Devil's Food Cake Murder (Hannah Swensen, #14)(73)

“Wow!” Mike said with a sigh as he put down his fork. “That was incredible, Hannah. It had the perfect amount of hot sauce for me.”

“Thanks,” Hannah said, glad that she’d doubled the amount of hot sauce in the recipe for the fiery flavor-loving sheriff’s detective.

Mike reached across the table to pick up the carafe to pour another cup of coffee for Hannah. He refilled his own cup, returned the carafe to its trivet, and gave her a smile. “So how’s the investigation coming?” he asked her.

“Investigation?” Hannah attempted an innocent expression. “You know I like to leave all that to the professionals.”

“Right. Just like you always come to a full and complete stop at every stop sign and never ever go over the speed limit.”

“How’s your investigation going?” Hannah countered. There was no use denying that she was involved in Paul’s murder case. Mike knew better.

“It’s a tough case.”

“Because you’re suddenly investigating Paul’s murder rather than Reverend Matthew’s?”

“Yes, but that’s only part of it. There’s also the history.”

“The fact that they went to school right here in Lake Eden and the murder might relate to that?”

“Exactly.” Mike sat back on the couch and looked at her intently.

“What?” Hannah asked. Mike was staring at her so closely, she almost wondered if she had suddenly sprouted a second nose.

“I wish you weren’t a baker.”

Hannah reared back slightly. “But I thought you liked what I baked!”

“I did. I do! I was just wishing that you were a detective and you were on my team. It’d make life a lot easier.”

“How so?” Hannah asked, knowing full well that she was begging for a compliment. After what Norman had put her through tonight, she could use one!

“Because you’re good at it, better than anybody else on my team. And then I wouldn’t have to be careful about what I say around you.”

“Why do you have to be careful?” Hannah asked, still feeling a warm glow from the compliment.

“It’s police procedure. We’re never supposed to discuss a case with anyone except other law enforcement personnel.”

Hannah gave a little sigh, but secretly she was pleased. Perhaps he hadn’t meant to do it, or perhaps he had, but Mike had opened the door to further discussion of the murder case. “Then I guess I can’t tell you what I learned today,” she said. “If I’m not other law enforcement personnel, you probably can’t take me seriously.”

“I can take you seriously. Detectives get information from many different sources.”

“And sometimes you have to give information to get information, right?”

Mike’s eyes narrowed. “Are you proposing some type of exchange?”

“I’m not proposing anything. I’m just saying that you might have information I’d find interesting, and I might have information that you’d find interesting.”

“Sounds like an exchange to me,” Mike said, clearly amused. “What have you got, Hannah?”

“You first. Mine is something I know you don’t know.”

“Okay…how about the time of death?”

“I’ve already got it. You’ll have to come up with something better than that.”

“The murder weapon?”

“You recovered it?”

“No, but we know what it is.”

Hannah gave a little laugh. “So do I. It was a gun.”

“Yes, but what caliber? What type? You don’t know that, do you?”

“No, but is that important?”

“Not really. Not unless we find it. But just for your information, it was a twenty-two semiautomatic. We found the shell casing.”

“Big whoop!” Hannah said, causing Mike to chortle. “Laugh all you want, but that’s not enough. My information is worth more than that.”

“Give me a little taste and I’ll decide if I should give you something better.”

“Well…okay.” Hannah thought for a moment. “You noticed the birdcage at the crime scene, didn’t you?”

“Of course we did. Rick Murphy lifted the cover and recognized Pete Nunke’s mynah bird.”

“I covered the cage right after I found the body,” Hannah told him.

“Why did you do …” Mike began to smile. “I get it. You didn’t want the bird to see the corpse.”

“Something like that, yes. But Jacob, the bird, saw the whole thing. And mynah birds talk.”

Mike let out a laugh. “And the bird told you who the murderer is?”

“No, but Jacob mimics people’s voices. And he was talking a blue streak at Grandma Knudson’s this afternoon. He said, It’s almost eleven-thirty. I’ve got to get back. And Norman and I recognized the voice.”

“Really!” Mike said, sounding much more interested than he had before. “Who was it?”

“Not quite yet. You haven’t told me anything of interest yet.”

“Okay…how about this? I checked Paul’s prison record. He was in for armed robbery, and he shot a security guard.”