Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder (Hannah Swensen #1)(25)

The alarm clock was serenading her with its irritating electronic beep, and Hannah moved Moishe over so that she could reach out and shut it off. It was still dark outside, but the security light on the side of the building had come on. Since it detected any type of motion, Hannah figured that it had been set off by a winter bird that had swooped down to peck at the birdseed bell she’d hung outside her window.

“Okay, I’m getting up. I know it’s feed-the-kitty time.” Hannah levered her head from the warm comfort of her pillow and sat up in bed. She dangled her feet over the side of the mattress and searched with her toes for the pair of slippers she kept there. She nabbed one, then the other, and wiggled her feet into the gray scuffs that had once been powder blue.

When she got to the kitchen, the coffee was ready, and Hannah gave thanks for the timer she’d rigged to the kitchen outlet. Some of the older women in Lake Eden called strong black coffee “Swedish plasma” and Hannah agreed with that definition. She couldn’t even think, much less function, until she’d downed at least a cup. She poured herself a mug of the steaming, caffeine-laden brew, threw some kitty crunchies into Moishe’s bowl, and sat down at the table.

There was something very important on the docket for today. Hannah took a big gulp of her coffee, hoping to dispel the morning cobwebs that had gathered in her head during the night. It wasn’t a new catering job. She had her schedule set for this week.

The sound of loud chewing roused Hannah from her zombielike state and she turned to look at Moishe. His kitty crunchies were living up to their name. He was chomping so hard, he sounded as if he might break a tooth and…“Ron’s tooth! That’s it!”

Moishe gave her a startled look and then he buried his head in his food bowl again. Hannah grinned. He probably thought she was crazy for hollering out loud, but she’d just remembered what Tracey had told her, right before she’d discovered Ron’s body. Tracey had said she’d waved at Ron and he’d given her a “funny” smile. People who’d just come from the dentist had “funny” smiles, especially if the dentist had given them a shot of novocaine. And Danielle had said that she’d urged Ron to go to the dentist.

Hannah reached out for the yellow pad she kept on the kitchen table and jotted down a note to herself. Call every dentist in town. Did they see Ron yesterday morning? Then she grinned at what she’d written. Every dentist? There were only two dentists in Lake Eden: Doc Bennett and Norman Rhodes. Doc Bennett was retired, but he still kept a few of his former patients in enamel, and Hannah hoped that Ron had been one of them. She certainly wasn’t looking forward to the prospect of calling Norman. He might think that she was following up on her mother’s attempt at matchmaking and nothing could be further from the truth.

It took a second mug of coffee, but at last Hannah felt she was ready to face the morning. She added a second note to her first—Drive to Twin Pines to check out the bouncer—and then she pushed back her chair. It was time to get ready for work.

Since she never ate breakfast, Hannah was usually ready to go in record time. She made quick work of her shower, dressed in faded jeans and a flowered sweatshirt, and hurried back to the kitchen to fast-forward through the messages on her answering machine. They were all from her mother. Delores sounded like a talking chipmunk at the increased-speed playback and Hannah was amused. She knew she’d have to return her mother’s calls eventually, but that could wait until she got to The Cookie Jar.

“See you tonight, Moishe.” Hannah grabbed her keys from the corkboard next to the phone and glanced at the African violet as she passed by the table. Its leaves were turning yellow and it looked in imminent danger of becoming mulch. She shrugged into her bomber jacket and snatched up the plant, carrying it with her out the door. Lisa was a wizard with plants. She might be able to resuscitate it.

It wasn’t until Hannah was approaching the dairy that it hit her, and she winced as she drove past the white cinderblock building with the huge Cozy Cow sign on the roof. Ron was gone. She’d never see him loading his truck again.

That was a sobering thought and Hannah almost blew off the stop sign at the corner of Main and Third. She managed to brake just in time and she smiled guiltily at Herb Beeseman, who was lurking in the alley by the Cut ’n Curl. Herb just shook his finger in a good-natured “no-no” gesture, and Hannah breathed a sigh of relief. Herb was being very nice this morning. He could have given her a ticket for reckless driving, but he seemed more amused than angry. The Molasses Crackles she’d given him yesterday afternoon had been a very good investment.

As she turned the corner and drove into the alley behind her shop, Hannah wondered who’d hauled away Ron’s truck. Max Turner would be livid if it had been impounded and he was one truck short for his delivery routes. She steered a wide berth around the place where Ron had been shot and gave a fleeting thought to the difference between the fronts of the shops and the backs. There were no decorative planters in the alley for shrubbery or flowers, no plate-glass windows for displays and signs. The backs of the shops were institutional-looking, just parking places, Dumpsters, and blank walls with small doors set in at regular intervals. It wasn’t a nice place to die, but that raised another question. Was there a nice place to die? And did it really matter to the deceased?

Morbid thinking was getting her nowhere, and Hannah drove on down the alley. If Ron had been killed on the street, there might have been witnesses, but the alley was usually deserted and she hadn’t seen any activity when she’d driven in yesterday morning. Even though she hadn’t been paying much attention, Hannah was sure she would have noticed if there had been anyone prowling around the Dumpsters or standing near any of the doorways. The only other person she’d seen yesterday morning had been Claire Rodgers.