the starters. And all the starters have substitutes. That’s ten. Then there’s a B Team and a C Team with five boys on each. We’ve got our work cut out for us, Andrea.”
“I guess. Did you get a list of names?”
“Gil said he’d get it from Charlotte and drop it off at The Cookie Jar in the morning.”
Andrea frowned as she considered how to deal with this new set of facts. “How are we going to find out which player it is? If we call them and ask, we’ll get twenty denials.”
“I know. Actually, I’m not even sure that this has anything to do with Boyd’s murder. It could be a coincidence.”
“It’s no coincidence. The father of the player murdered Boyd before his son could be kicked off the team.”
Hannah was surprised. Andrea sounded very sure of herself. “Do you really think that’s a strong enough motive for murder?”
“Absolutely. High-school basketball is a serious sport in Lake Eden.”
“But would a father go that far?”
“Of course he would. Remember that mother in Texas who killed her daughter’s rival for the cheerleading squad? That wasn’t even half as important as basketball.”
Hannah thought about it for a moment. “The player’s father could have followed Boyd home from the bake-off and tried to convince him not to suspend his son. That would explain the argument that Mr. Gessell heard.”
“And arguments can escalate into full-scale fights. We know that Boyd had a hair-trigger temper. What if the player’s father did, too?”
Hannah had to admit that the scenario made sense. “I guess it could have happened that way. The father could have picked up the hammer and struck out at Boyd in a rage. Maybe he didn’t actually intend to kill him, but he did. And then, when he realized that Boyd was dead, he hightailed it out of there.”
Andrea jumped up and down in excitement. “We did it Hannah! We know who Boyd’s killer is!”
“Not quite yet.” Hannah reached out to restrain her overexuberant sister. “We may know why, but we don’t know who. Get out there and look for Lucy. If you find her, hang on to her until after the show.”
“Okay but what if Lucy won’t tell us who’s in those pictures?”
Then we’re up the creek, and we’ve wasted a lot of time, Hannah thought. But she didn’t say it because that would be tempting fate. “Don’t worry about that now. Just concentrate on finding Lucy. I’ll get it out of her, one way or the other.”
* * *
Rudy, one of the cameramen, caught Hannah as she was about to take her place behind the judging table. “Hey, Hannah. That Hawaiian Flan you made was great.”
“How do you know?”
“Wingo got a phone call right after the broadcast and left his dish on the news desk. I snagged it before he could get back.”
“Good for you.” Hannah gave him a smile. She liked Rudy. He’d explained about the cameras and how she could tell when they were on. She motioned toward one of the huge cameras that were lined up on the set. “Why are these cameras different from the one you use?”
“They’re line-feed. See these cables?”
Hannah spotted the heavy black cables that snaked across the floor. “Where do they go?”
“To the mobile control booth in the production truck. That’s where Mason is during the show. He watches the feed from these cameras on monitors and calls for the camera angles through headsets. He’s the one who decides which fee to broadcast.”
“That sounds like a very difficult job.”
“It is. This is a live show, and he has to make fast decisions. When he calls a shot, it’s broadcast right away.”
Hannah was interested. What she knew about television production could be contained in a thimble with room to spare. “What does your camera do?”
“I shoot the montages we run during the judging. My camera’s called a roving cam, and it’s self-contained. It records on three-quarter-inch tape, and we edit it down later.”
“Edit it down?”
“I shot four hours of footage for tonight’s montage, and it’ll run less than three minutes.”
“That’s an awful lot of tape for a couple of minutes.”
“We always shoot more than we need. That way the editor can pick and choose. I shoot tape of the contestants arriving, the audience filing in, even the wrap parties out at the inn.”
That information gave Hannah an idea. If Rudy shot four hours of tape every day, he could have gotten a picture of the killer and his cuff links. She still intended to get the killer’s name from Lucy, but what if she’d skipped town a Andrea had suggested? They needed a contingency plan. “What happens to all the tape that isn’t used?”
“The outtakes?”
“If that’s what you call them. Do you throw them away?”
Rudy laughed. “At KCOW, we don’t’ throw anything away. We even recycle our paper clips.”
“Then you tape something else over them?”
“Yes, but not right away. We store them for a while at the station. Then they’re reviewed. If Mason’s sure we won’t need any of the footage, we erase them and use them again.”
“So all your outtakes are back at the station in storage?”
Rudy shook his head. “The tapes are still in the production truck. Why are you so interested?”
“I just find the whole process fascinating,” Hannah said with a smile. “Do you think I could watch them?”
“It’s a lot of tape, and most of it is pretty boring. Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” Hannah held her breath as she waited for Rudy to answer. This could be very important. Even if she found Lucy and managed to pry the killer’s name from her, seeing the man and his cuff links on tape was a way of proving that Lucy hadn’t lied to them about his identity.
“If you want to be bored, it’s fine with me. But I don’t have the final say. You’ll have to get permission from Mason.”
Hannah flashed him a smile. Rudy had no idea how helpful he’d been. “Thanks, Rudy. I’ll ask Mason right after tonight’s show.”
Preheat over to 350 degrees F., rack in the middle position.
1 cup white sugar
1/2 cup water
6 eggs
1 can sweetened, condensed milk (
1/4 cup white sugar
1 1/2 cups pineapple juice
1/8 teaspoon slat
1 small can crushed pineapple (
Sweetened whipped cream topping (
Find an 8-inch-by-8-inch square pan (
Combine one cup of white sugar with a half cup of water in a saucepan. Bring it to a boil, stirring at first, then swishing it around until the mixture turns golden brown. (
