Apple Turnover Murder (Hannah Swensen, #13)(52)

She’d just taken the last sheet of cookies from the oven when there was a knock on the back door. Hannah slid the cookies onto the baker’s rack, wiped her hands on a towel, and went to the back door to open it.

“Hannah.” It was Mike and he looked a bit contrite. “I know you’re working, but I really need to talk to you for a minute.”

Hannah smiled and ushered him to a seat at the workstation. “Coffee?” she asked.

“Only if you have time.”

“I’ve got plenty of time. Lisa’s out there performing a solo play called, Hannah Finds the Professor’s Body, Marge is dishing up cookies by the dozen, Jack is going around with the coffee carafe, and Patsy’s running the cash register.”

Mike laughed and shook his head, but he sobered when Hannah brought him a mug of coffee and two cookies. “What are these?” he asked, indicating the cookies. “They’ve got little holes all over them.”

“They’re Sesame Seed Tea Cookies. I got the recipe from Sally when she packed those lunches for the film crew.”

Mike took a bite. “They’re good, and they’re different. I like that. And they go really well with coffee.”

Hannah took a stool across from Mike and waited until he’d finished one cookie. Then she asked, “What can I do for you?”

“I just finished interviewing the victim’s ex-wife. Did you know her?”

“I met her at an English department party, and I saw her around campus, but I really didn’t know her. We said hello when we saw each other and that was about it.”

“Would you say they had a good marriage?”

“I have absolutely no idea.” Hannah looked up at Mike and sighed. “I told you all about it, how he said we’d always be together, and all the time he was engaged to her. It was painful for me when I saw them together. I avoided them the best I could, but the campus still wasn’t big enough for the three of us.”

“Do you think he told her about you?”

“I’m almost sure he didn’t. I’m basing that assumption on the fact that he didn’t tell me about her. She certainly didn’t act as if she knew. Stacey was always quite friendly when we met.”

“Stacey?”

“Yes. Her name was Stacey.”

“You’re absolutely sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. As far as I was concerned, she was the other woman!”

“When did they get married?”

“Let me see …” Hannah thought back to that unhappy time in her life. “It was a little over four years ago, I think.”

“Uh-oh,” Mike said, rubbing his eyes. “The woman I interviewed wasn’t Stacey. Her name was Marilyn Ramsey.”

“But that’s impossible unless … Marilyn must be another ex-wife.”

“You’re probably right.” Mike flipped through his notebook. “I didn’t ask her when they were married. Turns out I should have. I’ll do a search for Stacey Ramsey and interview her, too. Two ex-wives in four years … the professor sure got around, didn’t he?”

“I guess he did,” Hannah admitted.

“You knew that about him?”

Hannah shook her head. “I trusted him completely.”

“You did?”

“Yes. Isn’t that what people in love are supposed to do?”

Mike thought that over for a long moment and then he got up, walked around the workstation, and leaned over to kiss her on the cheek.

“Yes. And that’s probably why I love you so much,” he said.

***

There was a buzzing in her ears like a thousand mosquitoes had descended on her arm. Hannah adjusted her cheek on the hard surface and decided that she was too tired to wave them away. After all, mosquitoes had to eat, too.

The buzzing continued, but her arm felt fine. It wasn’t itching, or swelling, or feeling any other way than normal. Perhaps the mosquitoes didn’t like her blood. That was the reason Norman always gave for the fact that mosquitoes didn’t seem to bite him.

There was a breeze as a door opened. Hannah felt it, but she didn’t open her eyes. And then she felt eyes staring at her. A giant mosquito who’d come to feast on her and leave her drained dry like an empty husk? The chorus of mosquitoes was still buzzing. Were they, perhaps, paying homage to their leader?

“Hannah? You’re going to get a stiff neck sleeping like that,” a voice said very close to her ear. “And your stove timer’s ringing. Do you want me to take something out of the oven for you?”

Marge. It was Marge’s voice. The giant mosquito sounded exactly like Marge. Hannah lifted her head from the stainless steel work surface and blinked groggily. It was Marge.

“Is there something in the oven?” Marge asked.

“Cookies,” Hannah just barely managed to say.

“Just sit there. I’ll get them. And then I’ll pour you a cup of coffee so you can wake up. Norman’s out front and he wants to see you.”

“Norman,” Hannah mumbled. The stainless steel surface of the workstation was beckoning. Who would dream that stainless steel could be so comfortable. But Norman was here and she had to wake up.

“Drink this,” Marge said, much too soon to suit Han- nah, as she plunked a mug of coffee down next to Hannah’s head. “Wake up and smell the caffeine.”