Devil's Food Cake Murder (Hannah Swensen, #14)(70)

“Not personally, but he’s one of those one-toe-over-the-line guys.” When Hannah looked blank, Michelle went on. “He’s a wannabe crook, but not quite.”

“He skirts around the law?”

“Exactly. Lonnie’s Uncle Pat knew him pretty well. They went to Jordan High together.”

“Does Lonnie’s uncle live around here?”

Michelle shook her head. “He’s been in Chicago for years. The last time Lonnie visited him, they sat around talking for hours. It was Uncle Pat who said that Lenny’s always been a one-toe-over-the-line guy. I think we should talk to him.”

“Uncle Pat?”

“No, Lenny. We can always catch him at the Eagle.”

Hannah was surprised. Most people in Lake Eden knew that the Eagle, a backwoods bar and dance place, was a real dive. The last time Michelle had gone out there to do undercover work on a murder case, it had almost turned into a disaster. “Do you really want to go out to the Eagle again?” she asked.

“No, but that’s where Lenny works. You don’t want me to go undercover again, do you?”

“Absolutely not!”

“Okay, then let’s all go.”

“Who do you mean by all?”

“You, Andrea, and me. There’s strength in numbers and there’s no way I want to go out there alone again. How about tomorrow night?”

“That’s fine with me. I’ll check with Andrea in the morning, and see if she can go. But don’t mention it to Mother or she’ll want to go, too. And then we’ll have to look out for her.”

“Do you know how mad Mother would be if she heard you say that?”

“Oh, yes. I know.” Hannah turned to look at the ovens as the timer rang. “Is that yours? Or mine?”

“Yours. Your crust bakes only fifteen minutes. Then you cool it for five, put on the strawberry pie filling and the topping, and bake it for another thirty minutes. I read your recipe.”

“Okay. I’ll get my crust out. Tell me how long your Black Forest Brownies have to go and I’ll reset the timer.”

“You don’t have to. I’m keeping my eye on the clock. We always bake together when I come home, so I’ll run by the Red Owl tomorrow and pick up a second kitchen timer.”

“While you’re watching the clock, why don’t you call the Eagle and find out if Lenny’s working tomorrow night. It’d be a waste of time to drive all the way out there and find out he’s got the night off.”

Michelle reached for the phone on the wall. “Good idea. I’ll do it now. My bars still have fifteen minutes to go.”

Hannah’s crust had cooled the required five minutes, she’d finished assembling the cookie bars, and she was slipping them back into the oven by the time Michelle hung up the phone. “What took so long?” she asked.

“Lenny was in a private meeting in the office with someone, and the door was locked. They put me on hold until he came out.”

“Lenny has private meetings at the Eagle?”

“That’s what one of the waitresses said. She told me her name was Silky.”

“Do you think that’s a real name?”

“No. Waitresses at a dive like that don’t usually use their real names. They don’t want the customers to know anything personal about them.”

Hannah stared at her baby sister. “Should I ask you how you know that?”

“You can if you want to. One of my roommates worked in a bar for the summer, and they gave her a name tag with a fake name. Anyway, Silky said that Lenny started locking the office when he took over as manager, and he’s got the only key. On the nights he doesn’t work, they can’t open the door.”

“Really!” Hannah’s mind ran through the possibilities, taking Uncle Pat’s character assessment into account. “My bet is that he’s using it for something borderline illegal.”

“I’m sure you’re right. Silky also said that up to four months ago, the waitresses were going in and out to use the phone, but now nobody except Lenny can get in.”

“That makes me want to get a good look at that office when we go out there,” Hannah told her.

An hour passed with the two sisters baking, talking, and generally having a good time together. They’d finished six pans of cookie bars when Hannah decided it was time for them to get some sleep.

“You’d better turn in, Michelle. You have to get up early in the morning if you want to ride to town with me.”

“Sounds good.” Michelle stood up and gave Hannah a hug. “Goodnight, Hannah.”

“Goodnight, Michelle,” Hannah hugged her back. “I’ll turn in soon, and then …” Hannah stopped talking abruptly as the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it on my way to bed,” Michelle called out as she opened the door. “It’s probably Norman.”

“No, it’s probably Mike,” Mike said, stepping in. “Didn’t you look through the peephole?”

“It doesn’t do any good. Hello, Mike. Good to see you. And goodnight, Mike. I’m going to bed.”

“Goodnight, Michelle,” Mike said as she left the room, and then he turned to Hannah. “What’s the matter with your peephole?”