Cinnamon Roll Murder (Hannah Swensen, #15)(3)

Hannah and Michelle traveled forward on the access road, grateful that they weren’t in the path of the approaching emergency vehicles. They spotted three squad cars, two ambulances, and the Lake Eden fire truck. All had sirens wailing and lights flashing as they approached the accident scene.

“It’s bad,” Michelle said, as they got close enough to see the twisted wreckage.

“I know. Look up there on the left about fifty feet ahead. There’s a bus upside down in the ditch. And there’s so much wreckage spread out on the road, I don’t think the emergency vehicles can get to it.”

“You’re right. They’ll have to hike in and it’s a ways. Let’s get as close as we can on the access road and walk in through the ditch. I took a class in first aid and maybe I can do something to help. At least we can try to get the bus doors open so the passengers can get out.”

Hannah drove forward until she was adjacent to the overturned bus. Then both sisters got out of Hannah’s cookie truck and hurried down the steep, tree-lined bank.

“Careful,” Hannah warned. “It could be muddy at the bottom of the ditch.”

Michelle reached the bottom first and turned back. “It’s still frozen. It must be because it doesn’t get any sun with all these trees.”

The snow was deep at the bottom of the ditch and the two sisters waded through it with some difficulty. Then they started up the steep bank on the other side and made their way toward the overturned bus.

“I don’t hear anything,” Michelle said as they got closer to the bus. “Maybe everyone inside is okay and they’re just waiting for someone to come and help them get out.”

Or maybe everyone inside is unconscious or dead, Hannah thought, but she didn’t say it. That was speculation on her part, and there was no sense in upsetting Michelle until they were able to get inside the bus and assess the situation for themselves.

“It looks like a charter bus,” Michelle commented as they got closer. “There aren’t any regular busses painted gold. I wish I could read what it says on the side, but the letters are upside down and backwards.”

“It’s the band bus.”

“What band?”

“The Cinnamon Roll Six.”

“How do you know that?”

“It says Cinnamon Roll Six on the side.”

Michelle was silent for a moment, trying to make out the letters. “You could be right. Can you actually read it, or are you just guessing?”

“I can read it. I taught myself to read backwards and upside down when you and Andrea were kids and I was helping you with your homework.”

“But why did you have to learn to read upside down and backwards?”

“It was easier than getting up and walking around to read over your shoulders.” Hannah reached out to grab Michelle’s arm. “Careful of that pine branch. The bus snapped it off and it’s sticking up like a spear.”

Another twenty feet and they had arrived at the back of the bus. It was wedged between two trees and it had obviously rammed into a third, even larger tree. From the wide swath the bus had cut through the spirea and gooseberry bushes, it had obviously rolled over and slid on its top to the place where it was now lodged.

“We can’t get in the passenger door,” Michelle said, walking around the bus. “It’s blocked by those tree branches. Don’t most charter busses have an escape hatch cut into the top?”

“Yes, but the top of the bus is now the bottom, and it’s buried in several feet of snow. We’ll have to get in through the back door. Come on, Michelle. Let’s go.”

Both sisters headed around the bus, lifting pine branches as they went. When they arrived at the rear, Hannah attempted to open the door. “I can’t get it open,” she reported, stepping back with a disappointed sigh. “The handle won’t budge.”

“It must be locked from the inside.”

“You’re right. Let’s see if anybody inside can hear us.”

“Hello?” Michelle called out. “Are you okay in there?”

They waited a moment or two, but there was no answer. Hannah stepped closer and yelled as loudly as she could. “We need someone to open the back door. Can anyone get there to unlock it?”

The only sounds they heard were the distant sirens of emergency vehicles speeding to the accident site, and the wind whistling through the pines. Inside the locked bus, all was ominously silent.





Chapter Two


The two sisters waited breathlessly. Hannah was almost positive that they were thinking the same dire thought. Was everyone dead inside the bus? Or were they so badly injured they couldn’t even call out?

“I can do it,” a faint voice came from the interior of the bus. “I was riding in the back. Give me a minute and I’ll get there.”

Several moments later there was the sound of a lock clicking, and the back door swung open to reveal a handsome but haggard-looking man with strips of cloth wrapped around his wrist. The cloth strips were holding a screwdriver in place as a makeshift brace. “Are you doctors?”

“No,” Michelle answered. “I’ve had first aid training, but that’s about it.”

“Who are you then?”

“Two passing motorists who came to help,” Hannah explained as quickly as she could. “It may take the paramedics some time to get to you. The road’s blocked by the wreckage and they’ll have to hike in over half a mile. Is anyone inside badly injured?”