Carrot Cake Murder (Hannah Swensen, #10)(96)

“I didn’t quite hear you, Hannah. What was that again?” Delores asked her.

Hannah thought fast. “I said Oh, Mother to get your attention. I wanted to ask you when they’re going to publish your book.”

“Sometime next year.”

Perfect, Hannah thought. That should give me enough time to sell The Cookie Jar and move hundreds of miles away.

“Will you let me know exactly when?” she asked.

“Of course. Are you going to hold a launch party for me, dear?”

“Oh, definitely!” Hannah said, wondering how much money it would cost to launch her mother straight to the moon.

As she walked to her cookie truck, still sandwiched between Mike and Norman, Hannah had a sneaking suspicion that the last of the summer evenings had come and gone. There was a crispness to the air that spoke of leaves turning colors, pumpkins ripening on the vine, and chrysanthemums triumphing as the last flower of autumn before winter’s icy fingers sprinkled snow on the flowerbeds.

“What time is it anyway?” Hannah asked, since she’d forgotten her watch on her dressing table.

“Almost eight,” Norman answered her.

“How about a movie at my place,” she suggested, now that she’d finally caught up on her sleep. “I rented two of the newest releases at the video store, and I’ve got the leftover Black Forest Brownies.”

Mike shook his head. “It sounds great, but I’ve got to pass. I dropped Ronni at the mall on my way here, and I have to meet her and drive her home. Her car’s not working right.”

A likely story, Hannah thought. As a matter of fact, it was the very same story Shawna Lee had used when she’d lived in Mike’s apartment complex. “Ronni’s out there shopping?” she asked, just barely managing to keep the pleasant expression on her face.

“No, she’s job hunting. She doesn’t make that much at the sheriff’s station, and she needs to get part time work.”

“Well, I hope she finds something. Tell her I wish her luck.”

“That’s nice of you, Hannah.” Mike gave her a warm smile. “I’ll tell her.”

Hannah was grateful that Mike couldn’t read her mind and know that the real reason she hoped Ronni would find work was so that she’d spend less time at the apartment complex with Mike. But some things were better left unsaid, and Hannah turned to Norman. “How about you? Would you like to watch a movie with me?”

“I’d love to, but I can’t. I promised Mother I’d meet them at Granny’s Attic and check their Internet connection. Your mother tried to get online this afternoon, and she kept getting error messages. It’s probably just a loose connection or a reset problem, but they want to keep up with the bids on the Honus Wagner card.”

“You can’t blame them for that!” Mike said, grinning at Norman. “It’s hard to believe that a little piece of cardboard with a picture on it could go for that much.”

They arrived at her cookie truck, and Norman reached out to touch Hannah’s shoulder. “See you for coffee tomorrow, Hannah.”

“Me, too,” Mike said, reaching out to pat her other shoulder. “Bake some more of those Black Forest Brownies, okay? They’re the best brownies I ever ate.”

And with that the two men in her life walked away toward their respective vehicles. No kisses. No hugs. Nothing but pats on her shoulder.

“Rejected,” Hannah said, sighing theatrically as she climbed into her cookie truck. It was an attempt to make light of it, but if she were to be entirely truthful, she did feel a bit abandoned.

She started the engine and gave a little wave as she passed Norman and Mike. Then she drove down the gravel side road that wound through the stand of trees, and turned onto the access road toward the highway.

She zipped along at good speed. There was no traffic to speak of. When she turned on Old Lake Road, it was also deserted, and she was just turning in at her complex when the cell phone in her purse rang. Her first instinct was to ignore it, but it rang again, and then again. Hannah stopped at the gate and pulled out her cell phone. It could be some sort of emergency. Not that many people had her cell phone number.

“Hello,” she said, hoping it wasn’t a random sales call.

“Hannah. I’m so glad I caught you! I tried your condo, but I got your answer machine.”

For a moment that lasted no longer than a heartbeat, Hannah was puzzled by the identity of her caller. Then she recognized his voice, and a smile spread over her face. “Hi, Ross,” she said. “Are you in California?”

“No, I’m in Minneapolis.”

“That’s wonderful! Are you coming to Lake Eden?”

“I’d love to, but I can’t. I’m only here for eight and a half hours. I was flying to New York and we had to land here, some kind of mechanical problems. They’re transferring us to another flight, but it won’t leave here until four-thirty in the morning.”

“So you’re stuck at the airport until four-thirty?”

“Not the airport. Since the delay is longer than eight hours, they put us up at the Airport Hilton. Do you know where that is?”

“Sure,” Hannah said, her smile growing wider.

“How about driving down? I haven’t seen you in a long time, Hannah. And I’ve missed you.”