"Thank you, Mother."

"A man would be lucky to have you for a wife. You're such a good cook."

"It's my business, Mother."

"You keep a nice home, too."

"Thank you, Mother," Hannah said again. Then she took a deep breath because she knew that two compliments in a row from her mother were usually followed by a lecture about how she should settle down, get married, and start a family.

"I know you think there's plenty of time for a husband and family, but your..."

The start of her mother's biological-clock-is-ticking lecture was interrupted by a knock at the door. Hannah sent up a quick prayer of thanks for Norman's timely arrival and held up her hand.

"Hold that thought, Mother. I've got to get the door."

With that said and her mother momentarily silenced, Hannah hurried over, bypa.s.sed the nearly useless peephole, and called out, "Who's there?"

"Mouse delivery for Moishe," Norman announced, and Hannah opened the door. "I can just drop them off if you're tired."

"Come in and join the party," Hannah said, opening the door all the way so he could see the a.s.sembled crew of Swensens.

"Good thing you got your second wind," he said just loudly enough for Hannah to hear him. And then he turned to them. "You came to help Hannah tie squeaky mice to Moishe's Kitty Kondo?"

"Not exactly," Mich.e.l.le said, laughing. "We were just eating and discussing murder."

"Sounds like a good combination to me. Eating what?"

"Scandinavian Almond Cake," Hannah told him. "Find a seat, and I'll get you a piece with your coffee."

"Moishe's purring, Hannah," Norman remarked, after Delores, Andrea, and Mich.e.l.le had left. "I can hear him all the way over here."

"That's because Mother's gone. He probably thought I was punishing him when I let her in the door."

"Or he's just glad everything's back to normal and you've forgiven him for past transgressions. You have forgiven him, haven't you?"

"Long before you got here. And long before Mother and the girls got here, too. Thanks to you, that's one problem solved. Now all I have to do is figure out who killed Gus."

"If you're not too tired, tell me what you've got so far." Norman took a sip of the coffee Hannah had just refilled.

"I've got lots of motives, but not many suspects. Gus wasn't a very nice person, and there's a long list of people who had a reason to dislike him, even hate him."

"And they are..."

Hannah grabbed her shorthand notebook and opened it to the suspect page. "I'll start at the beginning. There are a lot of girls he dated in high school and then dumped for someone else. Mother and Marge made a list. Unfortunately, every single one of them has an alibi."

"Okay. Who else?"

"Bert Kuehn. There's speculation that Gus was driving drunk and he got into the car accident that killed Bert's sister, Mary Jo. The official police report states that Mary Jo was driving, but Gus's high school baseball coach was the first on the scene, and he could have helped Gus put Mary Jo in the driver's seat."

"Did you talk to the coach?"

"No. He left Jordan High and went to coach college baseball at the University of Michigan. I haven't had time to track him down yet."

"I'll help you do that before I leave. Anyone else?"

"There's the possibility of a robbery gone bad. Gus was flashing around money and telling everyone that he was rich."

"But didn't you say that the money in his wallet was still there?"

"Yes. Mike thinks the robber might have panicked when he realized he'd killed Gus, and he fled without anything."

"But you don't agree?"

"Not really. He could have grabbed the Rolex. He wouldn't have had any way of knowing that it was a fake."

"You're sure the Rolex was a fake?"

"Positive. Mich.e.l.le checked with Lonnie before you got here tonight, and he said he talked to the jeweler. It was definitely a fake, and the ring Gus was wearing was paste. Mike told me that it wasn't unusual for rich people to wear fake watches and jewelry and keep their expensive things in a safe at home. That's what he thinks Gus did."

"But you don't agree?"

"No, but I have more information now. Ava told me that Gus charged gas on a gas card that had been canceled by the company for nonpayment. Mother's going to check with Sally tomorrow to see if the credit card he used to pay for the brunch went through okay."

"And Mike doesn't know about the canceled gas card yet?"

"No."

"Are you going to tell him?"

"I don't know yet. I'm afraid that if he thinks there aren't any valuables in Gus's apartment in Atlantic City, he might delay sending someone there to check it out. It wasn't high on his list of priorities, anyway. It's really doubtful that someone from New Jersey followed Gus here and killed him."

"That's probably right," Norman said, but he didn't look completely convinced. "But a hired killer could have hidden himself in the crowd of people here for the reunion, bided his time, and killed Gus when n.o.body else was around."

"Impossible."

"Why? There's got to be at least a hundred and fifty people at the lake."

"And they all get together and talk," Hannah explained. "Somebody who's not a relative would be found out in a hurry. I walked through that crowd enough to know everybody asks everybody else about how they're related, and their background, and the other relatives they know."

Norman thought about that for a moment. "You've got a point. It would be a lot harder than trying to crash a convention or another event like that."

"Back to the suspects," Hannah said, flipping the page. "There's Jack, of course. You already know about that. And then there's the gambling Gus used to do. It could be someone who thought Gus cheated him, someone who carried a grudge all these years. Or it could be someone he borrowed money from and never paid back. Mother told me he was terrible about that. He still owed her twenty dollars from high school when he left Lake Eden for good."

"He sounds like someone I'm glad I met only once," Norman said, shaking his head.

"Well put!" Hannah complimented him. "But that doesn't mean he deserved to die."

"True. Anybody else on your suspect list?"

"Ava."

Norman looked shocked. "Ava Schultz from the store?"

"That's right."

"Because of the canceled gas card?"

"No, Ava didn't know she'd been cheated until today, when she called in the charges. She doesn't have the kind of automatic pumps that accept or reject gas cards. She just writes the number on a form, has the person sign it, and calls them in."

"Okay, but why would Ava want to kill him if she didn't know about the canceled card?"

"Because he didn't stay with her."

"Ava asked him to spend the night?" Norman asked, looking surprised.

"I don't know for sure. What I do know is that she was very quick to tell me that when Gus came back to the store with her after the dance was over, it wasn't what I was thinking. She a.s.sured me that the only thing he wanted was to get some groceries."

"Maybe that's all it was."

"Maybe, but I added her to the suspect list anyway. A woman scorned is a prime suspect."

"So Ava's still a suspect?"

"No, I cleared her when Andrea brought me the crime scene photos. Gus is a couple of inches over six feet tall, and Ava's more than a foot shorter. She's also much lighter. I don't think she can weigh more than ninety pounds dripping wet."

"That's about what I'd guess," Norman said.

"So there's no way Ava could stab him in the chest with enough force to kill him...unless she stool on a step stool, of course."

"And there was no step stool?" Norman asked.

"None in the whole pavilion. I know because Patsy was looking for one so she could replace the lightbulb over the back door."

"How about if she knocked him down on his back and then stabbed him?"

"How?" Hannah asked him. "He outweighed her by at least fifty pounds."

"Right. Well...you were probably right to take her off the list. She's a pretty unlikely candidate. Anybody else on there?

"Just one. And I'm beginning to think this last one is the one who did it."

"Who's that?"

"The unidentified suspect who killed Gus for some unknown reason. I don't know about you, Norman, but this case has really got me stymied."

"You'll solve it. You always do. Something will happen to put a few of the pieces in place and then the rest will follow."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"You're welcome. Maybe that baseball coach is a piece of the puzzle. Fire up your computer, and let's see if we can find out more about him."

Once the computer was online and Norman was sitting in what Hannah thought of as the driver's seat, he turned to her. "What's the name?"

"Toby Hutchins."

"Is that Toby as in Tobias?"

"I don't know, and Mother didn't either. I asked. Before I wrote it down."

"Okay, let's go with Toby. I'm going to load the University of Michigan Web site and see what's there."

Hannah watched while the Web site loaded. "There's a place to click for athletics," she said, pointing at the screen.

"Right. We'll try that first." Norman waited, and when the athletics page loaded, he clicked on the link for baseball. Once that page came up, there was another link for history, and then one for coaches.

"We might have something here," Norman said, letting the page for baseball coaches load. But when it came up on the screen, he gave a little groan.

"What is it?" Hannah asked.

"It only gives head coaches and the years they headed up Wolverine Baseball. Didn't you say Toby Hutchins was an a.s.sistant coach?"

"That's what Mother said."

"This is a dead end, then." Norman went back to the original screen. "At least we know he lived in Ann Arbor at one time. Maybe there's something about him in the local papers." A few moments later, he asked, "Do you want to try the Ann Arbor News? Or the University paper, Michigan Daily?"

"Let's try the Michigan Daily. Mother was pretty sure he coached there."

Norman pulled up the Web site and did a search for Gus's high school baseball coach. There were several mentions in sports coverage, but then Norman's search took them to another page.

"Uh-oh," Hannah breathed as she saw the heading on the page. Toby Hutchins was dead and had been for three years now. He'd been killed in a boating accident. According to the obituary, there were no survivors and no one to contact. "Another dead end," she sighed. "Literally."

"Let's try the Atlantic City yellow pages," Norman suggested.

"For Toby Hutchins?"

"No, for Gus's nightclub. I want to find out if Mood Indigo actually exists."

It didn't take long to pull up the Yellow Pages and find the address for Mood Indigo. Norman printed it out, along with the phone number, and glanced at his watch. "Too late to call," he said. "They're two hours ahead, and they're probably closed by now."

"What are you doing now?" Hannah asked as Norman typed something in and started loading another Web page.

"Making reservations. Maybe someone at Mood Indigo knows why Gus came back to Lake Eden."

"You're going to fly to Atlantic City?" Hannah was dumbfounded.

"Why not? Doc's filling in for me tomorrow, anyway. I'll drive to the airport, catch the red-eye, sleep on the plane, and get there before noon."

"But don't you have to go back home to pack a suitcase?"