Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder (Hannah Swensen #1)(41)

It must be superstitious behavior, Hannah decided, and as she glanced at the people around her, she realized that every one of them was doing something to try to change their luck. The lady in the red dress talked to her machine, murmuring endearments as the reels spun around. The older man in the polo shirt held down the handle until the reels stopped moving and then he released it to fly back with a jerk. The young brunette in the pink sweater was cupping her left hand in the coin tray as if she could will the coins to fall. Hannah was amused as she turned back to her machine. Everything was mechanized. Didn’t they realize that nothing they could do would change the outcome?

Prompted by the thought that the sooner they left, the sooner she could get home to Moishe and her comfortable bed, Hannah noticed that it was possible to drop five quarters into the coin slot before she pulled the handle. That was nice. She’d get rid of her money five times faster that way. Hannah concentrated on dropping in multiple coins, pulling the handle, and waiting to drop in more.

“Isn’t this fun, Hannah?”

Lisa turned to grin at her and Hannah put on an answering smile. Some fun. As far as she could see, the only benefit that might come from playing the slots was a possible strengthening of the muscles in her right arm.

Hannah dropped in her last five quarters. One more pull of the handle and she’d be finished. She yanked down the lever and turned to Lisa to ask her if she was ready to leave, when a siren wailed, red lights flashed, and quarters began to spew out of her machine.

“You hit a jackpot!” Lisa jumped up from her chair and rushed over to watch the hailstorm of coins bouncing down. “How many quarters did you put in?”

Hannah just stared at the avalanche of coins clanking noisily into the metal tray. “As many as it could take. I just wanted to finish so that we could go home.”

“You did it, Hannah!” Lisa’s mouth dropped open as she looked up at the flashing numbers above the machine. “You just won one thousand nine hundred and forty-two dollars!”

Hannah stared at the flashing numbers with absolute amazement. Then she looked down at the reels and saw that they were all lined up on the jackpot icons. No wonder people liked to play the slot machines. It was a lot more fun than she’d thought.





Chapter Thirteen




“Hey, Moishe. How about some grub?” Hannah tossed her purse onto the couch and carried Moishe out to the kitchen. She draped her parka over a chair, set Moishe down next to his food bowl, and poured in a generous serving of Meow Mix. Then she remembered that she’d just won a slot machine jackpot and she opened a can of fancy albacore tuna and dumped that in, too. Moishe meant more to her than any of the other males in her life. He should enjoy the fruits of her good fortune.

She’d already shared her winnings with Lisa. Hannah had given her a bonus of two hundred dollars, making her promise to buy a fancy dress to go with her new shoes. Lisa hadn’t wanted to take it, but after Hannah had convinced her that she never would have played the slots if Lisa hadn’t urged her, she’d accepted the money.

Hannah had done some mental arithmetic as she’d driven home, taking into account the money she’d spent investigating Ron’s murder for Bill. Even after she’d subtracted the cost of the makeup from Luanne, the dress from Claire, and the money they’d spent at Twin Pines, she’d still come out over a thousand dollars to the good.

While Moishe munched and rumbled his contentment, Hannah marched to the kitchen phone to call Bill and tell him that she’d eliminated the bouncer as a suspect. Bill wasn’t at his desk at the sheriff’s station, but she left a message there and another with Andrea, who promised to prop up a note by the phone. Hannah hung up, her duty done, and went to her bedroom to change into the oversized sweatshirt and sweatpants she’d bought when the furnace had gone out last winter.

Ten minutes later, Hannah was sitting in her favorite spot on the couch, sipping her wine and holding Moishe. He was always starved for affection when she’d been gone for hours, and tonight was no exception. She scratched him under his chin until he purred in ecstasy and she sang the silly little song she’d made up for him. She’d never been able to carry a tune, but as long as she kept on scratching, Moishe seemed to enjoy it. Perhaps it was a very good thing that she lived alone. If anyone had heard her singing about how much she adored her “big strong puss,” she’d be locked up as a nutcase.

The condo complex had free cable and Hannah surfed through the channels. There were fifty, but there was still nothing she wanted to watch. She settled for a documentary on forensics. It was possible she might learn something. But all the expert talked about were the new advances in fingerprint technology. Hannah listened to him expound on the use of superglue in subzero temperatures to lift prints from a victim’s skin and then she switched to the classic movies channel. Klute was playing and she’d seen it before, but she didn’t feel like channel-surfing any longer and she left it on.

Hannah thought about the crime for a while, but that was depressing. None of her sleuthing had done a particle of good. The cup with the lipstick had been promising at first, and she’d managed to find out that Danielle had been with Ron right before he’d been murdered. But what Danielle had told her really hadn’t mattered in the long run. She’d checked out Coach Watson and the jealousy motive, but he’d been with Maryann at his mother’s house when Ron had been shot. Norman was no longer a suspect, now that Delores had confirmed his alibi, and the homeless man that Claire had seen had been eating breakfast at the critical time. The bouncer that Ron had fought with at Twin Pines would be in the clear just as soon as Bill checked with the hospital, and Hannah was fresh out of suspects. She had to come up with some other suspects, but she didn’t have any idea where to start.