Carrot Cake Murder Part 27

"Why don't you just order a garbage pizza and tell me to hold the anchovies? If you order that way, it'll save you a dollar fifty."

"Good tip!" Hannah said.

"It sure is." Andrea looked delighted. "We'll be sure to double that and add it on to what we would have given you anyway."

"I can't believe we ate the whole thing!" Hannah said, staring down at the empty pizza pan.

"Neither can I. I don't know what got into us."

"That would be pizza," Hannah said, laughing as she glanced around the room. It was filling up for lunch and...

"What is it?" Andrea asked, when Hannah's laughter stopped abruptly.

"Deja vu. Again."

"Very funny," Andrea said, but when she caught sight of Hannah's face she began to frown. "What's wrong, Hannah?"

"Remember the time we came in here for lunch and we spotted Mike with Shawna Lee?"

"I remember. You were really upset."

"That's what I meant about deja vu."

Andrea looked truly mystified. "What are you talking about, Hannah? Mike can't be here with Shawna Lee. She's dead!"

"I know that. It's not Shawna Lee. It's somebody else, but it's like deja vu because they're sitting in the same booth and she's wearing a tight yellow sweater."

Andrea glanced over at the booth in question. "It's silk," she said. "I can tell from here. She's got clothes sense, whoever she is."

"Do you recognize her?" Hannah asked.

"No. All I can see is the back of her head. Nice hair, but she could be anyone. We'd better look away, Hannah. We're staring too much."

"Why should we look away? They're sitting with their backs to us. They won't know we're staring."

"You don't know that for sure. They might."

"How? Do you think they have eyes in the backs of their heads?"

"Of course not, but maybe one of them is sensitive."

"Sensitive?"

"Like Grandma Elsa," Andrea explained. "I had to sit next to her at church, remember?"

"I remember."

"Well, she used to whisper to me if she thought someone was staring at her, and I'd turn around and look. She was always right. She said she could feel their eyes boring right into the back of her head."

"And you think Mike and that woman, whoever she is, might be able to feel us staring at them?"

Andrea gave a little shrug. "Maybe."

"Okay. We won't stare then. We'll just get up and go over there to see who it is."

"But..." Andrea hesitated, and then she shook her head. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why? We're all adults here."

"Maybe, but your voice is tight. "

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"It means you're all wound up. It's like that windup frog toy Mother bought for Bethany. You wind it and it puffs up. And when you let it go, it spins all over the floor and croaks."

"And you think that if I walk over to find out who that woman is, I'll spin all over the floor and croak?"

Andrea thought it over for a moment, and then she sighed deeply. "Well, maybe not the croaking part."

That did it. Hannah started to laugh. The mental image was just too much to handle.

"Shh!" Andrea warned her. "If you laugh too much, everybody's going to look at us."

Of course that made Hannah laugh harder. And since laughter was contagious, it was too much for Andrea to resist. She began to laugh, too, until both of them were nearly howling with mirth.

"Ronni Ward!" Andrea gasped, clutching Hannah's arm.

"What?" Hannah asked, still in the throes of laughter.

"She's in the booth with Mike. She turned around to look at us, and I saw her face."

If ever there was a sobering thought, a thought that could erase all traces of Hannah's laughter and even her smile, it was the thought of Ronni Ward.

"Are you sure?" she asked, hoping Andrea had laughed herself into a ma.s.sive hallucination.

"I'm sure. Are you okay, Hannah? You look a little funny."

"That's because I'm turning green. You might have been wrong about the croaking, you know?"

Andrea looked worried. "You mean...you're so jealous, you want to die?"

"Not me. I was thinking more of Ronni Ward. And maybe Mike, too."

"Are you serious?" Andrea's worried look grew into something approaching panic.

"Relax. I'm not that jealous. I'm just teasing you, that's all."

Andrea let her breath out in a relieved sigh. "For a second there, I thought you were serious. Jealousy can make you...who's double-oh-seven?"

"What?"

"Whose ring tone is that?"

"What's a ring tone?"

"I'll explain later. Your cell phone's ringing, and the person who's calling you has the James Bond theme for a ring tone."

"I was wondering where that music was coming from." Hannah reached into her purse, pulled out her cell phone, and answered it. She talked for a moment, and then she turned to Andrea. "It's Norman, calling from Atlantic City."

"Uh-oh!"

"What's an uh-oh?"

"Mike's headed this way. Get up and go to the ladies' room. I'll keep Mike busy, and you can talk to Norman in there."

"It's weird knowing that I'm talking to you in the ladies' room at Bertanelli's," Norman said.

"I know. It feels strange to me, too." Hannah glanced around. The bathroom was neat and clean, but it certainly wasn't a place for lounging or socializing. There was only one place to sit, and Hannah took it. "What time is it there?"

"Almost two in the afternoon."

"Where are you?"

"At Mood Indigo."

Hannah was surprised. "It's open this early?"

"It's open a lot earlier than this. Alison lets them in every day at eleven in the morning. She said they do a lot of business with the lunch crowd."

"Who's Alison?"

"Alison's the...uh...headliner act at the club."

"Her name is on the marquee?"

"That's right." Norman stopped talking for a moment, and then he came back on the line. "Hold on a second, Hannah. They're about to start the next act, so it's going to get really noisy. I'll try to find a quieter spot."

Norman must not have put her on hold, because Hannah heard a blast of music, followed by raucous shouts from the audience. She couldn't quite make out the words, but it sounded like a boisterous crowd.

"This is fine, thanks," Norman said to someone there.

"Another drink?" a female voice asked.

"No, this orange juice should do it," Norman told her, and then Hannah heard a door shut and the music faded to a dull roar.

"Sorry about that, Hannah," Norman said, picking up where they'd left off. "There's a big lunch crowd today. The construction crew that's been working down the street got paid."

"So they went to a nightclub on their lunch hour?"

"That's right. Except it's not..." A blast of music drowned out the rest of Norman's reply, and Hannah began to frown.

"I can't hear you!" she said.

"I know. Hold on again, okay?"

There was a popping sound over the blaring music, and then Hannah heard Norman say, "Thanks, but I didn't order champagne."

A female voice replied, but Hannah couldn't hear her. She did hear Norman's laugh, however, and he sounded fascinated by whatever she'd said.

"It's nice of you to offer, but I'd better pa.s.s. I'm talking to my girlfriend."

There was another inaudible utterance by the female, and Norman laughed again. And then the door shut and the music was muted once again.

"What was all that about?" Hannah asked.

"You don't want to know. She came in to bring me champagne. It's what Gus told her to do whenever anyone came into his office and shut the door. It was some kind of signal, I guess."

"Do they know he's dead?"

"Not yet. And his name wasn't Gus here at the club."

"Then the detective Marge hired was right, and he did change his name."

"That's right. If he hadn't mentioned Mood Indigo, I never would have found a trace of him."

"What was his name there?" Hannah was curious.

"Grant Kennedy. Sounds impressive, huh?"

"Yes, it does. When are you going to tell his employees at the club that he's dead?"

"I'll tell Alison this afternoon when she takes me over to their apartment."

"Alison shared an apartment with Gus?"

"That's right. She says they've been together ever since she came to work here."

"And that was...?"

"Three years ago. She's very good at what she does...if you like that sort of thing, of course."

"You don't like blues singers?"

There was silence for a moment and then Norman spoke. "Alison doesn't sing," he said.

"What does she do?"

"Uh...she dances."