Carrot Cake Murder (Hannah Swensen, #10)(78)

“It’s a possibility,” Andrea said.

“And we won’t know until we check out his alibi,” Hannah added. “We need to ask Bert where he was between one and three on Monday morning.”

“I’ll watch Tracey,” Michelle promised. “And if you’re not back by eleven, I’ll take her out to the raft to judge the swimming races with me.”

Patsy looked horrified. “Oh, don’t do that! What if she falls in the water?”

“It’s okay. Tracey can swim,” Andrea reassured her. “As a matter of fact, she’s entered in the kindergarten races.”

“She learned to swim this early?” Marge asked.

“Oh, yes. When Tracey was in preschool, Janice Cox taught the whole class to swim. And this year Tracey’s in kindergarten, so she gets to use the school pool.”

“I’ll make sure I go to the races to cheer her on,” Marge promised.

“How long do you think you’ll be gone?” Patsy asked, stacking up the plates on the table.

“An hour at the most,” Hannah told her.

“You should be fine then,” Patsy said with a nod. “I looked at the schedule when I thought I’d have to be a judge, and the kindergarten race is the last one.”





Chapter Twenty-Six


When Hannah and Andrea pulled up in Bertanelli’s parking lot, it was far from packed. It was clear that pizza was not the breakfast of choice in Lake Eden. Hannah parked her cookie truck near the door, and they hopped out.

“How are we going to do this?” Andrea asked her.

“We’ll just wing it. Do you think you can eat a pizza?”

Andrea thought about it as they went through the door and headed to the main room to find a booth. “I think so,” she said. “But only if it’s sausage, pepperoni, and extra cheese.”

“No anchovies?” Hannah teased her.

“Not before noon. There’s something about anchovies in the morning that’s just not right, you know?”

Hannah knew. It was a lot like orange juice on corn flakes, a combination she’d once seen a friend attempt to eat when she was out of milk. It wasn’t that it was so awful. It was just that it wasn’t right.

“Hi, ladies,” a waitress came over to greet them a moment after they’d taken a booth near the back of the room. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Coffee would be good,” Hannah told her.

And almost simultaneously, Andrea said, “I’ll have coffee, please.”

“Two coffees coming right up.”

Andrea waited until they were alone again, and then she leaned closer to Hannah. “You mentioned that Norman was out of town. Did he go where I think he went?”

“That depends on where you think he went.”

“Atlantic City?”

“That’s right.”

“To check out Mood Indigo?”

“Right, again. He said he’d call me on my cell phone just as soon as he found out anything at all.”

“And you’ve got your cell phone with you?”

“I do,” Hannah said, patting her oversize purse.

“And you remembered to plug it into the charger last night?”

“I did.”

“And you’ve got it turned on?”

“I do.”

The waitress came back to their booth with two mugs of coffee. “Here you go,” she said, setting a mug in front of each of them.

“Thanks.” Hannah decided that there was no time like the present to find out about Bert. “Is Bert in?”

“Not yet.”

“How about Ellie?” Andrea asked.

“She’s not here yet, either. They’re still catching up on sleep from Sunday night.”

Hannah and Andrea exchanged glances. “What happened on Sunday night?” Andrea asked.

“The weekly cash register tapes didn’t tally with the orders from the kitchen, and we had to find the error.”

Hannah picked up on the collective pronoun. “Who’s we?” she asked.

“Bert, Ellie, and me. I’m the head waitress, so I’m responsible for the others. We went through everything until we found it.”

“What was it?” Andrea asked her.

“One of the new waitresses transposed a couple of numbers. It was an honest mistake, but the register was short and we had to account for it.”

“So how late were you here?” Hannah asked the critical question.

“Until a quarter to three. We close at midnight on Sundays, so it took us two hours and forty-five minutes to find it.”

“I’m glad you found it,” Hannah said. And in her mind she added, in more ways than one.

“So am I! I’m just glad that nobody had a hand in the till. That happens sometimes in the restaurant business. Would you ladies like a menu? Or do you know what kind of pizza you want?”

“We’d like a medium sausage with pepperoni, and extra cheese.” Hannah ordered what Andrea had dictated.

“And mushrooms,” Andrea added. “And black olives, too. What other toppings do you have?”

The waitress looked up from her order pad. “How about onions, fresh tomatoes, and anchovies?”