Cinnamon Roll Murder

forward with such force, it knocked Ben right off his feet, and he landed hard on the tile floor. At the same time, the syringe went flying, Hannah ducked, and it landed next to Ben’s unconscious body.

For a moment, Hannah was too shocked to react, but she quickly recovered. “Help me get him on the gurney, Freddy. We have to strap him down before he wakes up.”

“I can do it,” Freddy said, picking Ben up like a sack of potatoes and dumping him on the gurney. “Doctor Marlene taught me how. She said I was the best gurney strapper she’d ever seen.”

Hannah watched, fascinated, as Freddy secured a maze of straps around Ben’s arms and legs. “You have to do this so they won’t hurt themselves,” he explained.

“Exactly right,” Hannah told him, and then she gave him a little hug. “And now Doctor Ben can’t hurt me either. Marlene is right. You’re the best gurney strapper I’ve ever seen.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

It was Friday morning and it seemed that spring was finally here. It was a balmy forty- nine degrees outside, and Hannah felt like opening the back door to let in the air, but she had six pans of Angel Kisses cooling on the baker’s rack, and it was important to keep meringue cookies out of drafts until they were completely cool.

A lot had happened since her chase down the hospital corridors. Ben Matson was in jail awaiting trial, but his defense lawyer was hopeful. Just as Hannah had thought, his lawyer would claim temporary insanity. The police lab had tested the syringe he’d attempted to use on Hannah, and they’d discovered that it contained a powerful sedative, enough to knock her out for three or four hours, but not enough to kill her. All Ben had intended to do was to give himself time to get away.

The button Hannah had pressed on the side of the autopsy table had indeed activated the microphone and the video camera. Ben’s confession that he’d killed the man they now knew was Chaz Peyton had recorded in sound and full color. The only unanswered question was whether the dentist that Gene and Chaz had both dated was Doctor Bev Thorndike.

“Your mother and Doc are coming over,” Lisa said, coming through the swinging door into the kitchen. “They got the DNA test results.”

“So soon?”

“Your mother said Doc’s friend at the lab walked it through personally. She also said that paternity tests don’t take as long as some other DNA tests.”

“Okay.”

“You’ll tell me, won’t you?”

Lisa sounded a bit worried, so Hannah smiled to reassure her. “Of course I will!”

“Good. I really hope Norman’s in the clear.”

So do I, Hannah thought, but she didn’t say it. Lisa already knew how she felt.

Hannah had just poured coffee and set out a plate of her newest creation, Chocolate Caramel Pecan Bars, when there was a knock on the back door. Delores and Doc had arrived.

“Coffee?” Hannah asked, ushering them in.

“Always,” Delores responded, smiling at Hannah.

Doc nodded. “Thanks, Hannah. I could use a cup.”

“Good, because I already poured it.” Hannah gestured toward the coffee mugs and cookies on the stainless steel work island. “Pull up a stool. And please ... give me some good news.”

“Relax, dear,” Delores told her, but there was no way Hannah could relax until they told her everything.

“It’s a little complicated,” Doc told her, “but Rye expained it to me.”

“Rye is your friend at the lab?”

“Yes. Tom Ryan. He was my roommate in med school.”

“Then he’s a doctor?”

“Yes, but he doesn’t have a practice. He discovered he really didn’t like dealing with patients that much, so he went into research. Rye had his technicians run a basic paternity test with the samples we provided. There are more complicated tests, but I told him we needed a quick answer.”

“Doc told him it was a matter of wife and death,” Delores said, smiling at Doc.

“I did say that. Rye always liked a good joke.”

“That’s clever,” Hannah said, even though she wished that Doc would get to the point.

“When we took in the samples, Rye was very pleased. He said he had plenty to work with.”

“Andrea gets the credit for that,” Hannah said, remembering all the samples that they’d turned over to Doc.

“Well, she did a good job. They used the mother’s sample, the child’s sample, and the potential father’s sample.”

Delores nodded. “Rye said that when they do paternity tests, they divide the potential fathers’ samples into two categories, inclusions and exclusions.”

“That’s right,” Doc took over. “The first test they ran doesn’t legally prove that a candidate is the father. But it can prove that a candidate is not the father.”

Hannah crossed the fingers on both hands for luck. “How did Norman’s sample turn out?”

“Norman couldn’t possibly be the father.”

“Norman’s an exclusion?” Hannah asked. She needed to make dead certain she’d understood.

“That’s right,” Doc confirmed it. “Norman is not Diana’s father.”

A giant weight slipped off Hannah’s shoulders and fluttered away on a breeze of relief. Doctor Bev had been lying about everything, including the identity of Diana’s father!

“Tell her about the mistake,” Delores said, nudging Doc.

“Remember that DNA sample I took from the man we thought was Buddy Neiman?” Doc waited until Hannah had nodded, and then he continued. “The lab tech thought he was supposed to run the first paternity test on Buddy’s sample, too. So he did, and it turned out that Buddy was an inclusion .”

“Let me tell her!” Delores said, practically jumping up and down on her stool.

“Go ahead, Lori,” Doc said indulgently.

“Oh, Hannah! It’s just like Doc said! The lab tech ran the second paternity test on Buddy’s sample. And it’s ninety-nine point nine percent positive that he was Diana’s father!”

Hannah paced the floor of the kitchen. She started at the back door, made a path from the industrial oven to the crate where Sammy lay on his velvet dog bed. He was chewing on the ear of a teddy bear squeaky toy and Hannah paused to squeak it for him. Then she executed a smart, military-style turn on her heel, and made the return trip to the back door again. She was sure she’d logged at least a mile since she’d called Norman and asked him if he’d please meet her in the kitchen at The Cookie Jar.

As she turned and headed toward Sammy’s crate again, she glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes had passed, and Norman should be there any second. She wished she knew exactly what to say to him, but she didn’t. And time was running out.

They’d left it all up to her. Carrie, Earl, Andrea, Michelle, Delores, Doc, Lisa, Herb, and even Mike had decided not to say a word about the DNA samples they’d collected for the tests the lab had run. They’d all agreed that Hannah should be the one to tell Norman whatever she wanted him to know. The ball was in her court, the bow was drawn back with the arrow in place, and the die was cast. Everything was up to Hannah, and she still wasn’t sure how much or how little she should tell Norman.

Sammy gave a little woof and Hannah reached down to pet him. The door to the crate was open, but he seemed perfectly content to stay inside. Perhaps he thought that she might trip over him in her pacing.

There was a knock on the back door, and Hannah rushed to open it. Norman was standing there and he looked very serious.