Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder (Hannah Swensen #1)(10)

“Sure, Hannah,” Herb responded, his eyes on the bag of cookies in her hand. “Just make sure you park legally. Are those for me?”

Hannah handed him the bag. “You’re doing a great job protecting the kids. I’m sure the parents appreciate it.”

“Thanks.” Herb looked pleased at her compliment. “Does your mother still hate me for that ticket I gave her?”

“She doesn’t exactly hate you, Herb.” Hannah decided that this wasn’t the time to tell Herb precisely what her mother had called him. “But she’s still a little put out.”

“I’m sorry I had to do it, Hannah. I like your mother, but I can’t have people speeding through town.”

“I understand and I think Mother does, too. She’s just not quite willing to admit it yet.” Hannah began to grin. “At least one good thing came out of that ticket.”

“What’s that?”

“She stopped trying to fix me up with you.”

Hannah was chuckling as she drove off. Judging from the surprised expression on Herb’s face, he hadn’t guessed that her mother had previously considered him for the position of son-in-law.

The wide gate that separated the teachers’ parking lot from the school grounds was open and Hannah drove through. As she traveled down the lane between the rows of parked cars, she noticed a conspicuous absence of new or expensive vehicles. Teaching didn’t pay well enough for any luxuries, and Hannah thought that was a shame. There was something really wrong with the system when a teacher could make more money flipping burgers at a fast-food chain.

The strip of blacktop by the back door of the cafeteria was peppered with warning signs. Hannah pulled up by one that read: “NO PARKING AT ANY TIME BY ORDER OF THE LAKE EDEN PARKING AUTHORITY.” In smaller letters, it warned that violators would be prosecuted to the full extent of the law, but Herb was the sole employee of the Lake Eden Parking Authority and he was out watching the front entrance. Hannah didn’t feel guilty about violating a city parking statute. She was running late and she had to unload her supplies. In less than ten minutes a horde of hungry Boy Scouts would be clamoring for her cookies and lemonade.

The minute that Hannah pulled up, Edna Ferguson opened the kitchen door. She was a bird-thin woman in her fifties and she wore a welcoming smile. “Hi, Hannah. I was wondering when you’d get here. Do you want some help unloading?”

“Thanks, Edna.” Hannah handed her a box of supplies to carry. “The Scouts aren’t here yet, are they?”

Edna shook her hair-netted head. “Mr. Purvis called an all-school assembly and they’re still in the auditorium. If their parents aren’t here to pick them up, he wants them to walk home in groups.”

Hannah nodded, hefting the large box of cookies that Lisa had packed, and followed Edna into the school kitchen. As she entered the large room with its wall-long counters and massive appliances, Hannah wondered what it would be like to be the last child in the group. You’d start off together, feeling safe by virtue of sheer numbers, but one by one your friends would peel off to go into their own homes. When the last one had left, you’d have to go the rest of the way by yourself, hoping and praying that the killer wasn’t lurking in the bushes.

“There was no suffering, was there, Hannah?”

Hannah set the box down and turned to Edna. “What?”

“With Ron. I’ve been thinking about it all day. He was such a nice boy. If it was his time to die, I hope it was quick and painless.”

Hannah didn’t believe that everyone had a prearranged time to die. Thinking like that was too much like buying a lottery ticket and figuring that it was your turn to win the jackpot. “Bill told me he thought it was instantaneous.”

“I guess we should be grateful for that. And to think that he was right here, only minutes before he was murdered! It’s enough to give a body chills!”

Hannah placed her lemons on one of Edna’s chopping blocks and began to cut them into paper-thin slices. “Then Ron made his delivery this morning?”

“Of course. That boy never missed a day. He was real conscientious and he took pride in his work.”

Hannah added this tidbit to the small stockpile of facts she’d gathered. Ron had stocked Jordan High’s cooler this morning, for whatever that was worth. “Did you see him this morning?”

“No. I never do. I don’t come in until eight and he was long gone by then. But the cooler had been stocked.”

Hannah unpacked her heavy-duty plastic punchbowl and handed it to Edna. She only used the glass one for formal functions like weddings and the senior prom. Then she picked up the huge thermos of lemonade and the bowl of lemon slices she’d cut, and led the way into the main part of the cafeteria. A table had already been set up for refreshments, covered with a blue paper tablecloth, and there was a cardboard file box at the head of another similarly covered table.

“Gil came down on his free period to set up,” Edna told her. “He said to tell you that he’s bringing a balloon centerpiece.”

“Okay, I’ll leave room for it.” Hannah motioned for Edna to put the punchbowl down. Then she opened the thermos and started to pour the lemonade into the bowl. “You didn’t notice anything unusual about the way Ron left the kitchen?”

“Can’t say as I did. What’s in those ice cubes, Hannah? They look cloudy.”