Cream Puff Murder (Hannah Swensen, #11)(43)

“That must be the batch of Candy Bar Bar Cookies I have in the oven. I’m glad you brought in that recipe, Lisa. They’re really good.”

“I know. I got it from my Aunt Lois Meister. She spends every Saturday baking with her best friend, Marcia, and they come up with some real winners.”

“Well, let me know if you get any more from them.” Hannah glanced at the kitchen clock and frowned. “It’s only three thirty, and it’s awfully quiet out there.”

“That’s because we’re closed.”

“You closed early?”

“I had to. We ran completely out of cookies.”

“But we baked extra cookies. There were two batches of Terry’s Carrot Cake Cookies and three double batches of Boggles.”

“And every cookie sold.” Lisa gave Hannah a proud smile. “We made more profit today than we usually make in a week.”

“Then that means we can take the rest of the week off,” Hannah said and waited for Lisa’s reaction. When it came, it was worth the wait. Lisa looked absolutely horrified by Hannah’s disregard for their work ethic.

“Just kidding,” Hannah was quick to reassure her. “Do you think tomorrow’s going to be busy?”

“It won’t be quite as busy as today, but it’ll be busier than usual, especially if you let me tell another story that’s straight from your mouth to mine.”

It seemed that Lisa had discovered a second career, and Hannah wasn’t about to thwart her. “Okay. I told you everything I know. You come up with something tonight and call me before I leave for the gym in the morning. As long as it’s not an outright lie or something the sheriff’s department asked me to keep quiet, you’re welcome to tell it to everybody who comes in the door.”



Evening came early in November. At five thirty on the dot, Hannah flicked off the lights on her cookie truck, locked the doors behind her, and hurried up the stairs to her condo, eager for warmth and light. She inserted her key in the lock, dropped her purse to the floor, and held out her arms as she pushed the door open.

She was not disappointed. An orange-and-white furry ball hurtled into her arms, sending her back two steps. It might have knocked her over if she hadn’t been standing with her feet braced apart, but Hannah was well acquainted with Moishe’s coming-home ritual. She picked up her purse, carried him inside, and placed him in his favorite position on the back of the couch.

“So you’re glad to see me tonight?” she asked him.

“Rowww!”

“And it’s not just because you know I’m going to give you one of your favorite treats?”

“Rowww!”

She laughed and scratched him under the chin. Hannah loved the way Moishe answered every question she asked him. She’d counted once, just to see how long he would keep it up. His record was almost forty answers to her questions. “Hold on a second. I’ll get something for you.”

Hannah headed to the kitchen to fetch the round canister of fish-shaped, salmon-flavored kitty treats. Once Moishe was munching on one and another two sat on the edge of the couch in easy paw reach, Hannah hung up her parka, switched on a few more lights, kicked off her shoes, and carried them back to her bedroom to change into something more comfortable.

It didn’t take long to slip into gray sweatpants and a green sweatshirt. She pulled on fleece-lined moccasins and padded back to the kitchen. She had just enough time to feed Moishe, bake another batch of Candy Bar Bar Cookies in her home oven for dessert, and set the round table in the living room with plates, glasses, silverware, and napkins for her sisters and Norman.

“You ate all your food again?” Hannah stared at Moishe’s Kitty Valet in disbelief. There was plenty of water left, but the food was all gone. She turned to watch her gluttonous gato as he strolled into the kitchen, but he didn’t seem appreciably larger, his stomach wasn’t distended, and he didn’t look uncomfortable. How could he chow down on twelve cups of kitty crunchies and look perfectly normal?

“Not now,” Hannah said, coming to a decision out loud. She just wasn’t going to worry about her feline food lover tonight. She’d refill Moishe’s Kitty Valet, bake the dessert she planned to serve to her company, and settle down on the couch with something to drink until her guests arrived.

By six fifteen, the bar cookies were in the oven and she was sitting on the couch, her feet tucked up under her, sipping a cup of coffee. If she’d been a drinker, it would have been a double Scotch on the rocks. If she hadn’t been on a diet, it would have been hot chocolate. As it was, coffee was the only noncaloric hot beverage she could think of to drink…unless she wanted to count tea. And she didn’t.

Moishe hopped onto the seat of the couch and snuggled up against her legs. Hannah reached out to pet him and sighed in contentment. It was good to be home. It had been a very long day, starting with the gruesome discovery of Ronni’s body in the Jacuzzi and ending with the heavier than usual preparations for tomorrow’s baking.

A cat’s purr was soporific. Hannah had heard that before, and it was true. She yawned widely, closed her eyes, and stroked Moishe’s soft fur. In a moment she was asleep, dreaming of walks in the North Woods with her great-grandmother, the deer they’d seen leaping in the distance, the birds flitting from branch to branch, beeping cheerily. Beeping? Birds didn’t beep!