Chocolate Cream Pie Murder (Hannah Swensen #24)(48)

“What are you doing? Are you crazy? You’re ruining my life! Get another apricot, Hannah. Pick another one right now! I need at least another dozen, maybe more.”

“I . . . I can’t,” she said, tears forming in her eyes. How could she cry when she was so thirsty? It was impossible, but tears were rolling down her cheeks. And then she was sobbing as she reached up to get another apricot and place it in the bushel basket.

“Hurry! We don’t have much time!” he ordered. “Faster! Pick faster! How can you pick so slowly when I love you a bushel and a peck.”

And that was when Ross started to sing an old song that her great-grandmother used to sing to her. I love you a bushel and a peck, a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck. A hug around the neck and a barrel and a heap. A barrel and a heap and I’m talking in my sleep. About you, about you.

“Great-grandma Elsa used to sing that to me,” she told him.

“I know. She taught it to me.”

“But . . . how could she have taught it to you? She died when I was only six years old!”

“That’s probably true, but she’s here right now. Say hello to your great-grandmother, Hannah.”

Hannah looked down at Ross, who was standing by the trunk of the tree. And her great-grandmother was standing right next to him!

“Gigi!” Hannah used her nickname for her great-grandmother. “How did you get here?”

“He came to get me. Be very careful, Hannah. Don’t believe a word he says. He’s a liar and a con man.”

“Hush!” Ross shouted, pushing Hannah’s great-grandmother to the ground. “Go back where you came from!”

“No!” Hannah screamed. “Stay with me, Gigi! I need you! Please stay with me!”

Ross waved his hand and Hannah’s great-grandmother disappeared. Then he turned to give her an icy cold smile. “She’s gone and that’s your punishment, Hannah. Now you’ll never see her again and it’s all because you didn’t fill the bushel basket with apricots. If you want me to change my mind, you’d better pick more now. And hurry!”

“But . . . I can’t pick any more apricots! There aren’t any more,” she said, staring up at the bare, fruitless branches above her. “I picked them all, Ross.”

“No, you didn’t. There were more on that tree and I know it. What did you do? Eat them?”

“No! Just that one, Ross. I only ate one. And it was because I was so thirsty.”

“That one apricot would have convinced him to give me the money. You killed me, Hannah! It’s all your fault! You killed me and all you care about is yourself!”

She could feel herself slipping, beginning to fall as his words shot arrows through her mind. He hated her now and there was nothing she could do to convince him to love her again. It was too late. She’d missed the boat and now she was missing the ladder, falling down to the bed and grabbing the pillow to try to break her fall.

She might have screamed then. She wasn’t sure. But she must have made a sound because Moishe gave a startled yowl, scrambled to his feet, and raced to the foot of the bed as if the demons of hell were chasing him.

“Wha . . . ?” Hannah half-formed a question as she sat up and tried to catch her breath. And then she got out of bed and hurried to the bathroom because she suddenly felt so thirsty, she could barely stand it. Perhaps she shouldn’t have had Sally’s freshly baked salted pretzel appetizer at the Lake Eden Inn last night. She’d dipped Sally’s delicious pretzels in Kalamata olive aioli and that had been salty, too. She’d consumed more salt than she usually did, and that must be why she was so thirsty this morning.

But was it morning? Hannah came out of the bathroom clutching a half-empty glass of water. It was still dark outside the window, but that told her nothing about the time of day. It was February in Minnesota and daylight didn’t come until after seven in the morning. It could be six-thirty and that meant she was late to work. Or it could be ten or eleven-thirty at night.

There was only one way to find out what time it was and Hannah checked her alarm clock. And that was when she discovered that it was thirty minutes past the time she usually got out of bed. That meant she’d slept through the whole night without waking once. Perhaps Mike had been right when he’d recommended delicious food, good wine, and sleep. Sleep was a great cure for anxiety . . . unless you woke up with a nightmare. Now that she’d assuaged her thirst, she felt much better. She also felt safe because Mike was sleeping on the couch in her living room. She’d slept so deeply, she hadn’t even roused when her alarm had begun its irritating electronic beeping. Or had her alarm beeped at all? She might have been so tired, she’d forgotten to set it last night. Either that, or Michelle had come into her bedroom and turned it off to let her sleep longer.

There was a delicious scent in the air and Hannah began to smile. Michelle was up and she was baking. It took Hannah a moment to recognize the scent, and then she laughed.

“Apricot!” she said, leaning down to pet Moishe. “Michelle’s baking something with apricots.” And the moment she identified the scent, she remembered the strange dream she’d had. She must have smelled the scent in her sleep and spun the story of her dream.

“Let’s get up, Moishe,” she said, interrupting his morning stretch. “I’ll take a quick shower and we’ll go find out what Michelle has made for our breakfast.”