Cream Puff Murder (Hannah Swensen, #11)(71)

Hannah retrieved her brownies from the cat-safe cooler in the back. “Can I use your stovetop? I didn’t have time to frost my dessert.”

“Of course. It’s as much your stovetop as it is my stovetop.”

Hannah smiled. She loved Norman’s stovetop. She’d chosen it when they’d entered the Dream House contest. It had been fun to design the ideal family home and choose appliances and furniture without even considering price. It had come as a total surprise when their dream house had won the contest. It had also come as a complete surprise when Norman had actually built their dream house and asked her to marry him!

There had been many times since then that she wished she’d said yes. But there had been just as many times she’d been glad she was still single. As Hannah followed Norman into the lovely dream house they’d designed together, she decided this was one of the “yes” times. And she was sure of it when she saw Moishe leap out of Norman’s arms and race off to play with Cuddles.

“So what did you bring for dessert?” Norman asked her.

“Bonnie Brownie Cookie Bars. All I have to do is frost them.”

“I’ve never heard of those before. Are they something new?”

Hannah laughed. “Yes. It’s a new recipe that owes its existence to the fact that I didn’t want to drive to the store.”

“So you substituted?”

“Exactly. That’s how great recipes are born. I was going to make peanut butter brownies, but I didn’t have any salted peanuts. I did have some butterscotch chips, so I made these instead.”

“What sort of pan do you need for the frosting?”

“Just a medium-sized saucepan. I brought all the ingredients with me.” Hannah gestured toward the small soft-sided cooler she’d carried in with her.

Norman got out the saucepan, and then he stepped behind Hannah and massaged her neck for a moment. “You look so tired. I’m going to be glad when we solve this case and you can get some sleep.”

“So am I!” Hannah said, turning to give him a hug. “I don’t think I’ve had more than six hours total since Ronni was killed.”

They stood there for a long moment. Hannah no longer felt like making the frosting. She wanted to cuddle up with Norman, and perhaps it wasn’t very romantic, but she wanted to go to sleep in the warmth of his arms. Or maybe that was romantic, especially in the true sense of the word. She really wasn’t sure, but she knew it would be pure heaven.

The doorbell rang, and Norman pulled away reluctantly. “I’d better get that. If you’re too tired to make the frosting, I’ve got powdered sugar in the pantry. We can just sprinkle some on top and serve your bar cookies that way.”

“Good idea!” Hannah answered gratefully.



“The only thing that’s good about this night is your egg salad,” Hannah said, rubbing her eyes. They’d fast-forwarded through six hours of tapes, and her eyelids felt like they were propped up with toothpicks. “You did write down the recipe, didn’t you, Norman?”

“Yes, but Cuddles helped me a little. She walked over the ink while it was still wet and made little cat tracks.”

Hannah laughed. She’d had similar experiences with Moishe. There was something about the point of a felt-tip pen that was fascinating to those of the feline persuasion. “Can I still read it?”

“Yes. I typed it up on the computer and printed it out for you.”

“Thanks, Norman.” Hannah snuggled a little deeper into the cushions of the couch in the den. Moishe and Cuddles were sleeping, curled up together, in the round kitty bed in front of the large-screen television set. “What time is it, anyway?”

“Almost ten. We’ve been at this for over three hours.”

“And we’ve gone through six hours. That means sixty hours of tape, fast-forwarded, roughly translates to thirty hours. Can you watch any more, Norman?”

“I don’t think so. I gave Doc Bennett six hours, Lisa and Herb took six hours, and Grandma McCann has six hours. If Michelle and Andrea have watched six hours apiece, that means we have twenty-four hours of tapes to go.”

“Is that like twenty-four bottles of beer on the wall?” Hannah asked, remembering the song they used to sing on the pep squad bus when she was in high school and they went to “away” basketball games.

“Yes, except it might be quicker to drink…never mind. It wasn’t a rational thought. Delores and Mom have a VCR down at Granny’s Attic. Maybe they’ll take turns watching tomorrow, and we can subtract another six hours.”

“Maybe, if they’re having a good night tonight.” Hannah stopped talking and frowned.

“What is it?”

“It’s crazy. They’re grown women, but I’m a little worried about them. I called Sally and asked about The Moosehead. There’s a hotel next door, and they’ve got a shuttle to the airport. I was thinking there might be some out-of-town salesmen and executives that stay there.”

“And you’re worried about our mothers?”

Hannah thought about that for a minute. “It’s not like it’s unfounded. Mother was crazy about Winthrop.”

“True.” Norman reached out and gave her a little hug. “Do you want to take a run to The Moosehead and see what’s going on?”