Raspberry Danish Murder (Hannah Swensen #22)(78)

“Georgina’s right. What do you want with Pinkie?”

“We want to ask her about her former boyfriend.”

Bobby nodded. “P.K. I heard about his murder. What are you, cops?”

“No,” Hannah said, “but we’re working with them. It’s a really complicated case. That’s why we’d like to talk to Pinkie.”

Bobby began to frown. “Do the cops think she did it?”

Hannah knew it was time to tread carefully. Bobby might have some reason to try to protect Pinkie. “Not really. They just want to know if she has any information that might relate to the case.”

“Like what?” Bobby asked.

“Like whether she knew if P.K. had any enemies that might have wanted to harm him,” Michelle answered him. “They want to know if Pinkie suspects anyone of killing P.K.”

“Okay. I guess that makes sense.” Bobby gave a quick nod. “She might know something. One night she told me that they were together a long time and their romance started way back in high school. She probably knew him better than anybody else.”

“So can you help us find Pinkie?” Hannah asked the most important question.

Bobby shook his head. “I would if I could, but I can’t help you there. I haven’t seen Pinkie for over a month, maybe longer. She might have been around, but she didn’t come in the bar while I was working.”

“Do you know where she lives?” Hannah asked him.

Bobby shook his head. “No. She never said, not exactly. Except . . .”

“What?” Hannah and Michelle asked, almost simultaneously.

“I heard her mention something about paying her rent. And if she owned a house, she would have said house payment instead of rent. It was probably an apartment somewhere because she complained that her neighbors downstairs played their music so loud, she couldn’t sleep in on Sunday mornings. That’s all I know, though.”

“Thanks, Bobby,” Hannah said.

“Sorry I couldn’t help you more,” Bobby told them. “I’d kinda like to know what happened to Pinkie. She was here a lot and then she just dropped out of sight.”

“I’m curious,” Michelle said. “When Pinkie came in here, did she drink a lot?”

“Oh, yeah! Pinkie always had doubles and she had more than one, that’s for sure. The guys in here used to buy her drinks to get on her good side so they could dance with her. Pinkie loved to dance.”

“Did she . . . uh . . . go home with any of them?” Hannah asked.

“Nope. She just danced with them and flirted a little, but that’s it. And then she drove home alone in her pink Jeep.”





Chapter Twenty-four


The sisters were silent as they went out to Hannah’s cookie truck and began the drive back to The Cookie Jar. Both of them were busy mulling over what Bobby had told them. They were just turning at Main Street and First when Michelle spoke. “I don’t know about you, but I think Pinkie was drinking all along and she just pretended not to drink around P.K.”

“I agree. And after a while, the pretense got to her and she just couldn’t do it anymore. It really wasn’t a good relationship. That much is clear.”

“Do you think that one night, when Pinkie was drinking a lot, she might have plotted to kill P.K.?”

“I think it’s possible,” Hannah said, “but there’s no way of knowing for sure. Pinkie could be just another red herring.”

“Pink herring,” Michelle corrected her.

“Or, if what Georgina and Bobby told us about Pinkie’s drinking is true, Pinkie could have been a pickled herring.”

Michelle laughed. “That’s awful, Hannah!”

“I know, but I thought we needed a little levity.”

There was a long moment of silence before Michelle spoke again. “We’ve got to find her, Hannah. Pinkie could be the killer.”

“I know.” Hannah pulled into her parking spot in back of The Cookie Jar. It was cold outside, and she gave a fleeting thought to plugging her car into the strip of electrical outlets that ran along a wooden strip in front of the parking spaces, but she decided that it wasn’t quite cold enough to bother.

“Aren’t you going to plug in your truck?” Michelle asked.

“No, not yet. We’re planning to leave again soon.”

“Where are we going?”

“The library’s not open this afternoon, but Marge always carries the keys with her. I’m going to ask her if she still has a shelf with all the yearbooks from the high schools in our area. If she does, I’ll get the keys to the library from her and we’ll go down to look at the Clarissa High yearbook to see if we can identify Pinkie.”

“That’s a good idea,” Michelle said, “but neither of us has ever seen Pinkie and we don’t know her real name. How are we going to identify her?”

“I’m not sure, but Pinkie went to school with P.K. And a school yearbook usually contains some student photos.”

Michelle looked excited. “You’re right. I didn’t even think of that. There may be a photo of P.K. and Pinkie together!”

“And maybe, if it’s a student photo, she might be called Pinkie in the caption under the photo.”