Candy Cane Murder (Hannah Swensen #9.5)(28)

“It’s paradise,” Hannah said, “especially in the dead of 96

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winter.” It was true. Melinda’s solarium was a paradise requiring only constant temperature and humidity monitoring, and expert gardening. To add to the sensory delights, the indoor garden had two walls and a ceiling made of glass. The frigid winter scene outside was a startling juxtaposition to the lush tropical illusion inside.

“This way,” Norman indicated a path made of smooth round stones. “She said there was a fountain and I can hear falling water.”

Hannah looked down at the stones on the walkway as she followed Norman. She figured they were probably fabricated. As far as she knew, stones were like snowflakes. If you made it your life’s work, you might find two that were exactly the same, but you certainly wouldn’t be lucky enough to find the thousands of identical pebbles it had taken to line Melinda Bergstrom’s solarium walkway.

Hannah hadn’t seen Melinda recently, but the formermodel-turned-wife hadn’t changed one iota. She was seated in a rattan peacock chair by the fountain and she was just as svelte and impeccably groomed as she’d been when she’d strolled down the runway. She was wearing what Hannah assumed was a designer pantsuit made of black velvet that set off her light ash-blond hair and her peaches-and-cream complexion. Her feet were encased in black sandals with stiletto heels, something that gave Hannah pause. Would a grieving widow wear stiletto heels? Perhaps, if she happened to be a former model. But wouldn’t a grieving widow who’d been crying all night and day have swollen eyelids and blotchy cheeks? She’d have to ask Andrea if there was a way to hide prolonged tears with makeup.

“Mrs. Bergstrom.” Norman stepped forward to take Melinda’s outstretched hand. “We’re so sorry for your loss.”

Hannah took her cue from Norman. “This must be a very difficult time for you.”

“Oh, it is. I can’t seem to stop blaming myself. I should CANDY CANE MURDER

97

have gone with Wayne instead of keeping my appointment with Pierre.”

“Pierre from Le Petit Salon?” Hannah asked, naming the exclusive beauty shop downstairs in the mall.

“That’s right. Pierre came up to style my hair at seventhirty, right after they closed the salon. He was still here when the deputies came to tell me that Wayne was … was …”

Melinda gave a quavering sigh and her voice trailed off.

“I’m glad you had someone with you,” Hannah said, filing away the information she’d been given for later. “Cory probably told you, but Norman and I came up to bring you some of my Devil’s Food Cookies. We thought maybe the chocolate might help to make you feel better.”

“How sweet of you!” Melinda accepted the bag Hannah handed her and peeked inside. “They smell so good.”

“They’re very popular down at The Cookie Jar. Have one and tell me if you like them.”

“I really shouldn’t. So many calories. You make them with real butter?”

“Yes.” Of course she made them with real butter. Minnesota was a dairy state and no scientist had yet found a perfect substitute for butter.

“Maybe I’ll have one tonight after dinner.” Melinda folded the bag closed and set it on the rattan table in front of her chair. “Do sit down. Would you care for coffee? Or tea?”

Hannah shook her head. “No, thank you. I’d like to use your powder room, though, if that’s all right.”

Norman shot her a startled look. He knew she’d gone off to the ladies’ room shortly before they’d caught the elevator to the Bergstrom penthouse.

“Certainly. I’ll ring for Emily. She can show you the way.”

“There’s no need to call your maid.” Hannah stood up.

“Just give me directions and I’ll find it.”

“Turn left when you leave here, and then turn to the right 98

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when you get to the next hallway. There’s a guest bath three doors down on your left.”

As Hannah walked away, she heard Norman begin to praise Melinda’s design for the solarium. Norman might not know exactly what she was up to, but Hannah knew he’d keep Melinda busy talking until she got back.

Instead of following Melinda’s instructions, Hannah turned in the opposite direction. She passed a huge master suite and noticed a large piece of mahogany furniture against one wall.

It was a valet stand, the sort of standing rack that held a man’s hat, suit, and shoes. This piece of furniture was a quadruple valet stand with an upholstered bench in the center. Each side was flanked by two valet stands, one raised as high as the mirror in back of the bench, and the one at normal height. The massive piece of furniture was decorated with carvings of stag, and deer, and moose. It was the most magnificent piece of furniture Hannah had ever seen.

Hannah paused, letting her eyes roam the room. This master bedroom was larger than her whole condo. There were walk-in closets on either side of the room and the doors were open. Hannah spotted men’s clothing in one closet, and absolutely nothing in the other. Had Melinda moved out of the master bedroom, unable to bear the loneliness of the suite she’d shared with her husband?

Afraid she might be caught staring for too long, Hannah moved on down the hallway. She turned the corner and passed another bedroom with an open door. This one was obviously Cory’s. There was a shirt hanging just inside the door. It was in a see-through dry cleaner’s bag and she recognized the distinctive gold and silver shirt that Cory had worn the previous evening.