Cinnamon Roll Murder (Hannah Swensen, #15)(5)

“You know we can’t take him,” the brown-haired guy sitting next to her said. “We’re on the road all the time.”

“We can just turn him loose once we get to town,” Buddy suggested. “Maybe somebody will feel sorry for him and take him in.”

“You can’t do that! It’s cold out there, and you know he was almost frozen to death when Clay rescued him. He’s got to have a warm place to sleep and food to eat. He’s so thin I can feel his little ribs right through the blanket. We’ve just got to find somebody to take him in.”

“I’ll take him,” Hannah said, surprising everyone including herself.

“Who are you?” the older man asked her.

“Hannah Swensen. And this is my sister, Michelle. We spotted the bus in the ditch and we came to see if we could help.”

“Nice of you,” the man said. “I’m Lee Campbell, the band manager.”

“Karl Reese. Drums.” A tall gangly redhead with hair almost as curly as Hannah’s spoke up. “And this is my girlfriend, Penny.”

“Glad to meet you,” Penny said. “Thanks for coming to help us out.”

The girl holding the puppy gave Hannah a shy smile. “I’m so glad you’re taking this little guy. He’s been through a lot, and he’s really a good puppy.”

“My wife, the patron saint of anything with fur,” the brown-haired man sitting next to her said. “She’s Annie and I’m Tommy Asch. I play sax and clarinet.”

“Conrad Bergen. Bass,” the guy who looked like the boy next door in so many old movies introduced himself.

“I’m Eric Campbell,” the guy with long, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail gave them a smile. “And he’s Drake Mason,” he introduced the bald, slightly heavyset guy sitting next to him. “We’re brass.”

“I’m Cammy.” The girl with an extremely low-cut sweater told them. “I travel with the band.”

The bleached blonde sitting next to her gave both of them an assessing look to see if they might be competition. “And I’m Lynnette. We help the boys set up and ... uh ... things like that.”

Hannah was not about to ask what things like that meant. Instead she said, “I understand the driver is dead?”

“Yeah. I went up there to check on him. He was dead.”

“Did you try to find a pulse?” Michelle asked her.

“Do I look like an idiot? Sure I tried to find a pulse. There wasn’t any, and he wasn’t breathing either. I’ve got some medical training, you know.”

Of course you do, Hannah’s mind replied. You know how to say “Doctor will see you at ten on Thursday, Mrs. Smith. Please let us know twenty-four hours in advance if you can’t keep your appointment.” But instead of voicing her thoughts, she asked, “Do you mind if I take a look, Lynnette? Sometimes those pulse points can be very difficult to find, especially if the patient is comatose. It’s not that I don’t trust you. I’m sure you know what you’re doing. It’s just that if I don’t check to make certain, I could lose my license.”

“Oh. Well ... sure! That’s different. Have at it.” Lynnette dismissed her with a wave. “No way I’m going up there again. Clay looked really creepy.”

Wonderful! Hannah’s mind replied. I can hardly wait to see what you think is creepy. But of course she didn’t say a word. She certainly wasn’t looking forward to a trip to the front of the bus. It would be a test of agility because she’d have to walk in the metal trough that formed the high part of the upside down ceiling, but she wanted to spare her sister the sight of the dead driver. She turned to Michelle and chose her words carefully. If Michelle thought she was needed, she’d come along even if the prospect was daunting. “I’ll go check on the driver. You stay here and see if you can help anyone else.”

“No way. I’m going with you.”

“But you don’t have to ...”

“Yes, I do.” Michelle insisted. “I don’t want to lose my license either.”

The trip up the nonexistent aisle wasn’t easy. The way Hannah assessed it, they had two choices. They could walk upright, putting one foot directly ahead of the other and risk losing their balance, or they could straddle the very center of the ceiling and walk with their feet spread out several feet apart. Hannah opted to straddle the steepest part of the ceiling and they preceded forward, small step by small step, with their arms extended out from their sides for balance.

Michelle waited until they were out of earshot and then she tapped Hannah on the arm. “What license are we in danger of losing if we don’t do this?”

“Uh ...” Hannah thought fast. “I think that would be our Good Sense license. I’m willing to bet that Lynnette didn’t even know how to check for a pulse.”

“I’ll buy that.”

The two sisters made their way toward the front of the bus. The dim glow from the strips of LED lights was cold and blue, and everything, even ordinary things like bus windows and shades, seemed eerie and unreal. Most of the bus seats had fallen open into a reclining position, and hung above their heads flapped out like giant prehistoric bats.

When they reached the front, Michelle glanced around. There was no one slumped by the walls or spread out on the ceiling that was now the floor. “I don’t see the bus driver. Where is he?”