Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder (Hannah Swensen #1)(28)

Chapter Nine




Her shop was every bit as crowded as yesterday, and Hannah was relieved when the predictable eleven o’clock lull arrived. It was the time of day when Lake Eden residents decided that it was too late for a breakfast cookie and too early for a lunch cookie. The break gave Hannah time to gather her wits and continue her unofficial, but deputy-sanctioned, investigation. She put on a fresh pot of coffee, wiped down the counter until it was sparkling, and went through the swinging door to the bakery to talk to Lisa.

Lisa had just taken the last pan of cookies from the oven and she greeted Hannah with a smile. “I’m finished with the baking, Hannah. And your plant’s going to make it. Its roots just needed to be soaked.”

“Thanks, Lisa.” Belatedly Hannah remembered the instructions her mother had given her with the plant. African violets needed to be watered from the bottom and not from the top. She walked over to glance at the plant and saw that it looked much perkier. “I think it needs a new caregiver. Take it home with you, Lisa.”

Lisa smiled, clearly delighted with the offer. “It’s a hybrid called ‘Verona’s Delight,’ and it’ll be just gorgeous when it blooms. Are you really sure that you don’t want it?”

“I’m positive. It’ll be a lot happier with you. Can you hold down the fort for me while I run next door to talk to Claire?”

“Sure.” Lisa whisked off her baker’s apron and tied on the fancy one she wore when she handled the counter. “Go ahead, Hannah.”

Hannah stepped out the back door and immediately shivered. The temperature had dropped at least ten degrees and the clouds were gray and ominous-looking. The radio weatherman had promised clear skies, but she’d been listening to a Minneapolis station and that was fifty miles away.

Claire’s Toyota was in her parking spot and Hannah walked over to knock on the back door of Beau Monde Fashions. Claire didn’t open until noon on Thursdays, but she was obviously here.

“Hello, Hannah,” Claire greeted her with a smile. “Come in and I’ll show you that darling dress. I had to pull it off the rack yesterday. Lydia Gradin asked to try it, but it wouldn’t have been right for her. And Kate Maschler had her eye on it, too.”

Hannah felt immediately guilty. Because of her, Claire had lost a potential sale. “You should have let one of them buy it, Claire. I haven’t even tried it on.”

“But you will. And it’ll be absolutely perfect. Come in, Hannah. I’ll show you.”

Hannah sighed and stepped into Claire’s tiny back room. There was an ironing board set up in a corner next to a stack of dress boxes ready to be assembled. The air smelled hot. Claire had obviously been pressing out the wrinkles in her new shipment, and Hannah followed her past racks of newly arrived clothing and stepped around the sewing machine that was set up for alterations. She was frowning as she stepped through the gap in the curtain that separated the back room from the dress shop. She knew she’d have to try on the dress that Claire had chosen for her. It would be rude to refuse.

“Here it is!” Claire opened the closet that held her most expensive dresses and removed a hanger that held a black silk cocktail dress. “Isn’t it just darling?”

Hannah nodded. What else could she do? It looked like an ordinary dress to her, but she knew next to nothing about fashion, and Claire was the expert.

“Go right in and try it on.” Claire led the way to one of her little dressing rooms. “Would you like me to help you?”

“No, thanks. I can manage.” Hannah walked into Claire’s posh little dressing room and shut the door. “Are you out there, Claire?”

“I’m here,” Claire’s voice floated in through the open transom. “Do you need me to zip you up?”

“No, I’m fine. I just wondered if you saw anyone in the alley yesterday morning.”

“Just you, Hannah. Bill already asked and I told him the same thing.”

“How about later?” Hannah unzipped her jeans and let them slip down into a denim pile around her ankles.

“I didn’t go out again until I heard all the commotion.”

Hannah kicked her jeans over to a spot near to the mirror and pulled off her sweatshirt. “Are you sure? You said you were unpacking a new shipment. Didn’t you go out to throw any packing materials in the Dumpster?”

“I don’t think…Yes, I did!” Claire sounded surprised. “You’re right, Hannah. I broke down some cartons and carried them out. And there was someone in the alley. A homeless man was huddled up in the thrift shop doorway, waiting for it to open.”

“Do you have any idea what time that was?” Hannah asked as she removed the black dress from the hanger.

“I think it was about a quarter to eight. When I got back inside, I pressed a dress and then Becky Summers called to ask if the alterations were finished on her new pantsuit. I glanced at my watch and I remember thinking that only Becky would have the nerve to call me a full two hours before I opened, so it must have been eight.”

“What did this homeless man look like?”

“I’m sure you’ve seen him around town, Hannah. He’s tall and his hair sticks up in spikes. It’s this awful red….” Claire paused and she sounded embarrassed when she spoke again. “It’s not like your hair, Hannah. Yours is a lovely auburn color. This man’s hair is so red, it’s almost orange, like a clown.”