Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder (Hannah Swensen #1)(3)

“I just got in a new shipment of party dresses and they have to be priced.” Claire’s classically beautiful face lit up in a smile. “The holidays are coming, you know.”

Hannah nodded. She wasn’t looking forward to Thanksgiving and Christmas with her mother and sisters, but it was an ordeal that had to be endured for the sake of family peace.

“You should stop by, Hannah.” Claire gave her an appraising look, taking in the bomber jacket that had seen better days and the old wool watch cap that Hannah had pulled over her frizzy red curls. “I have a stunning little black cocktail dress that would do wonders for you.”

Hannah smiled and nodded, but she had all she could do to keep from laughing as Claire unlocked the rear door to Beau Monde Fashions and stepped inside. Where could she wear a cocktail dress in Lake Eden? No one hosted any cocktail parties and the only upscale restaurant in town had closed down right after the tourists had left. Hannah couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone out to a fancy dinner. For that matter, she couldn’t remember the last time that anyone had asked her out on a date.

Hannah unlocked her back door and pushed it open. The sweet smell of cinnamon and molasses greeted her, and she began to smile. She’d mixed up several batches of cookie dough last night and the scent still lingered. She flipped on the lights, hung her jacket on the hook by the door, and fired up the two industrial gas ovens that sat against the back wall. Her assistant, Lisa Herman, would be here at seven-thirty to start the baking.

The next half hour passed quickly as Hannah chopped, melted, measured, and mixed ingredients. By trial and error, she’d found that her cookies tasted better if she limited herself to batches that she could mix by hand. Her recipes were originals, developed in her mother’s kitchen when she was a teenager. Delores thought baking was a chore and she’d been happy to delegate that task to her eldest daughter so that she could devote all of her energies to collecting antiques.

At ten past seven, Hannah carried the last bowl of cookie dough to the cooler and stacked the utensils she’d used in her industrial-sized dishwasher. She hung up her work apron, removed the paper cap she’d used to cover her curls, and headed off to the coffee shop to start the coffee.

A swinging restaurant-style door separated the bakery from the coffee shop. Hannah pushed it open and stepped inside, flipping on the old-fashioned globe fixtures she’d salvaged from a defunct ice-cream parlor in a neighboring town. She walked to the front windows, pulled aside the chintz curtains, and surveyed the length of Main Street. Nothing was moving; it was still too early, but Hannah knew that within the hour, the chairs that surrounded the small round tables in her shop would be filled with customers. The Cookie Jar was a meeting place for the locals, a choice spot to exchange gossip and plan out the day over heavy white mugs of strong coffee and freshly baked cookies from her ovens.

The stainless-steel coffee urn gleamed brightly and Hannah smiled as she filled it with water and measured out the coffee. Lisa had scoured it yesterday, restoring it to its former splendor. Lisa was a pure godsend when it came to running the bakery and the coffee shop. She saw what needed to be done, did it without being asked, and had even come up with a few cookie recipes of her own to add to Hannah’s files. It was a real pity that Lisa hadn’t used her academic scholarship to go on to college, but her father, Jack Herman, was suffering from Alzheimer’s and Lisa had decided to stay home to take care of him.

Hannah removed three eggs from the refrigerator behind the counter and dropped them, shells and all, into the bowl with the coffee grounds. Then she broke them open with a heavy spoon and added a dash of salt. Once she’d mixed up the eggs and shells with the coffee grounds, Hannah scraped the contents of the bowl into the basket and flipped on the switch to start the coffee.

A few minutes later, the coffee began to perk and Hannah sniffed the air appreciatively. Nothing smelled better than freshly brewed coffee, and everyone in Lake Eden said that her coffee was the best. Hannah tied on the pretty chintz apron she wore for serving her customers and ducked back through the swinging door to give Lisa her instructions.

“Bake the Chocolate Chip Crunches first, Lisa.” Hannah gave Lisa a welcoming smile.

“They’re already in the ovens, Hannah.” Lisa looked up from the stainless-steel work surface, where she was scooping out dough with a melon-baller and placing the perfectly round spheres into a small bowl filled with sugar. She was only nineteen, ten years younger than Hannah was, and her petite form was completely swaddled in the huge white baker’s apron she wore. “I’m working on the Molasses Crackles for the Boy Scout Awards Banquet now.”

Hannah had originally hired Lisa as a waitress, but it hadn’t taken her long to see that Lisa was capable of much more than pouring coffee and serving cookies. At the end of the first week, Hannah had increased Lisa’s hours from part-time to full-time and taught her to bake. Now they handled the business together, as a team.

“How’s your father today?” Hannah’s voice held a sympathetic note.

“Today’s a good day.” Lisa placed the unbaked tray of Molasses Crackles on the baker’s rack. “Mr. Drevlow is taking him to the Seniors’ Group at Holy Redeemer Lutheran.”

“But I thought your family was Catholic.”

“We are, but Dad doesn’t remember that. Besides, I don’t see how having lunch with the Lutherans could possibly hurt.”