Carrot Cake Murder (Hannah Swensen, #10)(70)

Hannah got her purse and rummaged around until she found her cell phone in the bottom. “Here it is,” she announced, handing it to him.

“The battery’s low,” Norman said, turning it on and pressing some buttons that emitted squeaky sounds.

“Moishe likes those sounds,” Hannah said, noticing that her cat had perked up his ears. “It probably sounds like a mouse symphony to him.”

Norman laughed as he shut the phone and handed it to her. “Put it on the charger tonight, and don’t forget to take it with you tomorrow. I’ll call you when I get to Atlantic City, but you have to remember to turn your cell phone on so it’ll ring.”

“I will. I’ll charge it up the second you leave, and I’ll take it with me when I go to work tomorrow. And I’ll turn it on and leave it on in my purse.”

“Good. Don’t forget. And be careful, Hannah.”

“I will be.”

“Do you promise?”

Hannah smiled. Norman really did care about her. “I promise,” she gave her word.

“If you figure out who killed Gus before I get back, don’t take any chances. And whatever you do, don’t go after his killer alone. Call Mike and make sure he’s got your back.”

“Okay.”

“Do you promise, Hannah?”

It was a much harder promise, but Hannah could see how much it meant to him. “I promise, Norman,” she said.





Chapter Twenty-Three


The coffee was on, Moishe’s food and water bowls were filled, and she’d checked to make sure the little locks that Bill had installed on every window were engaged. All she had to do was wash her face, brush her teeth, put on the oversized T-shirt she used for a nightgown in the summer, and crawl under the covers.

“Come on, Moishe,” Hannah said, picking him up from his perch on the penthouse floor of his Kitty Kondo. “It’s getting late, and I really need to…”

She was interrupted by a knock on the door, three sharp raps that she thought she recognized. A second later, there was a second series of similar raps.

“…answer the door,” Hannah finished her sentence, and put Moishe back on the penthouse floor. “Who’s there?” she called out, even though she thought she knew.

“It’s Mike. I need to talk to you. You’re still up, aren’t you?”

No, I’m sound asleep! Hannah felt like saying, but of course she didn’t. What she said was, “I’m up. Hold on a second, and I’ll get the door.”

“Thanks, Hannah.” Mike stepped into her living room. “I figured you were still up. I saw Norman driving out.”

“Did you talk to him?” Hannah asked, hoping that he’d say no. Norman was a law-abiding citizen. If Mike had asked him where he was going, Norman would have told him.

“I just waved. I was in a hurry to get over here.”

“Is there a break in the case?” Hannah asked, sending up silent thanks to her lucky stars that Mike had been in a hurry.

“Nothing new.” Mike did a double take as he saw what was on the wall by her desk. “What’s that?”

“Moishe’s new Kitty Kondo activity center. Norman installed it yesterday.” Hannah stopped and thought fast. She didn’t want to make Mike feel bad for not thinking of getting one for Moishe. “Thanks to the Animal Channel number you gave me, and his new activity center, Moishe’s not destroying things anymore.”

“Great! I’ve got something for him in the cruiser. I’ll go down and haul it up here before I leave. I just stopped by to ask you if you learned anything I should know about.”

“Actually…yes,” Hannah said, leading him over to the couch. And then, because she was a good hostess, she asked, “Coffee?”

“Thanks, but I’m all coffeed out. I think it’s because I’ve been drinking the swill at the station. But I wouldn’t mind something sweet if you’ve got it.”

“I’ve got it. I baked almond cake tonight. How about a slice with a glass of milk?”

“Sounds great!”

“Make yourself comfortable and I’ll get it.” Hannah made a quick trip to the kitchen. When she came back, Mike was sitting on the couch with Moishe in his lap.

“Here you go,” she said, setting the cake and the milk on the coffee table. “Try the cake and see how you like it.”

Mike took a bite and nodded. “I like it a lot, unless you’ve been watching Arsenic And Old Lace.”

“I haven’t seen it for years, and my almonds aren’t bitter,” Hannah said, referring to the fact that arsenic tasted like bitter almonds. “How did they discover that, anyway?”

“You mean about the bitter almonds?”

“Yes. You can’t ask dead people how the poison that killed them tasted.”

Mike threw back his head and laughed. “You’re right. Somebody must have tasted it without swallowing. Or reported the taste before they died.”

“Gruesome. And that reminds me, did Doc Knight run a tox screen on Gus Klein?”

“Yes. It’s standard operating procedure.”

“Did he happen to find any traces of amphetamine?”

“Why do you want to know that?”