Carrot Cake Murder (Hannah Swensen, #10)(80)

“She’s in the booth with Mike. She turned around to look at us, and I saw her face.”

If ever there was a sobering thought, a thought that could erase all traces of Hannah’s laughter and even her smile, it was the thought of Ronni Ward.

“Are you sure?” she asked, hoping Andrea had laughed herself into a massive hallucination.

“I’m sure. Are you okay, Hannah? You look a little funny.”

“That’s because I’m turning green. You might have been wrong about the croaking, you know?”

Andrea looked worried. “You mean…you’re so jealous, you want to die?”

“Not me. I was thinking more of Ronni Ward. And maybe Mike, too.”

“Are you serious?” Andrea’s worried look grew into something approaching panic.

“Relax. I’m not that jealous. I’m just teasing you, that’s all.”

Andrea let her breath out in a relieved sigh. “For a second there, I thought you were serious. Jealousy can make you…who’s double-oh-seven?”

“What?”

“Whose ring tone is that?”

“What’s a ring tone?”

“I’ll explain later. Your cell phone’s ringing, and the person who’s calling you has the James Bond theme for a ring tone.”

“I was wondering where that music was coming from.” Hannah reached into her purse, pulled out her cell phone, and answered it. She talked for a moment, and then she turned to Andrea. “It’s Norman, calling from Atlantic City.”

“Uh-oh!”

“What’s an uh-oh?”

“Mike’s headed this way. Get up and go to the ladies’ room. I’ll keep Mike busy, and you can talk to Norman in there.”

“It’s weird knowing that I’m talking to you in the ladies’ room at Bertanelli’s,” Norman said.

“I know. It feels strange to me, too.” Hannah glanced around. The bathroom was neat and clean, but it certainly wasn’t a place for lounging or socializing. There was only one place to sit, and Hannah took it. “What time is it there?”

“Almost two in the afternoon.”

“Where are you?”

“At Mood Indigo.”

Hannah was surprised. “It’s open this early?”

“It’s open a lot earlier than this. Alison lets them in every day at eleven in the morning. She said they do a lot of business with the lunch crowd.”

“Who’s Alison?”

“Alison’s the…uh…headliner act at the club.”

“Her name is on the marquee?”

“That’s right.” Norman stopped talking for a moment, and then he came back on the line. “Hold on a second, Hannah. They’re about to start the next act, so it’s going to get really noisy. I’ll try to find a quieter spot.”

Norman must not have put her on hold, because Hannah heard a blast of music, followed by raucous shouts from the audience. She couldn’t quite make out the words, but it sounded like a boisterous crowd.

“This is fine, thanks,” Norman said to someone there.

“Another drink?” a female voice asked.

“No, this orange juice should do it,” Norman told her, and then Hannah heard a door shut and the music faded to a dull roar.

“Sorry about that, Hannah,” Norman said, picking up where they’d left off. “There’s a big lunch crowd today. The construction crew that’s been working down the street got paid.”

“So they went to a nightclub on their lunch hour?”

“That’s right. Except it’s not…” A blast of music drowned out the rest of Norman’s reply, and Hannah began to frown.

“I can’t hear you!” she said.

“I know. Hold on again, okay?”

There was a popping sound over the blaring music, and then Hannah heard Norman say, “Thanks, but I didn’t order champagne.”

A female voice replied, but Hannah couldn’t hear her. She did hear Norman’s laugh, however, and he sounded fascinated by whatever she’d said.

“It’s nice of you to offer, but I’d better pass. I’m talking to my girlfriend.”

There was another inaudible utterance by the female, and Norman laughed again. And then the door shut and the music was muted once again.

“What was all that about?” Hannah asked.

“You don’t want to know. She came in to bring me champagne. It’s what Gus told her to do whenever anyone came into his office and shut the door. It was some kind of signal, I guess.”

“Do they know he’s dead?”

“Not yet. And his name wasn’t Gus here at the club.”

“Then the detective Marge hired was right, and he did change his name.”

“That’s right. If he hadn’t mentioned Mood Indigo, I never would have found a trace of him.”

“What was his name there?” Hannah was curious.

“Grant Kennedy. Sounds impressive, huh?”

“Yes, it does. When are you going to tell his employees at the club that he’s dead?”

“I’ll tell Alison this afternoon when she takes me over to their apartment.”