Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder (Hannah Swensen #1)(16)

Hannah’s lights caught the metal reflective triangle that was nailed to a tree trunk at the mouth of Bailey Road and she slowed to take the turn. Bailey Road was gravel because it provided access to only three homes. Freddy Sawyer still lived in his mother’s cottage at the edge of the puddle they called Lake Bailey. He was mildly retarded, but Freddy did just fine living by himself and doing odd jobs for the people in town. The second house on Bailey Road had been finished only last year. Otis Cox and his wife had built their retirement home on the site of his parents’ old cottage. They’d told everyone in town that they liked the quiet and the solitude, but Hannah figured it had more to do with the Lake Eden statute that limited dog owners to three canines per residence. Otis and Eleanor were crazy about dogs and now that they lived outside the town limits, they could take in as many strays as they wanted.

Hannah grinned as she drove past the cozy three-bedroom house. Otis and Eleanor’s matching Explorers were in the driveway, each sporting a new bumper sticker. They were rip-offs of the old “I New York” stickers. They read: “I My Dog.”

The only other residence on Bailey Road, way down at the end where the snowplows had no room to turn around, was the old Hanks place. Ned Hanks, Luanne’s father, had recently died of liver disease, the result of his years of alcohol abuse. Now that Ned was gone, the only occupants of the Hanks place were Luanne, her mother, and Luanne’s baby daughter, Suzie.

As she pulled up in front of the four-room cabin, Hannah thought about Luanne’s strange reaction to Bill. He’d told Hannah that he’d stopped Luanne once, for a broken taillight on the old car she drove, and she’d seemed positively terrified of him. Hannah didn’t understand that at all. Bill was a giant teddy bear, with his easy smile and his nonthreatening manner. He didn’t have a mean bone in his body, and everyone in Lake Eden knew it.

Hannah really didn’t know Luanne that well. She’d met her a couple of times when Michelle had brought her home from school and she’d seen her at the cafe, but they hadn’t exchanged more than a few polite words. All the same, Hannah admired her. Even though Luanne had dropped out of high school in her senior year, she’d continued to study throughout her pregnancy and she’d passed the equivalency test for her diploma. Luanne was a hard worker at the cafe, always pleasant and neatly groomed, and now that her father was dead, she was the sole support of her mother and Suzie. Though there were rumors, no one really knew who had fathered Luanne’s baby. Anyone who’d had gall to ask Luanne directly had received a perfectly polite, “I’d rather not say.”

Naturally, Hannah had brought cookies. She’d packed up a bag with a dozen of her Old-Fashioned Sugar Cookies and she grabbed it as she got out of her Suburban. There was a mouth-watering aroma in the crisp night air and Hannah sniffed appreciatively. Someone was cooking supper and it smelled like fried ham and biscuits.

Luanne was clearly surprised to see Hannah when she answered the knock at the door. “Hannah! What are you doing way out here?”

“I need to talk to you, Luanne.” Hannah handed her the cookie bag. “I brought some Old-Fashioned Sugar Cookies for Suzie.”

Luanne’s eyes narrowed perceptively, and Hannah didn’t blame her. She was practically a stranger and after all Luanne had been through, it was natural not to trust people. “How nice. Suzie loves sugar cookies. But why do you need to talk to me?”

“It’s about lipstick. Do you have a couple of minutes?”

Luanne hesitated for a moment, and then said, “Come on in. Just let me serve supper and then I’m all yours. I already ate at the cafe.”

Hannah stepped through the doorway into a wide rectangular room. The kitchen was at one end, there was a table in the center for eating, and a couch, two chairs, and a television set were down at the other end. Though it was shabby, it was squeaky-clean and two-thirds of the floor was carpeted with carpet samples that had been sewn together in an attractive crazy-quilt pattern.

Mrs. Hanks was sitting at the table, holding Luanne’s baby, and Hannah walked over to her. “Hi, Mrs. Hanks. I’m Hannah Swensen. Luanne went to school with my youngest sister, Michelle.”

“Sit down, Hannah,” Mrs. Hanks invited, patting the chair next to her. “Nice of you to drop by. You need some of Luanne’s lipstick?”

For a moment Hannah was floored, but then she remembered what she’d said at the door. Mrs. Hanks had sharp ears. “That’s right.”

“Why don’t you get Hannah a cup of coffee, honey?” Mrs. Hanks motioned to Luanne. “It’s nippy outside tonight.”

Luanne walked over to set a plate of ham, a bowl of green beans, and a basket of biscuits on the table. “How about it, Hannah? Would you like some coffee?”

“Yes, if it’s made.”

“It’s made.” Luanne went back to the old wood stove and filled a cup from the blue enamel pot that sat at the back. She set it down in front of Hannah and asked, “You still drink it black, don’t you?”

“That’s right. How did you know?”

“From the cafe. The tips are bigger if I remember things like that. Just hold on a minute and I’ll put Suzie in her highchair. Then we can talk about that lipstick.”

Luanne slid her daughter into the highchair and pushed up the tray. She handed Suzie a biscuit and laughed as the little girl tried to push the whole thing into her mouth. “She’s still not clear on the concept of small bites.”