Cinnamon Roll Murder (Hannah Swensen, #15)(4)

“No. We’ve all got bruises, but I’m the worst ... unless you count the bus driver. Lynnette made this split for me. She used to work in a doctor’s office.”

“Lynnette’s a nurse?” Hannah asked.

He shook his head. “She was in charge of the appointment desk, but she used to help the nurses when they got really busy. You know, hand them things and stuff like that.”

“Do you think your wrist is broken?” Michelle asked.

“I don’t think so, but I’m no doctor. I guess I can find out for sure from the paramedics, or the doctors ... if they ever get here.”

You’re pretty impatient considering the accident happened less than five minutes ago, Hannah thought, but she didn’t say it. He’d been injured and she should make allowances for that. “I’m sure they’ll come just as soon as they can,” she said, giving him a comforting smile. “Two ambulances and a fire truck passed us on the way here.”

Michelle stepped closer and examined his splint. “Your splint looks just fine. It’s holding your wrist immobile and that’s exactly what it’s supposed to do. You’ll probably need X-rays when you get to the hospital, but you’re fine for now. Just be careful not to bang it against anything or try to use your right arm. You don’t want to risk injuring it further, especially since you play keyboards.”

“You know me?” he asked, looking pleased.

“Not personally, but I know your music. You’re Buddy Neiman, the keyboard player with Cinnamon Roll Six.”

“That’s right.” Buddy gave her a long, assessing look. “So you’re a fan?”

“I certainly am. Your music is great.”

“Thanks. Hey ... maybe you want to get together for a drink or something after we play tomorrow night.”

Hannah held her breath. She hoped Michelle realized that Buddy was trying to pick her up.

“That would be nice. I’ll be there with my boyfriend and his cousin, Devin. Devin’s your biggest fan, and he’s the one who introduced me to your music. He’s got everything the Cinnamon Roll Six ever recorded, and he plays keyboards with the Jordan High jazz band. He told me he can hardly wait to meet you and tell you how great he thinks you are.”

Hannah watched the play of expressions cross Buddy’s face. There was disappointment in the fact that Michelle had a boyfriend, regret that he’d asked her to have a drink since she’d assumed he was open to including her boyfriend and Devin, and pleased at the compliment to his musical talent. Flattery must have won out in the end, because he smiled.

“I’d like to meet your boyfriend and his cousin,” he said, going into fan mode. “Devin sounds like a nice kid.”

“Oh, he is. He’s pretty talented, too. He’s got a job playing the piano at the Lake Eden Inn during the dinner hour on weekends.”

Enough chit-chat, Hannah’s mind prodded. Get to what’s important.

“You said there weren’t any other serious injuries unless you counted the driver,” Michelle said, almost as if she’d read Hannah’s mind. “What did you mean by that?”

“He’s dead.”

“The driver is dead?” Hannah repeated, just to make sure she’d understood his response.

“That’s what Lynnette said. She went up there to see if he was okay, and when she came back, she told us he was dead. It’s probably why he went off the road in the first place. I’m thinking it must have been a heart attack or something sudden like that. One minute we were traveling along as smooth as silk, and the next minute we were fishtailing across three lanes of traffic and crashing sideways into the ditch.”

“We’d better take a look at the driver to make sure there’s nothing we can do for him,” Michelle said.

“Sounds good. Come on in.”

Buddy held out his uninjured arm, and Michelle hopped nimbly into the bus. It took Hannah a bit longer to get inside, but soon the two sisters were standing at the very back of the bus in the space where the band stored their instruments. The locked cabinets, which had been bolted to the floor, were now hanging upside down over their heads, and they were standing on what looked like a shallow trough, but was really the slightly arched ceiling of the bus.

It was a bit disorienting. The shadows were deep, the interior illuminated only by two strips of emergency LED lights that had been installed on the floor. Those lights were now above their heads, and Hannah could see that close to a dozen people were huddled against the windows on either side.

“The back door’s unlocked if anybody wants to get out,” Buddy announced, “but it’s warmer in here.”

“I think we should all stay here,” an older man spoke up. There were several nods from the group huddled around him, and Hannah could see that he was the leader, unofficially or not. “Better hold onto the pup. He’s so little, we could lose him in the snow.”

Buddy shrugged. “We’re going to have to lose him anyway now that Clay’s dead. He’s the one who stopped to rescue him. And he’s the one who said he’d find him a home.”

“Maybe we can take him,” a girl with long black hair spoke up. “He’s so cute.”

Hannah moved a step closer and saw a tiny puppy face with impossibly big ears peeking out from a blanket on the girl’s lap.