Red Velvet Cupcake Murder (Hannah Swensen, #16)(20)

Barbara was silent for a moment and then she tried to nod. It must have hurt to move her head, because an expression of pain flickered across her face. “You’re right,” she said. “What was your name again?”

“It’s Delores.”

“Oh, yes.” She turned to look at Hannah. “And you are . . . the daughter.”

“Yes, I’m Delores’s daughter,” Hannah replied, thankful that Doc Knight had mentioned the swelling in Barbara’s brain and how it had affected her ability to remember proper names. “My name is Hannah.”

“Yes. Hannah. I’ll try to remember. It’s just so sad about my father. I only got to know him for a little while. And I really wanted to see him again.”

She’s cuckoo bananas! the outspoken part of Hannah’s mind commented.

Be quiet and show a little sympathy! Hannah responded in an internal dialogue. Barbara has a head injury. Doc Knight warned us that she might say some bizarre things.

Hannah checked the time on her waterproof watch. She’d ruined several previous watches by forgetting to remove them before rinsing out mixing bowls at The Cookie Jar. They had already been here for three minutes. Doc Knight had placed a five-minute limit on their visit and it was time to ask the important questions before Barbara’s nurse came to get them and escort them out.

“Do you remember calling me early this morning?” Hannah asked, getting right to the heart of the matter.

Barbara looked as surprised as anyone with facial swelling, scrapes, and bruises could look. “I called you?”

“You did. You called at a little after four.”

“Are you sure?”

“It sounded like you on the phone. And when I asked if it was Barbara, you said yes.”

“It must have been me then. But I . . .” Barbara stopped and took a quick breath. “I don’t remember calling you.”

Hannah gave Barbara a moment to compose herself. It was apparent that she was becoming agitated again. While she was waiting, Hannah glanced at the phone sitting on top of the stand sitting next to Barbara’s hospital bed. It was definitely within Barbara’s reach. Doc Knight had told them that Barbara had trouble remembering things, but that he was hopeful her memory would improve once the swelling in her brain went down.

“Why did I call you? What did I say?”

She sounded much calmer and Hannah knew it was time to ask the question that would upset Barbara the most. “You said that your fall wasn’t an accident, that someone tried to kill you.”

“Someone tried to kill me,” Barbara said, and Hannah wasn’t sure if she was simply repeating the accusation in surprise, or whether she was confirming it. “I wonder who it was.”

Hannah and Delores exchanged glances again. This conversation was becoming very strange.

“I have to think,” Barbara said and then there was a long moment of silence. The only sounds in the room were the hum of Barbara’s IV and the soft beeping of the various pieces of electronic monitoring equipment that were arranged around Barbara’s bed. Finally, when the waiting had become almost unbearable, Delores cleared her throat.

“Did someone try to kill you, Barbara?” she asked.

Barbara hesitated for a moment, as if she was reluctant to say. The pain lines around her mouth whitened and drew taut when she finally dipped her head. “Someone tried to kill me.”

This time it was definitely a confirmation. And that meant the most important question had to come next.

“Who was it?” Hannah asked her.

Barbara gave a sigh that sounded so heartbroken that tears formed in Hannah’s eyes. But she couldn’t stop now. Barbara had admitted that someone had attempted to kill her. “Who tried to kill you, Barbara? I need to know.”

“He did,” Barbara answered in a shaking voice. “I . . . I never thought he’d do something like that. I . . . I wanted him to love me.”

“I need to know his name,” Hannah pressed on, even though Barbara was visibly agitated. “You have to tell me, Barbara.”

Barbara took a deep breath that must have been painful because she gave a little moan. “I remember now,” she said at last. “My brother tried to kill me!”

“Barbara doesn’t have a brother,” Delores told her as they walked down the hallway toward Doc Knight’s office. Today she was wearing her bright yellow blazer and she gleamed like a ray of sunshine against the pale green walls.

“Could he be dead like her father? Barbara said she wanted to see him again and he’s dead. Maybe she thought she was dying and she was going to see them in the hereafter.”

Delores considered it for a moment. “That might be what she thought when she mentioned her father, but I know for a fact that Barbara’s mother had only one child and that child was Barbara. I’m almost sure I heard your grandmother say that there were complications when Barbara was born and Mrs. Donnelly couldn’t have any more children.”

“Did she have a hysterectomy?” Hannah mentioned the first thing that occurred to her.

“I have no idea. That was years ago, when I was a child. Adults didn’t discuss anything like that in front of children. The only reason I remember as much as I do is that your grandmother shushed my mother and pointed to me. And then she said something about little pitchers.”