Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder (Hannah Swensen #1)(76)

Andrea exchanged a glance with Hannah. She seemed pleased that her daughter had gotten along so well with Bill’s new supervisor. “I’ve got to run, Hannah. I’m taking a load of things out to Luanne, and Tracey’s going to help me. And then we’re going out to the open house at the sheriff’s station.”

“I’ve got to leave, too. I have a patient in twenty minutes.” Norman reached into his pocket, pulled out a stack of business cards, and handed them to Hannah. “These are for you.”

Hannah took the cards and began to smile. They were perfect, and Norman had even printed little cookies around the border. “Thanks, Norman. They’re wonderful.”

“I can print out more if you need them.”

“Let’s hope I do. Hold on just a second.” Hannah opened the cash register and drew out the manila envelope with his mother’s loan papers inside. “Here, Norman. This is for you.”

“For me?” Norman looked puzzled as she handed it to him.

“It’s something I came across the other night. Just open it when you get back to the office. There’s a note inside explaining everything.”

Hannah breathed a deep sigh of relief as they all left together. She had work to do and it didn’t have anything to do with baking, selling, or serving cookies. She grabbed the print she’d taken from Norman and headed off to the back room to tell Lisa that she was going take her up on her offer to stay until closing. She had people to see, calls to make, and if she got lucky, she might be able to solve Bill’s double-homicide case before Monday morning.





Chapter Twenty-Three




Hannah pushed open her condo door and caught a flash of orange out of the corner of her eye. Moishe had just jumped down from his perch on the top of the television set and he looked about as guilty as a cat could look. She glanced at the screen and realized that a nature program was on—one that was running footage of a flock of flamingos flapping their bright pink wings.

“Those birds are four times your size, Moishe.” Hannah gave him a scratch under the chin to let him know that she wasn’t angry. When she’d unlocked the door, her fierce feline hunter had been in the process of hanging over the top of the set to bat at the birds with his paw.

Once she’d switched off the enticing flamingos and hung up her jacket, Hannah walked out to the kitchen to fill Moishe’s food bowl. Of course it was empty. It was always empty. Moishe’s favorite activities when she was gone were eating and napping.

There were three messages on her answer machine. The first was from her downstairs neighbor, Sue Plotnik, asking if she could serve cookies at her Mommy and Me class next week. Hannah penciled it in on her kitchen calendar; she’d transfer it to the one at The Cookie Jar when she went in on Monday. Then she listened to her second message. It was from a man who identified himself as Robert Collins from Hideaway Resorts, who invited her to a complimentary dinner for prospective timeshare investors at a hotel in Minneapolis. Hannah didn’t bother to write down his toll-free number.

The third message made Hannah perk up her ears. It was from Bill and he told her that he just wanted to keep her up to speed. The manager from Compacts Unlimited had contacted him this morning. Since she still didn’t have the printout, she’d called all their other car lots and one of them had handled a rental for a customer with a Lake Eden address. Boyd Watson had rented a black compact from their St. Paul lot on Tuesday.

Naturally, Bill had checked it out. He’d called the principal, Mr. Purvis, and he’d found out that Coach Watson had been attending a statewide coaching clinic at the time. Since Boyd hadn’t come back to town until noon on Wednesday, that ruled him out as a possible suspect.

Hannah’s forehead furrowed as she poured herself a glass of diet Coke and carried it into the living room. When Maryann had said that she’d driven to Minneapolis to go shopping with Boyd, she’d assumed that Maryann had picked him up and they’d gone to the Mall of America together. But Maryann had said that she’d met her brother at the mall. Boyd must have had his rental car by then. But why would Coach Watson go to the trouble and expense of renting a car for less than twenty-four hours when his sister was coming to meet him? It just didn’t make sense.

She sighed and reached out to pet Moishe, who’d forsaken his food dish for the soft cushion of the couch and her company. Had Coach Watson been behind the wheel of the black compact that Mr. Harris had seen roaring out of the Cozy Cow driveway? The timetable was tight, but it was possible that Boyd had left before dawn, while Maryann and his mother were still asleep, and driven to Lake Eden. His last name began with a W, and he could have been the one to meet Max. If Maryann and her mother had slept until nine, Boyd might have had time to shoot both Max and Ron and get back before they woke up. But what possible motive could Coach Watson have for killing Max?

Hannah thought back to everything that she’d learned about the Watsons. Danielle’s ring had cost a thousand dollars and the dress she’d worn to the Woodleys’ party had sold for over five hundred. Boyd and Danielle lived in a very expensive house, and Danielle didn’t work. Boyd drove a new Jeep Grand Cherokee, and Danielle had a new Lincoln. How could Coach Watson afford to maintain their expensive lifestyle on a teacher’s salary?

“Boyd got a personal loan from Max!” Hannah exclaimed, causing Moishe to rear back and stare at her. “Sorry, Moishe. I didn’t mean to shout, but it’s the only thing that makes sense. There weren’t any loan papers for him, but the safe was open and he would have taken them right after he shot Max. And then he killed Ron because Ron had seen him with Max!”