Carrot Cake Murder (Hannah Swensen, #10)(35)

“And then you…?”

“Offered Gus some lanolin. I had it in my desk drawer because my hands were chapped. And I figured that if it helped my hands, it might be good for Gus’s you-know-what.”

“Makes sense,” Hannah said. “So you gave Gus some lanolin?”

“That’s right. And next time he came in, a week later, he tossed the tube of lanolin on my desk and thanked me.”

“That’s nice.”

“Not really. Because right after he thanked me, he dropped his pants and mooned me to show me that the Board of Education paddle hadn’t left any marks.”

“Oh.” Hannah said, still slightly confused. “But I don’t understand why you’re so nervous about Hal finding out you gave Gus the lanolin.”

“It’s not that,” Rose said. “It’s just that Hal was in the Army with Bill Garrison, and if he ever found out that one of the students Bill disciplined mooned me to show that Bill’s paddling had healed, he’d be really angry at me for not telling Bill about it.”

“I understand,” Hannah said, even though she didn’t. It was another case of chalking it up to sensibilities she didn’t comprehend. “Well, you don’t have to worry. I’m not about to say anything to anybody.”

“I know you won’t.” Rose stood up. “I’d better get back before Hal realizes I didn’t just go to the ladies’ room. Thanks, Hannah. And I really hope you catch Gus’s killer…if it really was Gus.”

Hannah sat there a moment after Rose left, just soaking up the peace of the night. The stars glittered brightly overhead and cast rippling streaks over the water. She could hear the mosquitoes buzzing, but her repellent was still working. It was a perfect summer night except for the puzzle of Gus Klein’s murder.

When she felt capable of actually moving, Hannah got up and went down the steps to the path that led to the parking lot. She passed by the picnic area and heard sounds of merriment and clapping as the slide show continued. She walked on for a minute or two and finally arrived at the public parking lot. She was just about to unlock the door to her cookie truck when someone called out to her.

“Hannah! Wait!”

Hannah stopped with the key in her hand and turned to see Delores rushing down the gravel road. Her mother had exchanged the high-heeled sandals she’d been wearing earlier for a pair of ballet-type flats, but she was hobbling a bit, as if they didn’t fit her.

“What’s the matter with your feet?” Hannah asked, when her mother arrived at the cookie truck.

Delores sighed loudly. “They’re Carrie’s shoes. She always brings an extra pair. But they’re too big and I have to curl my toes to keep them on.” Delores stopped and took several short breaths. “I need to talk to you, Hannah. It’s important.”

“Are you going to give me a lecture about how embarrassing it is for you when I find dead bodies?”

“No.”

Hannah reared back slightly in surprise. “You’re not?”

“I’m not. I’m responsible for this one, Hannah. I asked you to go look for Gus, but I really didn’t think you’d find him dead. It’s all my fault!”

Hannah began to frown. In the bluish light cast by the arc lights that ringed the public parking lot, she could see that her mother was agitated. “Are you trying to tell me you had something to do with his death?”

“Of course not. The last time I saw him was when I left the dance with Carrie at midnight.”

“But you look upset. What is it?”

“Marge and Patsy told everyone that Gus didn’t have any distinguishing marks.”

“That’s right,” Hannah confirmed it, “or at least they didn’t know about any distinguishing marks,” she amended, since she’d found out about one distinguishing mark from three sources so far.

“They wouldn’t necessarily know. Marge’s mother was death on body adornments. Marge really wanted to get her ears pierced, but her mother wouldn’t let her. After Patsy got married, Marge and I went to visit her while Mac was training at Camp Ripley. He was in the National Guard. All three of us went to the doctor and got our ears pierced.”

“That’s interesting, Mother,” Hannah said, even though it wasn’t. And then, despite the fact she didn’t really want to know, she asked, “But what does that have to do with distinguishing marks on Gus Klein?”

“Gus had a tattoo.”

Hannah worked hard to appear unfazed by the question that flashed through her mind. How did her mother know about Gus’s tattoo?

“This is highly embarrassing, but I feel it’s my duty to tell you,” Delores went on, “since you’ve agreed to investigate the murder.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” Hannah blurted out.

“Yes, I do. You see, I dated Gus in high school, long before I met your father.”

Hannah came close to groaning. The best thing to do would be to cut her mother off at the pass, before she could say anymore. “I don’t need to know that, Mother. Was the tattoo two crossed bats with a baseball between them?”

“Yes!”

“And it was on the left of Gus’s backside?”

“That’s right! But how did you…?”