Cream Puff Murder (Hannah Swensen, #11)(76)

“Hannah?”

It was Norman again, and Hannah opened her eyes. She must have nodded off. “Yes.”

“You’re too tired to drive home tonight.”

He was right. She was. But propriety must be observed. “Can’t,” she said, forcing her tired mind to work again. “You’re here alone. What would people think?”

“Do you care?” Norman asked her.

“Yes. Maybe”

“How much do you care, Hannah?”

“Not enough,” Hannah said and let him escort her into the house and up the stairs. They stopped at the doorway to the master bedroom.

“You take the master,” Norman said. “I’ll sleep in the guest room.”

“But it’s your bedroom.”

“It’s our bedroom, but I don’t think you’re up to discussing that now. Here’s a sleep shirt. Go put it on.” Norman handed her a folded bundle of clothing and pushed her off toward the master bathroom. “While you’re changing, I’ll light a fire and turn down the covers for you.”

Her limbs felt like lead, but somehow she managed to get out of her clothes and into the red flannel sleep shirt. Red was her favorite color and it was brand-new. Even though her brain felt like overcooked oatmeal and she was too tired to figure anything out, she knew that he’d bought it for her.

She opened the bathroom door, wondering what would await her, and found Norman sitting on the side of the bed. “Climb in and get warm, Hannah,” he invited, patting the blankets. “I’ll go get the cats.”

“Cats,” Hannah said, slipping under the eiderdown coverlet and resting her head against the most comfortable feather pillow she’d ever encountered. The fire flickered, its light was golden, and the room was exactly the right temperature.

“Here you are, Big Guy,” Norman’s voice was soft as he brought the two cats into the room. “Go ahead, Cuddles. You can sleep with Hannah, too.”

There was a thump as Moishe landed and padded up to lick her cheek. A second later, there was another thump, a less heavy one, and Hannah heard Cuddles start to purr. As she drifted off to sleep, Hannah knew that life was good and everything was almost perfect.





Chapter Twenty-Six




She was sleeping on a cloud, and it was incredibly soft and fluffy. That meant it was a dream cloud, not a real cloud. Real clouds were cold and damp, a thick mist that glommed together in a semi-amorphous shape to hang in the air above people’s heads. She’d learned that in grade school science, but it was so contrary to the image clouds presented from the ground that she’d chosen to ignore the fact and embrace the misconception.

She was awake…almost. Hannah rolled over and dislodged the cat who’d been sleeping next to her on the pillow.

Cuddles. And Moishe was right next to Cuddles on the neighboring pillow. But what was Cuddles doing in her bed?

Not her bed. And these were not her pillows. She had two expensive goose down pillows on her bed, and this bed had four. It also had an eiderdown coverlet, something she’d priced but couldn’t afford.

Not her room. Hannah realized that the window was in the wrong place. And so was the door to the bathroom. And the fireplace…the fireplace!

Hannah sat up with a gasp. She was in Norman’s bedroom! She blinked, concentrated, and tried to remember what had happened the previous night. It was just starting to come back to her when she realized that there was a border of sunlight around the heavy curtains at the window.

What time was it?! Hannah glanced at the clock on the bedside table and gave a loud groan. Eight o’clock. Too late to meet Andrea at Heavenly Bodies. Too late for Roger’s Body Sculpting Class. She’d overslept by almost four hours, and she had to go home right away!

One step inside the luxurious master bathroom and Hannah changed her mind. Perhaps she didn’t have to go home immediately. Ever since they’d designed this wonderful room, she’d wanted to try out the surround shower. It had jets on all four walls, and it was reputed to be the closest thing to a massage you could get without a masseuse.

Two fluffy red towels awaited her on the warming rack. The letter H in a flowing script was embroidered on each towel, and Hannah gave another little groan. Towels with her monogram. When Norman had built this house, he really had planned for her to share it with him.

No time for regrets now. She had to take a shower and get on the road. Norman was probably gone already, and she had to take Moishe home and change clothes before she could show up at The Cookie Jar.

The shower was heavenly, and Hannah took longer than she knew she should. She stood in the center of the enclosure on the sunburst made out of multicolored tile to get the full benefit of the massaging jets.

“Incredible,” Hannah breathed, letting the water wash her exhaustion away. She started to feel halfway human, and then fully human, and then so good that she smiled and hummed a little tune.

She really didn’t want to get out, but she did. She could have stayed in the rejuvenating enclosure all day. But there were places to go, people to interview, tapes to watch, and killers to catch. Hannah toweled off, delighting in the thick richness of the towels, and then she dressed quickly, brushed her teeth with the new toothbrush Norman had left for her on the counter, and brushed her hair with a brush that was a clone of the one she had at home.