Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder (Hannah Swensen #1)(79)

“Yes, but he told her that he was going to get up early and go out for doughnuts. His mother just loves doughnuts. Boyd brought them back with him after he saw Dr. Holland.”

Boyd’s appointment could be verified with a phone call and Hannah decided she’d do it the minute that she got home. “Did Boyd ever borrow money from Max Turner?”

“From Max?” Danielle frowned. “I don’t think so. Why?”

“I’m going to tell you something, but you have to promise not to mention it, Danielle. Not even to Boyd.”

“All right,” Danielle agreed, but she looked a bit uneasy. “What is it?”

“Max lent money to quite a few people in Lake Eden and one of those loans might have something to do with his death. Why did you say you didn’t think Boyd had borrowed from him?”

“Because Boyd doesn’t need to borrow money when he’s got mine. You must know what teachers are paid, Hannah. We could never afford to live on Boyd’s salary alone. We bought the cars and the house and practically everything we have with my money.”

Hannah’s eyebrows shot ceilingward. This was a surprise development. “What money is that?”

“The money I inherited from my uncle. I was always his favorite and he left it to me. He put it in a trust fund and I get a lump sum every year.”

“And that’s why you can afford all these luxuries?”

“That’s right. When I get my lump sum in January, I give Boyd half and my mother invests the rest for me. We’ve done really well on the stock market, and Dr. Holland thinks that’s part of Boyd’s problem. It’s very difficult for a strong male like Boyd to be married to a woman who makes a lot more money than he does.”

“I suppose it is.” Hannah settled for a safe comment.

“That’s the reason I keep my inheritance a secret,” Danielle confided. “Dr. Holland says that Boyd’s ego is too fragile and he’d be tempted to strike out even more if his friends knew. You won’t mention it, will you?”

“Absolutely not,” Hannah agreed quickly. She could imagine the damage that Boyd would inflict on his wife if the word got out that Danielle was supporting them. He might even borrow a page from the storybook and kill the goose that laid the golden egg.





Chapter Twenty-Four




“I know it’s confusing,” Hannah tried to explain as she walked back into her condo. It was clear by his startled expression that Moishe didn’t know what to make of her comings and goings today. “I’ve come back to make a few phone calls. What do you say I keep you busy with a dish of ice cream?”

Moishe rubbed against her ankles as Hannah pulled a carton of French vanilla out of the freezer and scooped some into a dessert dish. She carried it out to the living room, set it down on the coffee table, and patted the surface. Moishe didn’t need a second invitation. He approached the dish, sniffed at the mound of icy white, and then tasted it with the tip of his tongue. The cold must have surprised him because he drew back to stare at it, but that didn’t stop him from going back for a second lick.

While Moishe was busy exploring this intriguing new foodstuff, Hannah flopped down on the couch and reached for the phone. She had to call Dr. Holland to confirm that Boyd Watson had kept his appointment on Wednesday morning.

Five minutes later, Hannah had her answer. She’d pretended to be a medical claims adjuster and she’d asked Dr. Holland’s receptionist to verify the time of the appointment. The receptionist had told her that Mr. Watson had seen Dr. Holland at seven in the morning and that his appointment had lasted the usual fifty minutes.

“I don’t know whether I should be relieved, or disappointed,” Hannah confided to her feline roommate. Boyd Watson wasn’t the killer and he was free to batter Danielle whenever he felt the urge.

But there was still that photo of the rental car folder in the snapshot that Norman’s mother had taken. And Woodley also started with a W. Hannah went to the kitchen to fetch herself another diet Coke and thought about the rental car that someone in the Woodley household had used. She didn’t think that either Judith or Del would have rented a nondescript black compact, not when they had a whole garage full of luxury vehicles to choose from. But there was Benton and his name wouldn’t have raised any red flags for the manager at Compacts Unlimited because his driver’s license would still show his East Coast residence. Benton could have rented a compact car to drive from the airport to Lake Eden. He’d told Andrea and Bill that he’d taken the shuttle, but that didn’t necessarily mean it was true.

Hannah picked up the phone and got the number for the shuttle service at the Minneapolis airport. There was only one shuttle that ran to Lake Eden and that made her job a little easier. She punched out the number of their airport office and rehearsed what she would say to get the information she needed. She’d picked up a new skill by listening to Andrea on the phone with the hotel clerk at the Buttermakers’ Convention. It was possible to get all sorts of information if the person on the other end of the line really wanted to help you.

“On-Time Shuttle Service. This is Tammi speaking.”

Hannah winced at the insipidly cheerful voice. Why did companies always hire girls who sounded as if they should be working at Disneyland? “Hi, Tammi. I really need your help. My boss, Mr. Woodley, took the shuttle to Lake Eden on Wednesday afternoon and he can’t find his briefcase. He asked me to try to locate it and I’m wondering if your driver happened to find it on the shuttle bus?”