Fudge Cupcake Murder

like to recap it in something that looked like real tooth enamel. 'A tin of her cupcakes probably weighed as much as an air filter.'

    Hannah had the insane urge to laugh, but she asked another question instead. 'What else do you remember about them?'

    'The frosting. Best fudge frosting I ever ate. My mother was some cook!'

    'I'll bet she was,' Hannah said, wondering if she'd ever have a child who'd say that about her. 'Was there anything really unusual about the cupcakes? Something you haven't mentioned?'

    Ted thought for a moment and then he nodded. 'Yeah. The paper cups were gold foil and she had them sent from a place in Chicago.'

    Before Hannah could even think about asking another question, the doors to the auditorium opened and people began filing inside. The Koesters got in line with the other mourners, but Andrea grabbed Hannah's hand and tugged her around to the side door so that they could avoid the crowd.

    Someone, undoubtedly Digger Gibson, Lake Eden's funeral director, had arranged for soft organ music to play over the auditorium speaker system. Hannah recognized 'Largo.' Digger had played the same piece at her father's funeral and it brought back depressing memories. 'I hate funerals,' she sighed.

    'Me, too,' Andrea echoed the sentiment and motioned Hannah into the back row of seats on the left side of the auditorium. 'You take the second seat and I'll take the aisle. That way we'll have this row to ourselves.'

    Hannah moved sideways to take the second seat. 'Only until someone asks us to stand up so they can squeeze past us.'

    'That won't happen.' Andrea sat down in the aisle seat and pointed to the seatback, which was only an inch shy of touching her stomach. 'Since I'm so big, no one can squeeze past me. And there's no way they'll have the nerve to ask me to get up and move out into the aisle.'

    Hannah bit back a grin as she put her purse down on the empty seat next to her. It seemed that pregnancy had some perks. She was about to say that when Sean and Don, the twins who ran the gas station and convenience store out on the highway, came in the side door and took the seats directly in front of them.

    'Hi, Andrea. Hannah,' either Sean or Don greeted them. Hannah couldn't tell them apart since they were wearing suits instead of their Quick Stop shirts with the names embroidered over the pockets.

    'Hi, Sean,' Hannah said, deciding that guessing was worth it since she had a fifty percent change of getting it right.

    'I'm Don. He's Sean.'

    'You win some and you lose some,' Hannah muttered under her breath. 'Sorry, guys. You know I can't tell you apart. Who's minding the store?'

    'We're closed,' the other twin said, the one whose name, Hannah now knew, was Sean. 'We figured we should come to the service to prove we weren't mad at Sheriff Grant.'

    'Mad?' Hannah's ears perked up.

    Don nodded. 'He told us we couldn't sell those little cordial chocolates anymore. Sean explained that we never sold them to kids, but Sheriff Grant said it didn't matter, that if they had one drop of alcohol in them, we needed a liquor license.

    'And they were our best selling candy,' Sean complained.

    'I don't think we would have minded so much,' Don went on, 'but he walked over to the shelf, loaded them all up in a box, and confiscated them.'

    'And we could have returned them for credit,” Sean added.

    'Is that legal?' Hannah asked, glancing over at Andrea.

    'I don't know.' Andrea gave a little shrug and then her eyes narrowed. 'I bet you guys were really mad.'

    'We were steaming,' Don admitted, evidently not realized he'd just given them a motive for murder.

    'Yes, we were.' Sean looked a little sheepish. 'I wanted to go out to the station and demand them back, but Don stopped me.'

    'I told him it wasn't smart to make a county sheriff mad. And then, when we found out Sheriff Grant had been murdered, I was really glad I'd stopped Sean from going out there.'

    'I was glad too,' Sean added, standing up to let some people into their aisle.

    While the twins were busy making small talk with their new seatmates, Andrea nudged Hannah. 'Did you get that?'

    'I did and it's a motive… sort of. I wonder which twin was working on Monday night? And I wonder what the other twin was doing?'

    'I'll ask around,' Andrea promised. 'I know a couple people who can tell them apart.'

    'Good. So what did you say to Mother to make her forget about criticizing me?'

    'Oh, that.' Andrea gave a nonchalant shrug. 'I just told her that if the baby was a girl we were going to use her name.'

    Hannah's eyes widened. 'But I thought you told Bill's mother that if you had a girl, you'd use her name.'

    'I did.'

    'But…' Hannah stopped speaking and sighed. 'Okay. I know you think it's a boy, but what happens if it's a girl? You can't use both names. Mother and Regina would be all upset over which one you put first.'

    Andrea shook her head. 'Relax, Hannah. I know it's a boy. I had the test. Just don't tell anyone, okay? Bill's old-fashioned and he wants to be surprised.'

    The service was long and Hannah shifted uncomfortably in her seat. It seemed everyone who had known Sheriff Grant wanted to give some sort of eulogy. Hannah felt sorry for Nettie Grant, who had to sit through it all and be gracious. Why did people feel they had to share so much? Hannah could care less that Sheriff Grant had once helped Lydia Gradin get her car out of the ditch in the middle of a snowstorm.

    'I'm glad the casket's closed,' Andrea leaned over to whisper to Hannah. 'Otherwise it looks like dead people are just sleeping and they might get up any minute.'

    Hannah didn't want to mention why an open casket would have been impossible. She'd seen Sheriff Grant right after his demise and there was no way that Digger could work a miracle of that magnitude with putty and makeup.

    It seemed as if the line of people who were waiting to sing Sheriff Grant's praises in life would never end. Hannah glanced at her watch and saw that over an hour and a half had passed. She was almost ready to nudge Andrea and ask her to pretend that she'd gone into labor so that they could leave, when Digger went to the podium.

    'We all loved Sheriff Grant and I know some of you have been waiting for quite a while to give your remembrances of him, but out of courtesy to his widow, I'll ask you to be seated so that we can conclude the service.'

    Hannah breathed a big sigh of relief when a final tribute had been uttered and the service ended. After a reminder that there would be a brief ceremony at graveside, Hannah and Andrea slipped out of the row and headed for the parking lot.

    'Are you okay?' Hannah asked, unlocking the passenger door so that Andrea could get into the cookie truck.

    'I'm fine. I just don't want to go to graveside, that's all. That always depresses me and I just read an article that said a mother's emotions can affect her unborn baby.'

    'Okay,' Hannah put her truck in gear. 'I'll have to hurry and take you home then. I need to go out to the cemetery.'

    'But why?'

    'I need to check the crowd. The killer might be there.'

    'You think?' Andrea looked surprised.

    'It's Mother's idea. She saw it in a movie.'

    Andrea shrugged. 'It's worth a try. Go ahead, Hannah. I'll wait in your truck and watch for anyone who drives in and lurks around.'

    'Thanks, Andrea.' Hannah put the truck in gear and drove out of the parking lot. 'I can always use another