Cinnamon Roll Murder (Hannah Swensen, #15)(7)

“Were?” Lisa asked, carrying the puppy to Dillon’s dog bed, tucking the blanket more securely around him. She opened a can of dog food, put some into a bowl, stirred in some chicken broth to thin it, and heated it in the microwave. “So does he belong to anybody?”

“No. That’s why they were going to take him to the shelter. And when they told me that, I said I’d take him. I don’t know why I did that. I have no idea if he’ll get along with Moishe. And even if he does, he’ll be alone all day in the condo while I’m at work. And since I’m on the second floor, I can’t even have a doggy door.”

“I have a doggy door,” Lisa said, stirring the bowl of warm food and picking up the puppy again. She nestled the little guy in her lap, dipped her finger in the bowl of food, and let him lick it.

“I know you have a doggy door, but I didn’t come here to ask you to take me off the hook. I can try it and see how it goes. I just need you to babysit while I take some of the accident victims to the hospital to get checked out.”

“Okay, I can do that. But I’m serious, Hannah. I can take him. We only have one dog and we’ve been talking about getting another one. When you have two, they’re company for each other.”

“But will a dog this little get along with Dillon?”

“Of course he will. Dillon loves other dogs and he’s crazy about puppies. He’ll adopt this little one in no time flat.”

“Well ... I don’t want you to feel you have to take him.”

“I don’t feel I have to. I want to take him. Dillon’s always with Herb. He rides in the squad car with him and he goes on rounds. They’re practically inseparable. Dillon loves me. I know he does. But Herb trained him and spent more time with him than I did. Dillon’s really Herb’s dog, and I’d like a dog of my own. This little guy could be my dog.”

“Well ...”

“Come on, Hannah. The only reason you said you’d take him is you felt sorry for him. And now you’re having second thoughts and ...” Lisa stopped talking and narrowed her eyes. “You figured I’d take him right from the start, didn’t you!”

“Who, me?” Hannah put on her most innocent expression.

“Yes, you. You knew I’d take him, and that’s why you said that you would. And you brought him over here so I’d fall in love with him and keep him. Don’t deny it, Hannah. We’ve been partners for almost three years and I know you.”

“Okay. Maybe I had you in mind. You did say you wanted a dog that was all your own. And this little guy is so small, we could keep him down at The Cookie Jar during the daytime.”

“How about the health regulations?”

“Your husband is in law enforcement. Police dogs are in the same category as service dogs. You know the rules. Service dogs can go into places that normally don’t allow dogs.”

“But Sammy isn’t a police dog or a service dog.”

She’d named him already! Hannah felt almost giddy with success. “Sammy could be a service dog in training. Why did you name him Sammy anyway?”

“It’s his markings. He looks like he’s wearing a little Sam Browne belt. Are you sure I can bring him to work?”

“I’m sure. All we need is a crate for when we’re super busy, a bed and some toys, and a leash and harness for when he wants to visit in the coffee shop.”

“You had this all planned out, didn’t you?”

“No, at least not everything. I was just hoping, that’s all. So do you think it’ll work?”

Lisa glanced down at little Sammy. He’d finished most of the food and fallen asleep snuggled in her arms. “Oh, yes,” she said, giving a happy smile. “It’ll work just fine.”





When Hannah pulled up by the emergency entrance to Lake Eden Memorial Hospital, she was met by Freddy Sawyer, who had been pressed into service as an orderly, and Marlene Aldrich, one of Doc Knight’s interns.

“Ben’s inside running triage,” Marlene said, motioning for Freddy to help the two couples out of the back of Hannah’s cookie truck. “Any serious injuries, Hannah?”

“A possible concussion, a cut that may need stitches, and bumps, scrapes, and bruises. Nothing life threatening. The most serious is Buddy Neiman.” Hannah watched as Freddy carefully helped Buddy down from the cookie truck. “He plays keyboards with the Cinnamon Roll Six, the jazz band. Their band bus went into the ditch. Buddy hurt his wrist and we’re hoping it’s not broken.”

Marlene inspected Buddy’s splint and gave a quick nod. “It’s fine for now. Get your whole group settled in the waiting room, and I’ll come to take Buddy to X-ray myself.”

“I’ll get everyone settled,” Michelle said, and led the little group away. As soon as they were out of earshot, Marlene turned to Hannah. “I heard them play at Club Nineteen in the Cities, and Buddy was terrific. The whole band was terrific. Are any of the rest of them injured?”

“Just Buddy. Someone else is bringing the rest of them in. Is there anything I can do to help out, Marlene?”

“Just get your group coffee, or something to eat if they’re hungry. The kitchen’s closed, but the vending machines in the lobby have sandwiches and fruit, and things like that. We’ll be by to check out your people just as soon as we can.”