Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder (Hannah Swensen #1)(100)

Hannah stood at the stovetop, stirring the hot chocolate and listening to Norman and Candy. He’d only been talking to her for a few moments, but already she seemed comfortable with him.

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore,” Norman told her. “Hannah’s going to let you stay.”

“Why would she do that?”

Hannah jumped in, right on cue. Norman had given her the perfect opening for the plan she’d been hatching. “Because I could use some help around here. Have you ever worked as a waitress?”

“Sure,” Candy replied quickly, and then she gave a little sigh, “but not the way you mean. I could do it, though. I know I could. I mean, I know how to set a table, and pour coffee for people, and dish up food and stuff like that. And I can make candy for your shop. I’ve been making candy for a couple of years now, ever since I turned thir…”—Candy stopped abruptly and swallowed hard—“…ever since I was really young.”

Hannah smiled. Getting information from a chilled, tired teenager wasn’t at all difficult. She’d already learned that Candy’s last name started with R, she had a mother and a deceased father who’d been a veterinarian, and a couple of years had passed since she’d been thirteen. If this kept up, they’d have the story of Candy’s life before they’d finished their hot chocolate.

“Here you go,” Hannah said, carrying Candy’s mug to the workstation and setting it down in front of her. She poured a mug for Norman, filled one for herself, and delivered those, too. “I don’t know if you’re still hungry, but would you like a cookie?”

Candy looked delighted. “You bet! I mean…yes, please. You make really good cookies.”

“Thanks.” Hannah hid a grin as she carried a plate of her newest creation to the table. Obviously, Candy had been taught to be polite and that was another fact to add to the mix. “You two can be my taste testers,” she told them. “I’m trying out a new cookie and I’m not sure what I’m going to call it. Maybe you can help me come up with a name.”

“They’re good,” Norman said, after the first bite. “That’s raspberry I taste, isn’t it?”

“Yes. I made them with seedless raspberry jam.”

Candy finished her first cookie and started to reach for a second. Then she drew her hand back and looked at Hannah. “Could I please have another?”

“Of course. Help yourself.”

“I like the way the outside crunches and the inside is chewy.” Candy took another bite and then she looked over at Hannah again. “Could you make them with other jams, like blackberry? Or strawberry, or mixed berry?”

“I don’t see why not. They might not be as attractive if you used blueberry, but any other berry should be fine.”

“That’s perfect, then. How about if you call them Merry Berry Cookies? It rhymes and everything, and that means it’ll be easy to remember. And eating them makes you happy so that’s where the ‘merry’ part comes in.”

“What a great idea!” Norman praised her. “‘Merry Berry Cookies’ sounds perfect to me. Are you sure you don’t have an advanced degree in marketing?”

Candy giggled and Hannah felt like beaming. Norman was helping to relax her, and perhaps she’d tell them more about her background and what she was doing here in Lake Eden.

“I don’t have an advanced degree in anything. I haven’t even finished…” Candy halted and cleared her throat. “I haven’t even declared my major yet.”

Hannah glanced quickly at Norman. They both knew what Candy had been about to say. I haven’t even finished high school, would be a fairly safe guess.

“How old are you, Candy?” Norman asked the question that was on the tip of Hannah’s tongue. It would be interesting to see how many fictional years Candy would add to her young life.

“Twenty,” Candy said, without batting an eyelash, and Hannah got the impression she’d told that particular lie before. “I’ll be twenty-one next month.”

Hannah and Norman locked eyes. Even though they didn’t say a word, Hannah got the feeling that Norman could read her mind and he agreed with what she was thinking. More questions would serve no purpose other than to elicit more lies from Candy. It was time to call it a night and let her think they’d believed her.

Norman gave a yawn that Hannah suspected was purely theatrical, and finished his mug of hot chocolate. “We’d better hit the road, Hannah. Tomorrow’s a workday and you have to get up early.”

“Right,” Hannah agreed, and then she turned to Candy. “You’ll be perfectly safe here if you lock the door behind us. I’ll be back around five tomorrow morning to start the baking.”

“I’ll help you. I like to get up early. Is there anything I can do before you come in?”

“Only if you get up before five.”

“Oh, I will. I’ll be up by four-thirty.”

“Then you can put on the coffee.” Hannah motioned toward the kitchen pot. “The grounds and filters are in the cupboard to the left of the sink.”

“Okay. It’s just like the pot Dad had at the clinic, so I know how to do it. How strong do you like it?”

“As strong as it gets.”