using steroids or any other kind of drugs.”
Andreas shrugged. “That’s about what I’d expect him to say. He wouldn’t be very popular if he ratted on his teammates. Do you think he knew and just didn’t want to tell you?”
“Exactly. At least he seemed to realize how serious it was. He said he’d learned about steroids at basketball camp, and I have the feeling he’ll talk to his teammate and try to get some help for him. That’s good, but it doesn’t help us.”
“How about Mike? Do you think he’s learned anything from the roster?”
Now it was Hannah’s turn to shrug. “I don’t know. I haven’t talked to him since we split up after breakfast at the Corner Tavern.”
“Breakfast?” Andrea gave Hannah a sharp look. “You spent all night with Mike?”
Hannah knew exactly what her sister was asking, and she laughed. “Most of it, but it’s not what you’re thinking. We finished the tapes, we had steak and eggs, and then we went home… separately.”
“Oh.” Andrea looked a little disappointed. “What are you going to do next?”
“I’m going to run home, feed Moishe, and grab my clothes for tonight. If I’m lucky, I might even get in an hour’s nap.”
“But how about the killer?”
“He’ll wait. I’m fresh out of ideas, and I can’t think when I’m this tired. I’ve got to go recharge my batteries.”
“Okay. I’ll run over to Lucy’s neighborhood and pass out some fliers. I got some good information the last time I did it.”
“If anyone can do it, you can.” Hannah stood up and walked over to retrieve her parka. She was so tired, it took her a couple of attempts to get her left arm into the sleeve hole. “Call me at home if you learn anything important.”
“I thought you were going to take a nap.”
“I am.” Hannah yawned widely. “But I’m willing to wake up for that.”
* * *
When Hannah woke up at three-fifteen, she felt ninety percent better. She padded into the kitchen, put on the coffee, and sat down at the table to wait for it to drip down into the carafe. Moishe went straight to his food bowl and seemed surprised to see that it was still full. He’d chosen to take a nap with her, rather than scarf down his kitty crunchies.
“It’s not morning, Moishe,” Hannah told him. “It’s afternoon.”
Moishe cocked his head to stare at her. He looked puzzled, and Hannah laughed. “Never mind. Time is a difficult concept. I’m not sure I understand it either.”
The coffee was ready and Hannah got up to pour herself a cup. She inhaled the steam and felt the remaining ten percent better, bringing her up to a hundred percent. There was nothing like a cup of coffee when you woke up in the morning, even if the morning was actually afternoon.
By the time she’d finished her third cup, Hannah was ready to face the remainder of the day. There wasn’t much left. It was overcasts, and the sky was already darkening outside her kitchen window.
“I’ve got to go, Moishe,” Hannah said, and as if on cue, the phone rang. Delores? Andrea? Mike? Hannah wanted to let the answering machine get it, but she was too curious to wait through her outgoing message. She shoved back her chair, lifted the receiver, and answered.
“Hannah?” It was Mason Kimball’s voice. “We’ve got a problem, and I need you on the set early.”
“Okay. What’s the problem?”
“We’re changing the format for the show tonight, and I need to go over some things with you.”
“When do you want me there?”
“Ten minutes ago. This could take a while. You’d better bring your outfit for tonight and you can change in Dee-Dee’s mobile dressing room. How soon can you get here?”
Hannah glanced at the clock. It was three-thirty. “I’m leaving right now. I have to stop at the shop to pick up my box of ingredients for tonight, then I’ll drive right over. I should be there by four-fifteen.”
“Good. Come straight to the set. No one’s there right now, and it’s my only chance to check out camera angles with you.”
Hannah said good-bye and made quick work of gathering up her things and leaving the condo complex.
Traffic was light, and Hannah made good time. She breezed in the back door of The Cookie Jar at three- forty-five and pushed through the swinging door to tell Lisa that she was back.
“Hi, Lisa.” Hannah caught her new partner in the act of draping the mirror behind the counter with a garland made of pine branches. “That looks nice.”
“Thanks, Hannah. Dad made it in one of his craft classes at the Senior Center. Are you here to stay?”
Hannah shook her head. “No, I’m just passing through. Mason Kimball called, and he wants me on the set early. I just stopped by to pick up the box of ingredients for tonight.”
“It’s on the counter next to the sink. Just take the one box. I’ll bring the chilled dough, and Dad can carry in the one with the pans and the bowls.”
“Your dad’s coming to see you again?”
“Mr. Drevlow can’t make it, but Mrs. Beeseman offered to sit with him while I’m up there helping you on the set.”
“Really?” Hannah tried not to sound as surprised as she felt. Marge Beeseman usually sat with her own group of friends.
“Herb asked her. Dad told him how much he wanted to go, and Herb said he’d arrange it.”
Hannah started to smile. Things must be getting serious between Herb and Lisa if he’d asked his mother to do a favor for her.
“After the show, we’re all going out to the inn for the party. Dad says he’s going to ask Mrs. Beeseman to dance. He’s still a real good dancer. And she promised Herb that if Dad asked her, she would.”
Hannah’s smile grew wider as she pictured the unlikely double date. “I’ve got to run, Lisa. I’ll see you later, at the school. If Mike calls before you leave, tell him I don’t know any more than I did last night.”
“I will.” Lisa stepped back and eyed the pine garland critically. “I think it needs some red-velvet bows.”
“You’re my decorating expert. If you want to buy bows, take some money out of the register. Get a receipt and leave it in the tax box under the counter.”
“Red-velvet bows are tax deductible?”
“Stan Kramer does our taxes. And with Stan, everything’s a tax deduction.”
* * *
Hannah glanced at her watch as she pulled into the school parking lot. She was ten minutes early, and that was a miracle. It would give her time to return the pen before she met Mason on the set.
As she drove around the building and prepared to pull up next to the production truck, she saw P.K. standing on the metal steps, smoking. Hannah rolled down her window and called out to him. “I’ve got the pen you let me use last might. Wait a second, and I’ll give it to you.”
P.K. walked over to her truck as she parked. Hannah left the garment bag hanging from the hook in the back. She could get it later, after she finished talking to Mason on the set. P.K. took her box of ingredients, and they walked toward the production truck together.
“I can let you in, but I’ve got to take off,” P.K. informed her, setting the box on the top step and unlocking the door. “I have to run out to the station to pick up some things. Do you want me to put this box on the set for you?”
“I can take it. I have to go there anyway. Do you want me to put the pen in Mason’s office?”
“Yeah. There’s a penholder on his desk. Just stick it in there and make sure you lock up when you leave.”
“I will,” Hannah promised, stepping aside so that P.K. could descend the narrow steps. She gave a little wave as he headed off to his car, then she opened the door and stepped inside the production truck.
Mason’s office was at the far end of the hall, in the very back of the truck. Hannah passed the room where she’d watched Rudy’s outtakes and stopped with her hand on the knob of Mason’s closed door. She knew he wasn’t here, but she knocked anyway, just in case someone else was using his office and Rudy hadn’t known about it. When there was no answer, she opened the door and stepped in.
