Chapter Eight
“H
ere she comes!” Claire warned.
“Thanks,” Hannah replied. She was sitting sideways on a settee in Claire's dressing room with her feet tucked up and her steno pad open to a fresh page in front of her.
“I'm ready,” Michelle said from the opposite end of the settee. She'd assumed the same position and also held a notepad in one hand and a pen in the other.
“Come in, Mrs. Bascomb.” Claire's voice carried easily to the dressing room. “I have everything all ready for you.”
“Good. I don't have much time this afternoon. I'm meeting a friend for afternoon tea, and then Richard and I have a dinner party we must attend. Mayoral duties, you know.”
Michelle rolled her eyes up toward the ceiling, and Hannah smiled at her youngest sister. Both of them knew that Stephanie had no plans for tea. If Stephanie was meeting a friend for tea, then
tea
was a euphemism for Stephanie's new favorite drink, a lemon drop vodka martini.
The doorknob on the dressing room rattled as Stephanie tried the door. But Claire had everything under control. “Please use the larger dressing room, Mrs. Bascomb. I've hung your lovely choices in there. The lighting's much better than it is in this one.”
“Of course.”
Michelle and Hannah heard the door to the adjacent dressing room open and then close again, and Hannah put her finger to her lips. Michelle nodded, and both of them were completely silent as they waited for Claire to engage Stephanie in conversation. Claire knew exactly what they needed to know. They'd gone over it all this morning.
For long moments, there were no sounds except the rustling of cloth and the scratchy sound of zippers being closed. Then, at last, they heard the door to the adjacent dressing room open.
“Claire?” Stephanie Bascomb called out.
“Right here, Mrs. Bascomb,” Claire answered. Her voice was a bit louder than Stephanie's, and Hannah realized that Claire must be standing just outside the dressing room where they were hidden.
“What do you think? Is it a bit tight over the hips?”
There was a pause, and Hannah assumed that Claire was assessing the fit.
“No, I think it's perfect,” Claire gave her opinion. “Of course, if it makes you uncomfortable, I can always let it out a little over the hips, but I think it looks stunning on you just the way it is. It's too bad you didn't have this last night when you went out to dinner with the mayor.”
“Oh, that's all right. We had to cancel anyway. Richard's meeting with the town council lasted until eight-thirty, and our reservations were for eight. We settled for going out for drinks and appetizers with Del Woodley. He's on the council, you know.”
“I haven't seen Del in a while. He's well?”
“He seems to be, especially now that Benton has moved to Lake Eden permanently and taken over production at DelRay Manufacturing. Del was working too hard, and after Judith was gone, he had no social life at all.”
“But now he does?”
“Oh, yes! Danielle has been very good for him.”
This time Hannah did turn to look at Michelle, who appeared every bit as shocked as Hannah was.
“Danielle Watson?” Claire asked.
“Yes. Del called her right after the council meeting and invited her to join us for drinks last night.”
“Danielle Watson is dating Del Woodley?”
“Heavens no!
Benton
is dating Danielle. And just between you and me, I think it could be serious. But Benton was still at the plant last night, and Danielle didn't want Del to feel that he was a third wheel. She's a very nice person, you know. She makes sure that Del is included in a lot of their social events. She even acts as a hostess for Del on the rare occasions when Del entertains.”
Hannah jotted a note in her book to call Danielle Watson at her dance studio. If drinks with the mayor had lasted any longer than ten-thirty or eleven, Mayor Bascomb was in the clear.
“I'm sorry that you didn't get to go out to dinner, but that still sounds like a nice evening,” Claire commented.
“Oh, it was. Richard came to the house to pick me up, and Del was already in the car. I joined them, and then we stopped to pick up Danielle at her dance studio. Richard was going to invite his sister, Tory, to join us but she was tied up with the people from the Christmas play.”
“Has Del been dating Tory?” Claire asked, and Hannah felt like applauding. It was precisely the question she would have asked.
“Yes, a few times. They're both very well off, you know. I think both of them are comfortable with each other. Del knows that Tory isn't a gold-digger, and she knows that Del isn't after her money. It's difficult for people with money to find suitable companions, don't you think?”
“Well . . .”
“Of course you wouldn't really know about that,” Stephanie cut off any answer that Claire might have given, thereby proving that she didn't give a fig about Claire's opinion on social matters.
“Was it a late evening?” Claire asked Stephanie.
“I didn't notice the time. Why do you ask? Do I look tired?”
“Not at all. You look fresh as a daisy and absolutely fabulous in that lovely outfit.”
“Good. I'd better try on another one. We're wasting my time, chatting about inconsequential things.”
“Of course,” Claire responded quickly. “Try on the claret-colored pantsuit, Mrs. Bascomb. That color is so lovely on you.”
“Yes. Isn't it.”
It was a statement, not a question, and Hannah rolled her eyes ceiling-ward. Their mayor's wife was not shy and demure when compliments were offered.
“Come with me, Claire,” Stephanie commanded. “I'll need help with those small buttons in the back.”
The door to Stephanie's dressing room opened with a click. Hannah listened to the sound of two sets of footfalls entering the dressing room. She waited until the door clicked closed again, and then she turned to motion to Michelle. They had the information they needed, and they could sneak out while Stephanie Bascomb was trying on the pantsuit. And then they could dash back to The Cookie Jar to pick up some kind of sweet treat for Danielle, hurry down the street to her dance studio, and find out exactly what time drinks with the first family of Lake Eden had ended on the previous evening.
* * *
When they returned to The Cookie Jar, they found Lisa in the kitchen. “You look like you're in a hurry,” she said as they rushed in the door.
“We are,” Hannah told her. “Stephanie Bascomb just mentioned that she went out for drinks last night with the mayor. And Del Woodley. And Danielle joined them.”
“Claire asked Stephanie what time that was,” Michelle added, “but Stephanie didn't remember. My guess is that Stephanie had twee martoonis, or maybe more.”
Hannah laughed. “You got that phrase from Dad, didn't you?”
“Yes. It used to crack me up when he said it. I always wanted to use it, but the time was never right . . . until now.”
“So rather than go straight to the dance studio, you came back here to get something to take to Danielle,” Lisa guessed. “Is that right?”
Michelle looked impressed. “That's very good, Lisa. You figured out Hannah's M.O.”
“Of course I did. I've seen her do this before. Hannah always brings something tasty to exchange for information. It's the barter system. She makes people happy and content, and they tell her exactly what she needs to know. And they don't even know they're doing it.”
Hannah began to frown slightly. “You're right, Lisa. But it doesn't sound very nice when you put it that way. And . . . actually . . . I've never really thought of it that way before.” She stopped and considered it for a moment or two. “It
is
the barter system. Do you think that what I'm doing is wrong?”
“Not at all!” Lisa responded quickly. “You always bring something when you go somewhere. And there's nothing wrong with asking for information. After all, you're trying to catch a murderer.”
“And she's trying to prove that the murderer's not you,” Michelle added.
Lisa smiled. “There's that, too. I do have a vested interest. And it just so happens I've got the perfect treat for you to take to Danielle.”
“What?” Hannah asked.
“You'll see.” Lisa hurried to the walk-in cooler, disappeared inside, and returned with a tray of candy. “I happen to know that Danielle loves caramels. Try these and tell me what you think.”
Hannah and Michelle each took a piece and bit into it. And then both of them smiled.
“Incredible!” Hannah pronounced.
“You said it!” Michelle took another bite. “These are worth a boatload of information.”
“They're the chocolate caramels I told you about yesterday. Marge took over for me out front and I made a batch and stuck them in the cooler. And a couple of hours later, I came back here and wrapped them in wax paper. I hope Danielle likes them. And I hope she knows something about the murder. It's really unnerving to be a suspect.”
* * *
“I've never been up here before,” Michelle said, as Hannah pulled open the heavy door a few feet from the entrance to the Red Owl Grocery store.
“You'll love it. It was just an empty space until Danielle rented it, but it has big floor-to-ceiling windows in the front and Danielle's walled off part of the back for living quarters.”
Hannah led the way up the long, carpeted staircase. As they climbed, she gestured toward the walls. “What do you think?”
“Very clever.” Michelle obviously admired the sets of footsteps that diagrammed classic dances, each set depicted in a different color. “Listen, Hannah. I think I hear a waltz.”
“You do. Danielle must have an adult class.”
As they climbed, the music changed to a polka. “Music for a wedding reception?” Michelle guessed.
“It sounds like it. Danielle mentioned that wedding parties were a big part of her business.”
“Because of the first bride and groom dance?”
“Yes, but there's a new trend around Lake Eden. After the bride and groom dance, the whole wedding party gets out there for the next dance. And then the bride's mother dances with the groom's father, and the groom's mother dances with the bride's father.”
“That's a lot of dancing. Who started all that anyway?”
Hannah shrugged. “I don't know, but I wouldn't put it past Danielle. She's always looking for ways to increase her business.”
The music switched again and a slow dance began to play. It rolled out in a wave to greet them as Hannah opened the studio door. “Let's wait right here in the reception area until Danielle's class is over.”
It turned out that they were in luck because right after the slow dance had ended, the music stopped and a few moments later, Danielle's customers began to emerge from the practice room and file out. After Hannah and Michelle had greeted the people they knew and exchanged pleasantries with the ones they didn't, Danielle came out and saw them sitting there.
“Hi, Hannah. Michelle. How are you?”
“We're fine,” Hannah said, handing her the bag Lisa had filled for her. “We brought you something.”
“Oooh!” Danielle began to smile as she peeked inside. “Candy! What kind is it?”
“Chocolate caramels that Lisa made.”
“I love caramels.” Danielle held out the bag. “Would you like one?” she offered.
“We already tested them down at The Cookie Jar,” Michelle told her. “We wanted to make sure they were as good as they looked. Do you have a few minutes to talk, Danielle?”
“I have at least a half hour before my next class comes in. Come with me, and I'll put on the coffee.” Danielle led them into the interior. They walked through the class area and into her living quarters. It was one large area, almost like an artist's loft, with a bedroom that was cordoned off with a curtain, a living room with a sofa and an easy chair, a tiny bathroom off to the side of the bedroom alcove, and a small, but workable kitchen.
“Sit down.” Danielle gestured toward her kitchen table. “I'm sure you're here for a reason, and it's probably not for dance lessons.”
“You're right,” Hannah told her, noticing the coffee machine on Danielle's counter. “I thought you drank tea, Danielle.”
“I do. Benton gave me this machine, and it makes both tea and coffee.” She held up a small cup-like pod. “Would you like French roast, Italian roast, or espresso?”
“French roast,” Hannah answered, choosing her favorite.
“The same for me,” Michelle concurred.
“Just listen,” Danielle said as she put a coffee pod into the machine and set an empty cup on the tray below. “It pokes holes in the pod and forces hot water through. And it takes less than a minute.”
Hannah and Michelle watched as the machine worked. And less than a minute later, Hannah had her cup of coffee. Another thirty seconds or so, and Michelle had hers. And then Danielle made her cup of tea.
“You look too serious for a social visit,” Danielle said as she sat down. “Is this about Phyllis Bates?”
“Yes,” Hannah answered.
“And you're investigating?”
“That's right. I have to find the killer, Danielle. Lisa is a suspect and it's the only way I can clear her.”
“She doesn't have an alibi?”
“No. We were together until nine at The Cookie Jar, but then she drove home to feed her dogs and let them run in the yard, and I went straight out to The Corner Tavern. She didn't meet me there until around ten.”