Cinnamon Roll Murder (Hannah Swensen, #15)(83)

Michelle was eating an omelet from the special order breakfast bar when Hannah got back to their table. To Hannah’s way of thinking, ordering an omelet at one of Sally’s breakfast buffets was a waste. Not that they weren’t good. They were. It was just that anybody could make an omelet for breakfast, but it was unlikely that you’d make Swedish pancakes, blintzes, maple sugar glazed ham, and crullers with three different glazes for your own breakfast at home.

Hannah was having a little of all of the above except the omelet. The old adage, Her eyes were bigger than her stomach always came into play when she attended a buffet. She wanted to taste everything, and her plate became loaded with so many different types of food, that it ended up being a crowded palette of foods that failed to retain their individual identity.

“Vonnie?” Delores spoke to Doc Knight’s secretary. “Tell Hannah what you told me about the night of the accident.”

“It’s probably nothing, but I thought it was a little unusual,” Vonnie began, putting down her fork. “When Buddy Neiman came up with his paperwork, I checked through it to make sure that nothing was missing. He’d filled out everything, but I noticed that he had the zip code for Minneapolis wrong. I asked him about it and he looked a little embarrassed. He said he should have written five-five-four-oh-three, but he kept forgetting the zip code. I crossed it out when he gave me the correct one.”

Hannah nodded. So far there wasn’t anything interesting in what Vonnie had told her.

“Well, I got to thinking about his admission form, so I pulled it today to take another look at it. The incorrect zip code Buddy put on his form wasn’t anywhere near Minneapolis. I looked it up and it was a zip code from Seattle.”

Seattle again. Hannah gave a little shake of her head. Seattle just kept cropping up in her investigation.

“That’s not really that unusual,” Doc said, before Hannah could respond. “He was probably in shock due to his injury and the trauma of the accident, and an old zip code popped into his head.”

Delores gave a little laugh. “I did something similar to that once. I was filling out the insurance forms after your dad died, and I put the phone number I had when I was in high school.”

“Lori.” Doc reached out to cover her hand with his. “That was shock, too. You’d just lost your husband, and you wanted to go back to happier times.”

Delores gave him a poignant smile. “You’re right. You always understand.”

“I’m just trying to get onto your good side. I hate to travel alone and I want you to ride down to the lab with me when I take in those DNA samples.”

Delores laughed and the poignant moment dissipated. “Why didn’t you just come out and ask me? I’d love to go with you.”

“I’m going to get another potato pancake,” Vonnie announced, standing up.

“I’ll go with you,” Andrea said, pushing back her chair. “I want more eggs Benedict. That’s something I never get unless I’m out somewhere for breakfast.”

They ate in silence for another couple of minutes, and then Hannah pushed back her chair. She’d tasted everything on her plate, and now it was time for dessert. “I’m going to get one of Sally’s fresh crullers.”

“Wait up, Hannah.” Marlene stood up. “I’ll go with you. I want to get another waffle.”

Hannah glanced over at Marlene’s plate. There was a half-finished waffle on it, but she didn’t point that out. Perhaps Marlene wanted to tell her something in private that she didn’t want the rest of the group to hear.

There was a line at the buffet table. The people ahead of them were deep in their own conversation and there was no one behind them. Hannah turned to Marlene. “What is it?” she asked.

“What is what?”

“You still had half a waffle on your plate. I figured you just wanted the chance to talk to me alone.”

“That must be why you’re such a good detective,” Marlene said, smiling at Hannah. “I don’t know if this is important, but something’s bothering me about Ben.”

“What’s that?”

“I know he got that plum internship in Los Angeles and everything, and I can’t fault him for leaving. Facial reconstructions is his specialty, you know. But before you got here, Doc said he was glad that Ben would be able to spend some time with his family. And Ben told me he didn’t have any family. We stopped for a pizza after work one night, and we got a pitcher of beer to go with our pizza. I don’t like beer very much, so Ben drank most of it. And that was when he told me that his parents died a couple of years ago, and now that his older brother was dead, he didn’t have any family.”

“But Doc said Ben told him he’d get a chance to see his family while he was in California?”

“I know. Maybe Ben was talking about an uncle, or cousins, or something like that. Or maybe he felt he had to give Doc an excuse for leaving so suddenly. There’s also the possibility that Doc got it wrong. It might have been Ben’s friends he was talking about, not his family. It just struck me as inconsistent, that’s all. And things that are inconsistent bother me.”

“Did you mention this to Ben?”

“No, and I won’t. He probably doesn’t even remember he told me that he didn’t have any family. He was pretty buzzed that night. And maybe he just fed me a line to get my sympathy and make me feel closer to him. If that was his intention, it worked.”