this, but other than the occasional personal appearance, Connie Mac was never actively involved with the boutiques. It's a separate division of Connie Mac Enterprises, and her husband has been in charge since the day we opened our first store."

Hannah said with a smile. "You'll see us back here on Monday, then."

After Rhea had escorted them out and locked the door behind them, Andrea turned to Hannah. "What did we learn?"

"I'm not sure, but I'll write it all down as soon as we get back out to the truck."

"Why don't you do it right now while it's still fresh in your mind?" Andrea pointed to a bench under a potted tree. "And while you're writing, I'll dash in and look for some shoes to go with the dress I bought last week. It shouldn't take more than five minutes."

"Good try, but no dice," Hannah said, grabbing her sister's arm and piloting her to the escalator. Andrea's five minutes would turn into an hour, and she wanted to get out to the dogsled race to tell Norman that he was a suspect.

"There's Norman," Andrea said, pointing toward the finish line, where three judges were gathered in a tight group.

"And he's got his camera." Hannah grinned as she spotted it hanging around his neck. "I guess he's hoping for a photo finish."

The two sisters crunched across the snowy clearing and made their way toward the finish line. They had to stop several times to exchange greetings with the bystanders they knew, and it was slow going. By the time they had navigated the crowd that surrounded the final quarter mile of the course, they'd learned that there 'were only five teams entered because Charlie Jessup had been disqualified for sled runners that were too wide, Eleanor Cox had hand-sewn leather booties for her husband's dogs, Jerry Larson had dropped out only a mile into the race when he'd upended and lost his earmuffs, and Sam Pietre's sled was sporting a schnapps-bottle holder that he'd designed in his metal shop last night.

"Go ahead," Andrea said, spotting Eleanor Cox in the crowd. "I want to ask Eleanor if she really made those booties. You'd better get a move on, though. I can hear the dogs."

Hannah could hear the barking in the distance, and she figured the two-legged contestants with their four-legged transportation were about a mile and a half away. "Okay. I'll pick you up on my way back."

The air was crisp and cold, and Hannah shivered slightly as she ducked under the rope at the side of the course and stepped knee-deep in a snowdrift. She'd have to change jeans, but that wouldn't be a problem. She always kept a change of clothes in the back of her cookie truck.

A wooden platform six feet high had been built at the side of the finish line. Two of the three judges had climbed to the top with binoculars, but Norman was underneath with his camera.

"Norman?" Hannah called out as she approached. Norman turned and a smile spread over his face. Hannah couldn't see it under the ski mask that covered his face, but she could tell he was smiling by the way his eyes crinkled when he spotted her.

"Hi, Hannah. Did you come to see the race?"

"No, I came to see you."

"You did?" Norman's eyes crinkled even more, and Hannah hated to disillusion him. On the other hand, he had to be told. "I came to warn you that you're a suspect in the murder case."

"What?"

Now Norman's eyes were big and startled, and Hannah mentally kicked herself. She'd given him the news with all the subtlety of a bulldozer. "Sorry, Norman. I should have said that better. Bill doesn't suspect you. It's just Mike."

"Oh,' Norman said, and his eyes looked normal again. "I guess I shouldn't have lipped off to him this morning. Okay, Hannah. Thanks for coming all the way out here to tell me."

"Then you're not worried?"

"Not really. Once Mike cools off and thinks about it, he'll know I didn't do it."

"Maybe," Hannah said, trying not to sound too doubtful, "but I think you'd better come up with an alibi. Let's sit together at the banquet tonight and talk about it."

"I'd like that, but I'm not going to the banquet. I have to develop the portraits I'm taking this afternoon and I won't have time. Could we get together later?"

"Sure. I should be home by ten. Why don't you come by my place and I'll buy you a cookie?"

"Sounds good. I'll be there."

Norman's eyes crinkled again and Hannah was glad. At least he wasn't too worried to smile.

"Are you going to stick around for the finish? They should be here soon."

"Sure. I'll make a dash for the sidelines."

"Stay with me and you can have a dog's-eye view. I'm going to be here under the platform. Get on my other side, just in case one of the mushers runs off course."

Hannah took up the position Norman indicated. It was probably crazy, but she felt a lot warmer under the platform, with the illusion of a roof over her head. The barking had grown steadily louder as they'd talked, and Hannah found herself wondering why the dogs ran and barked at the same time. Maybe it was just for the sheer joy of the exercise on such a crisp winter day.

"Here they come, and Otis is in the lead!" a voice yelled out from above.

Hannah wasn't surprised. Otis and Eleanor were dog lovers from way back. When they retired, they'd built a house on Old Bailey Road, just outside the town limits. There, the two-dogs-per-household rule didn't apply, and they'd taken in a host of strays over the past three years. The ones they couldn't find homes for, they kept, and Otis had trained all their huskies and malamutes as sled dogs.

As Hannah watched, the lead musher and his team came over the crest of the hill. It was Otis, and he was still in front.

"Look at his dogs." Norman slipped his free arm around Hannah's shoulder. "They're all smiling."

Hannah didn't point out that huskies and malamutes always appeared to be smiling because of the shape of their faces. It was simply too lovely a sentiment to dash. Actually, the dogs did seem to be having a huge amount of fun. Their tails were high and tightly curled, their tongues were wagging from side to side, and they were barking and yelping in excitement.

"Okay. Here we go!"

Norman dropped to one knee and focused his camera. A few seconds later, Otis and his dogs rushed by at lightning speed. Hannah laughed out loud in sheer pleasure as Otis slowed his dogs at the far end of the course and guided them through the break in the ropes where they would wait for the other contestants.

One by one, the other teams raced by and Norman took pictures of all of them. When he was through, Hannah told him she'd see him later and headed back for the sidelines to collect Andrea.

"Eleanor did make the booties," Andrea told Hannah on their way back to the truck, "and they're going up to the Iditarod next year."

Hannah was surprised. "Does Otis think he can win?"

"Oh, they're just going as tourists. Janice is going to stay at their place for two weeks and take care of their dogs."

Hannah unlocked the doors and they climbed into the cookie truck. It was still slightly warm inside, and it felt good after the bitter cold outside.

"Could you drop me off at the office?" Andrea asked as Hannah pulled out onto the highway. "I have to write up a listing."

"Sure. You got a listing at the race?"

"Eleanor's cousin, Roger, got a job offer in Wisconsin and it was too good to turn down. They were going to rent out their house, but I convinced them that renting was a headache they didn't need, so they're going to sell."

"But didn't they just buy it last year?"

"Seven months ago. I handled the sale."

"If they sell this soon, they'll lose money, won't they?"

"No. Roger converted the basement into two separate bedrooms and put in a full bathroom down there. Now I can relist it as a five-bedroom, three-bath, and that increases the asking price. Best of all, I think I've already got a buyer. I ran into Lelia Meiers at the cleaners yesterday and she's pregnant with twins. She asked me to keep my eye out for a bigger house, and this would be just perfect for them. I called her right away and she wants to see it tomorrow."

"You're amazing," Hannah said, and she meant it. Andrea was always looking for ways to list and sell real estate. It was an ideal job for her, because she could socialize and work at the same time.

"Call me later," Andrea said as Hannah pulled up in front of Lake Eden Realty. "I should be through here in about an hour."