Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder (Hannah Swensen #1)(24)

Hannah watched as Moishe began to lap up the yogurt. She didn’t know if it was usual feline behavior since she’d never shared her home with a cat before, but Moishe had perfected the act of eating and purring simultaneously.

Bill hadn’t arrived at the fundraiser by the time she’d packed up, and Hannah assumed that he was still at his desk, doing battle with the quadruplicate forms that were required by the latest paper-reduction act. She punched out the number of the sheriff’s station and was rewarded when Bill answered on the first ring.

“Bill?” Hannah frowned. Her favorite, and only, brother-in-law sounded tired and out of sorts. “It’s Hannah. I managed to identify the woman with the pink lipstick, but I can’t tell you who she is.”

Bill’s reaction was loud and predictable, and Hannah set the phone down on the table. She knew she should have been more careful about the way she’d phrased that particular bit of information, but she’d exceeded her tact quotient for one day.

When the volume of irate squawks had diminished somewhat, Hannah brought the phone back to her ear. “Listen up, Bill. This woman doesn’t have anything to do with the murder. I’d stake my life on it. And she split up with Ron right after they stocked the school cooler. The only way I could get her to tell me anything at all was to promise that I wouldn’t reveal her identity.”

The squawks were fewer this time around and Hannah settled for merely holding the receiver away from her ear. When they stopped, she continued. “I can’t break my promise to her, Bill. You know how the people in Lake Eden are. If the word gets out that I betrayed a confidence, nobody’ll trust me enough to give me the time of day.”

“I don’t like it, but I guess we’ll just have to play this your way.” Bill sounded mollified. “You can talk to this woman again if we need her, can’t you?”

“Of course I can. She was cooperative and she’s very grateful that I’m keeping her identity a secret.”

“You’ll probably get further with her if she thinks of you like a friend. Remember, Hannah, I don’t want you to tell anybody that you’re in on the investigation. You can talk to Andrea, but that’s it. I’m not writing your name on my reports. I’m just referring to you as my snitch.”

“Your snitch?” Hannah took a sip of her far-from-premium wine.

“A snitch is a person whose identity is protected by the investigating officer. You must have learned that from those detective shows you’re always watching.”

Hannah rolled her eyes at Moishe. “I know what a snitch is. Why can’t I be your undercover agent?”

“My undercover agent?” That made Bill laugh, but once he realized that Hannah wasn’t laughing with him, he backtracked fast. “All right. Consider yourself my undercover agent. What else have you got?”

“The woman with the pink lipstick told me that Ron got into a fight at Twin Pines last night. She thinks he cracked a tooth because his jaw swelled up. Remember when I told you I saw him cupping his jaw this morning?”

“Right. You said you thought he was thinking about something important. I’ve got it right here in your interview notes.”

“Well, I was wrong. His tooth hurt and that’s why he had his hand on the side of his face.”

There was a moment of silence and Hannah heard a pen scratch. Bill was taking notes. Finally he said, “That makes sense. Did this woman know who Ron fought with at the casino?”

“No, it happened before she got there. I’ll try to find out for you, Bill.”

“I know I asked you to nose around, but this isn’t a game, Hannah.” Bill sounded worried. “Ron was murdered in cold blood and the killer won’t hesitate to take you out if he thinks you’re on to something.”

Hannah swallowed hard, the image of Ron’s lifeless body flitting across the screen of her mind. “You’re scaring me, Bill. Do you really think it could be that dangerous?”

“Of course it could. Promise me that you’ll be careful, Hannah. And call me right away with anything you learn, even if it’s four in the morning.”

“I will. Good night, Bill.” Hannah shivered as she hung up the phone. She’d been thinking of Ron’s murder as a puzzle to be solved, but Bill had reminded her that it was dangerous to try to uncover a killer. As she finished her wine, Hannah decided that she’d be a lot more cautious in the future.

There was a plaintive yowl from the direction of the coffee table and Hannah saw that Moishe was doing one of his incredibly wide kitty yawns. It was definitely time for bed. She scooped him up, carried him into the bedroom, and set him down on the mattress.

When she was ready for bed, Hannah climbed under the covers and pulled her roommate over for a cuddle. But Moishe had been a loner too long. Sweet words, ear scratches, and tabby treats would never turn him into a tame and obliging house cat. He permitted a few pets, but then he moved over to claim Hannah’s other pillow and ignored her completely by going to sleep.





Chapter Eight




Hannah woke up with a start. She’d been having a nightmare and Norman Rhodes, an insane dentist with a drill that sounded like a dump truck backing up, had been grinding her teeth. Since she’d refused to unclench her jaw, he’d been doing his evil dentistry right through her cheek. When she opened her eyes, she was relieved to find that it was only Moishe, licking her face with his sandpaper tongue to wake her.