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.
“Come on in, Norman,” Hannah said. “I’ve got fresh coffee.”
“Great.” Norman hung his jacket on the hooks by the back door and took a stool at the stainless steel work island. “I’m glad you called me, Hannah. I was just about to pick up the phone and call you.”
“Oh?” Hannah delivered his coffee, and then she sat down on the stool across from Norman. He looked so serious, she felt a little weak in the knees.
“This is serious, Hannah,” he said.
I can see that, her mind said, but her mouth was so dry that all she could do was nod.
“I’m not Diana’s father.”
Uh-oh! her mind flashed a warning. Had Norman found out about the paternity tests they’d run? Was he about to tell her he’d never forgive her for interfering in his life?
“Did you hear me, Hannah?”
“Oh, yes,” Hannah said in a voice that trembled slightly. “How did you find out?”
“I had the lab run a paternity test, and I got the results in the mail yesterday. With my DNA, I couldn’t possibly be Diana’s father.”
“You ...” Hannah stopped and swallowed hard. She took a deep breath and started again. “You sent in a sample and they ran a paternity test?”
“Of course I did. You didn’t think I’d simply accept Bev’s word for it, did you?”
“I ... I didn’t know.”
“Well, you should have known. Give me a little credit, Hannah. I wasn’t born yesterday. I thought it was odd that she waited that long to tell me about Diana, and I decided I’d rather be safe than sorry. As it turned out, I would have been sorry. Very sorry.” Norman stopped and reached out for Hannah’s hand. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Yes, I’m okay.” Hannah took another deep breath. “Did you tell her yet?”
“I drove to Minneapolis and told her last night. Of course I had to find her first. She wasn’t at her mother’s house, and Diana wasn’t sick. She lied to me about that, too.”
“Did she tell you who Diana’s father really was?”
“No, and I didn’t ask. That doesn’t really matter.”
Hannah made a snap decision. There was no reason to give Norman the name of Diana’s father. “It doesn’t matter to you?”
“No. What matters is that Bev lied to me, and she tried to trick me into marrying her.”
“Then ... you’re not getting married tomorrow?” Hannah asked, just to make sure.
“That’s right. I’m not getting married tomorrow. I haven’t told anyone else, Hannah. I wanted to tell you first.” Norman reached out and captured her other hand. “I love you, Hannah. I always will. We were so good together before all this happened. Do you think that with a little time ... we can get back to being us again?”
Hannah wasn’t sure she could speak past the lump in her throat, but she knew she had to try. “We never stopped being us,” she told him. “Even when you were with her, I never stopped believing in us.”
They sat there, hands clasped, for a long moment, just breathing the same air and being together. And then Norman gave a deep sigh.
“I’d better get over to Granny’s Attic,” he said. “I have to ask Mother and Delores to activate the gossip hotline.”
“Why?”
“I want them to tell everyone in town that the wedding’s canceled. I don’t have the list of addresses Bev used when she sent out the invitations, and I know it’s impossible to contact everyone. So I’m going to go down to the community center tomorrow to tell anybody who shows up that there won’t be a wedding.”
“But can’t you just put a notice on the door?”
“No. I have to be there. It’s the right thing to do, Hannah. If people show up, they’re going to want to know what happened.”
“And you’re going to tell them?”
“Not all of it. They don’t need to know the details. I’ll just say that we decided to call off the wedding, and that Bev left Lake Eden and she won’t be back.”
Hannah wasn’t sure what to say. As far as she was concerned, Norman was the bravest man she knew. Most people who found themselves in a similar situation would put a sign on the door, and hide at home with the curtains drawn. “You’re not going down there alone, are you?” she asked.
“Yes. I cancelled the wedding, and it’s my responsibility.”
Hannah thought about that for a moment. Norman had a point, but greeting people at your own canceled wedding would be the height of humiliation. “You’re not going to go down there alone,” she said, making another snap decision. “I’m going with you.”
“But you don’t have to. Really, Hannah. I’d love it if you came with me, but I can handle it alone.”
“No, you can’t.”
“Why not?”
Hannah gave him a little smile. Things were getting back to normal again. “You don’t know your way around the community center kitchen. And somebody’s got to put on the coffee.”