Fudge Cupcake Murder (Hannah Swensen, #5)(21)

"Not yet," Hannah answered with a grin. "She keeps promising, but I don't think she's quite ready to give it up."

Andrea looked thoughtful. "Maybe she's afraid that if people know how to make it, it'll hurt her sales at the cafй."

"That wouldn't happen." Nettie seemed convinced. "Most people don't have time to bake. I never did. Now I almost wish I had. What Jim really wanted was a movie wife."

"A what?" Andrea asked.

"A movie wife. You know the type. She's a great mother, she cooks like a dream, she wears makeup and dresses up even when she's cleaning out the cupboards, and she always puts her husband first. I tried to be the wife Jim wanted, and I think I succeeded when Jamie was alive. But after our son died, it started to feel more and more like a farce." Several tears rolled down Nettie's cheeks and she brushed them away with the side of her hand. "So when are you going to start grilling me?"

Andrea gulped. "Grilling you?"

"You and Hannah are investigating my husband's murder, aren't you?"

"Yes, but…"

"You girls will have to put me down as a suspect. You won't be doing a good job if you don't. I'm strong enough to have hit Jim over the head and dragged him to that dumpster. And Kate Maschler, bless her nosy little soul, saw me arguing with Jim on the day he was killed."

"What about?" the question was out of Hannah's mouth before she could rephrase it politely.

"I really don't want to go into that, Hannah. It's personal and it can't possibly have any bearing on Jim's murder."

"Okay," Hannah said. She recognized a stubborn look when she saw it and she knew Nettie wouldn't say another word about the argument she'd had with her husband.

"Unless you girls can come up with a more likely candidate, I'm the prime suspect."

Andrea shot Hannah a look of pure desperation, and Hannah knew that the response would be up to her. She'd heard Delores say that Nettie could be candid, but she hadn't expected her to be quite that outspoken. "You're a suspect, but we don't think you did it."

"Why not?"

"Why follow your husband to the school and take the chance that someone might see you kill him? A wife can find a more secluded place."

Nettie thought about that for a moment. "I can see your reasoning on that. But if I didn't kill him, who did?"

"That's what we were hoping you could tell us," Andrea chimed in. "Did Sheriff Grant have any enemies?"

Nettie just stared at her for a moment and then she started to laugh, an incongruous reaction from a woman whose cheeks were wet with tears. She laughed until tears of mirth mingled with her tears of grief and then she stopped with a quivering sigh. "Yes," she said. "And we'll be here all night if I name all of them."





Chapter Nine





Hannah was in the middle of serving coffee and cookies to the St. Jude Society the following day, when Andrea came rushing into the basement of St. Peter's Catholic Church, almost mowing down Father Coultas in the process. She arrived at Hannah's side breathless, but there was a huge smile on her face. After a few gasps of air and a gulp of the water that Hannah handed her, Andrea was calm enough to speak. "Gus York found some notes he took on that timesharing call. He scribbled them on the back of his gas bill. The name of the company is ‘Fun in the Sun' and they're based out of Fort Lauderdale, Florida."

"And you checked with them to see if they called your house?" Hannah asked, pouring a cup of coffee and handing it to Bridget Murphy.

"Yes," Andrea answered, moving behind the catering table to pour tea for Immelda Giese, the housekeeper who had been with Father Coultas since the day he'd arrived in Lake Eden. "These cookies look great. What are they?"

"Hannah's Bananas," Immelda told her. "Hannah made them just for me. Have one, dear. Bananas have potassium and they're good for you, especially when you're p.g."

Andrea looked confused and Hannah nudged her. "Pregnant."

"Oh. Right." Andrea reached out and took a cookie. "And Hannah made these just for you?"

"That's right, dear. Father just loves my banana bread. I usually bake it for him every week, but we're waiting for a new oven in the parish house. When Hannah said she'd make banana cookies, we were thrilled."

Andrea bit into the cookie and started to smile. "These are wonderful, Hannah."

"They're almost as good as Immelda's banana bread," Hannah said diplomatically, and she noticed that the housekeeper looked pleased as she left the line to find a seat.

The next few minutes were taken up with serving coffee and cookies, but soon the members of the St. Jude Society were content and Hannah and Andrea could talk.

"So what did the people at Fun in the Sun tell you about calling Bill?" Hannah asked.

"They're going to get back to me. The supervisor had to request the records and that might take overnight, but she should have them by tomorrow afternoon at the latest. She promised to call me on my cell phone the minute they came in."

"Good work," Hannah said, smiling at her sister. If anyone else had told Hannah that a telephone solicitor would call with information, she wouldn't have believed it. But Andrea had a way of making people do whatever she wanted them to do. It wasn't simple manipulation, because everyone felt good about helping Andrea in the process.