Devil's Food Cake Murder (Hannah Swensen, #14)(69)

“Is he waiting for us?”

“I doubt it. He’s with Doctor Bev.”

At first all Hannah felt was shock, but then her spirits sank to a new low. “Then the dental emergency was just an excuse to break free from me so he could take Doctor Bev to dinner.”

“Don’t jump to conclusions, Hannah. If you turn around, you’ll be able to see Norman through the greenery.”

“I don’t want to see him!”

“Oh, I think you do. It’s pretty obvious that Norman doesn’t want to be here.”

“Really?”

“Really. Just turn your head and look. You’ll see what I mean.”

Hannah turned around. It was just as Michelle had said. There was Norman at a table for two in the middle of the dining room, and Doctor Bev was with him. She was facing away so all Hannah could see was the back of her head and her expensive haircut, but Norman was facing them and he didn’t look at all happy. “He looks…upset,” she said.

“Yes, he does. I think he looks just as upset as he did when he got the phone call about the dental emergency.”

“The fake dental emergency,” Hannah corrected her. “It was probably her.”

The two sisters watched for a moment, and then Michelle said, “Look! She must have said something Norman didn’t like at all. Now he looks irritated.”

“He looked irritated on the phone this afternoon, too.”

“They’re arguing about something,” Michelle said. “Look how he’s clenching his hand. That breadstick he’s holding is going to be nothing but crumbs in a couple of seconds. She’s reaching for his other hand to try to calm him down.”

Hannah narrowed her eyes. “It’s not going to work. He just pulled his hand back, and he’s scowling.”

“Maybe it’s the light, but Norman’s face looks red.”

“It’s not the light,” Hannah told her. “Norman’s face is red. He’s angry, very angry.”

“Furious. Have you ever seen Norman look this mad before?”

“Never. Norman isn’t the type to fly off the handle. It just isn’t like him.”

“Then she must have pushed him to the bitter end about something,” Michelle commented.

“I wonder what she’s doing now. She just picked up a napkin and she’s holding it up to her face.”

“Crocodile tears,” Michelle informed her. “Either that, or she’s actually crying. There’s a girl in my drama class who can cry on command. That’s really useful when you’re an actress.”

“Well, it’s coming in handy for lady dentists, too. Norman just reached out for her hand.”

Michelle gave a little sigh. “You can’t blame him for that. There are some guys who just can’t stand to see a woman cry. I’ll bet Norman’s like that.”

Hannah gave a little shrug. “I’m not sure. Actually I’m not sure about a lot of things now. Norman says he loves me, but this doesn’t look good. And Mike says he loves me, but that’ll probably change when he finds out I’m working on his murder case. Maybe neither one of them loves me!”

Michelle motioned for their waitress and pulled out her wallet. “Maybe money can’t buy you love, but it’ll buy you chocolate. And that’s almost the same thing. I’m going to order a double fudge brownie delight for both of us to go.”

“To go? But we can’t leave yet. We’ll have to walk right past them, and I don’t want to do that.”

Michelle started to grin. “Afraid you’ll kill her?”

“Of course not! But there may be much too much ketchup and mustard in her future.”

This time a grin wasn’t enough for Michelle. She started to laugh. “I wouldn’t blame you. Follow me, Hannah. We can stand in the kitchen to wait for our takeout and then we’ll go out the back way. We can sneak back in the front door to get our coats and boots.”

Hannah considered that for a moment. “But don’t you think that’s the coward’s way out?”

“No, it’s the cheapest way out. The dry cleaners will charge you a fortune to get the ketchup and mustard stains out of her white cashmere sweater.”

“Better?” Michelle asked, after they’d polished off their double fudge brownie delights.

“Much better. Thanks, Michelle. I was really upset when I listened to that message from Norman, saying he was still tied up with his so-called dental emergency.”

“I know,” Michelle commiserated. “Did you remember to print out those recipes for me? I can make a couple of pans of cookie bars tonight.”

“I remembered,” Hannah said, walking over to her desk to pick up some papers and handing them to Michelle. “I have three bar recipes and a drop cookie recipe.”

“Great! Let’s bake together. That’ll make both of us feel good. Where shall we start?”

“You can do Black Forest Brownies, and I’ll do Strawberry Shortbread Bar Cookies.”

For ten minutes the only conversation in Hannah’s kitchen consisted of questions like, “Will you please hand me the sugar?” or “Where do you keep your heavy-duty aluminum foil?”

Both ovens, upper and lower, were set for the correct temperatures, and Michelle and Hannah didn’t sit down again until two pans of bar cookies were in each oven. Then Hannah put on the coffee pot and joined her sister at the kitchen table. “You know Lenny Peske, don’t you?”