Cream Puff Murder (Hannah Swensen, #11)(25)

“Weird,” Hannah mumbled, opening her eyes. But once she’d glanced at her radio alarm, she realized that it wasn’t as strange as it had seemed at first. Instead of pushing the button for alarm, she’d hit the button for wakeup music, and the local classical music station was playing Strauss.

Hannah reached out to shut off the alarm before electronic beeping rudely interrupted “The Blue Danube Waltz.” At least she tried to reach out to shut it off, but a bolt of pain that had her gasping for breath shot up from her wrist and found a home in her shoulder.

“Must have slept wrong,” Hannah mumbled, turning on her side and attempting to reach out with her other arm. But that arm hurt almost as much as the first one had! Was she having a heart attack? What were the symptoms? Pain…yes, one of the symptoms was pain. She remembered Hank Olson, the bartender at the municipal liquor store, telling them about the symptoms of his heart attack. She definitely had shooting pains going up both arms, but if she recalled Hank’s description correctly, his arm pains had reached all the way to the center of his chest, squeezing and constricting like a steel band.

Not a heart attack, then. Her chest felt fine, not squeezed at all, and she wasn’t light-headed, sweaty, or nauseated. But something was definitely wrong. Every time she moved, she hurt. Had she contracted some dreadful disease that would render her paralyzed and helpless in her bed?

Michelle would cry when she learned of her terrible malady. Hannah was sure of that. Michelle loved her. And Mother did too…but in her own way. Delores would be a trifle put out that Hannah couldn’t cater her book launch party, but she’d do the right thing. She’d arrive at her eldest daughter’s bedside, appropriately dressed of course, and lay a cool hand on Hannah’s fevered brow. If only I’d ordered a larger dress size, she’d sob into a lace-edged handkerchief. Dear, dear Hannah starved herself until her immune system collapsed to try to please me!

No, Mother, Andrea would contradict her, her voice quavering with emotion. Immune systems don’t go down in a day and a half. She must have picked up some virus at Heavenly Bodies, and that means it’s all my fault. I talked her into going out there with me, and it was just too much for her. You can’t take an overweight person who’s never exercised and expect miracles to…

Hannah wasted no time cutting off Andrea’s imaginary conversation, since it wasn’t at all flattering. A dying woman didn’t need criticism about her weight and lifestyle. She wanted sympathy, appreciation for what she’d accomplished, a few sterling accolades. But something Andrea had said struck a familiar chord, something about never exercising and…

If you’re not in the habit of exercising regularly, some of you may wake up stiff and sore in the morning. Roger, their fitness instructor, had addressed the whole class, but he’d been looking straight at her. If that happens, simply stretch your arms and legs gently until you feel more comfortable.

Hannah sighed and met the gaze of the cat who sat on the pillow next to her head. Perhaps it was her imagination, but she thought he looked worried. “It’s okay, I’m just stiff and sore. I can get your breakfast, no problem.”

The gaze never wavered, but Moishe moved closer. He inched over until he was near enough to rub his head against Hannah’s face, and his rough tongue shot out to lick her chin.

“I love your kitty kisses,” Hannah said, reveling in the unaccustomed display of affection from her feline roommate. “That’s so sweet. Just let me stretch first, and then I’ll get you something you’ll like.”

She tackled her arms first, raising them slowly and painfully above her head. She brought them down again, very slowly, and gave a sigh of relief. Stretching hurt, but it hadn’t killed her. She stretched her arms again, very slowly, and it didn’t hurt quite so much. Perhaps there was something to this after all!

Her legs were next. She carefully bent, extended, pointed her toes at the ceiling and then relaxed. The first time was agony, but after four stretches per leg, she felt capable of getting out of bed.

The rest was easy, especially since Moishe followed along at her heels, batting at the hem of her robe. In her efforts to stay ahead of him, she must have been stretching out what was supposed to be stretched, because by the time she arrived at the kitchen, she felt almost human again.

Garfield’s face grinned up at her from the bottom of Moishe’s food bowl. He’d eaten it all during the night and she had just turned toward the broom closet to fill it up again, when she remembered that the instructions on the Kitty Valet had said to let your pet empty his old bowl once and then put it away so that he would switch to the new, improved feeder.

“Here you go, Moishe,” Hannah said, picking up the Garfield bowl and hedging her bets by tossing a few fish-shaped salmon-flavored kitty treats into the Kitty Valet bowl. “That’s your new bowl. Try it, you’ll like it.”

Never one to turn down his favorite treat, Moishe approached the bowl with the feed tube and extracted one fishy treat with a well-placed claw. Once that was gone, he extracted another and, as Hannah watched in amazement, he started to chow down on the kitty crunchies in the bowl.

“You like it!” Hannah said, pouring herself a life-giving mug of coffee from the pot that brewed automatically every morning, and then grabbing the phone to punch in the sheriff’s department number. Mike would be pleased when she told him that Moishe was using his gift. When the desk sergeant answered, she asked for Mike’s extension and waited until he picked up.