Devil's Food Cake Murder (Hannah Swensen, #14)(72)

“Good! I’m starving. What did you have in mind?” Hannah thought fast. She had a number of quickie meals in her repertoire, and her choice depended on the ingredients she had on hand. “How about Welsh Rarebit?”

“Sounds great!” Mike said, giving her the devilish grin that always made her heart beat faster. “What is it?”

“You say it sounds good, but you don’t know what it is?” “Yeah. And that’s because everything you make is good. Come on, Hannah…tell me what it is.”

“It’s like a puffy cheese sandwich with only one piece of bread. And I’ve got Strawberry Shortbread Bar Cookies for dessert.”

“Oh, boy! I guess I knocked on the right door tonight! Can I start with dessert?”

“Of course,” Hannah said, heading for the kitchen. “I’ll put on a fresh pot of coffee and bring out a platter of bar cookies for you to munch on. And then I’ll start the Welsh Rarebit. It only takes about fifteen minutes.”

“I’m in no hurry. I’ll just throw some mice for the big guy. He likes that, don’t you, Moishe?”

Hannah watched as her cat turned into a shameless sycophant, rubbing up against Mike’s legs and purring so loudly she could hear him from the kitchen doorway. Moishe adored Mike. It seemed that all animals adored Mike. She’d seen him with Herb’s pup, Dillon, and Mike knew exactly where to scratch his ears and which toys were his favorites. He was also really good with Norman’s cat, Cuddles. Mike was the type of guy that everybody’s pet loved.

Hannah had put on the coffee and she was setting the oven for the proper temperature when she happened to look at the top of the refrigerator. There was a sock ball leaning up against the ice bucket she almost never used.

“Oh, no! Not again!” she said, giving a heartfelt sigh. This was the fourth or fifth sock ball she’d found on top of the refrigerator and there was no way she’d dropped that many on her way from the laundry room to her bedroom. Either she was doing strange things in her sleep, or Moishe had somehow discovered how to open her sock drawer.

“Is there something wrong?” Mike asked, and Hannah turned to see him standing in the open kitchen doorway, a toy mouse in his hand. Moishe was right next to him, looking oh-so-ingenuous.

Hannah said nothing. She just pointed to the top of the refrigerator where the sock ball sat.

“Rolled up socks?” Mike asked her.

“That’s right. And I’m almost positive that I didn’t put that sock ball there.”

Mike turned to look at Moishe, who looked back up at him and started to purr. “You think he did?” Mike asked her.

“Yes, but I can’t figure out how he does it. I keep them in a drawer in the bedroom, and it sticks. It’s really hard to get open.”

“Let me see,” Mike said.

Hannah led the way to her bedroom and pointed to the drawer filled with similar sock balls. “Try to open it, and you’ll see what I mean,” she told him.

Mike grasped the handle and pulled. The drawer didn’t move. He pulled again, a bit harder, and it still didn’t budge. “It’s really sticking,” he said.

“I know. Sometimes if you jiggle and pull at the same time, it’ll come open.”

Mike did as she described and the drawer slid out reluctantly. “Moishe couldn’t have opened this. It’s a really heavy drawer,” he said.

“The dresser’s an antique, and they knew how to build them to last back then. Mother says it’s solid mahogany, the same as my bedstead.”

Mike turned to look at the bed and then he sighed deeply.

“What’s wrong?” Hannah asked.

“It’s your bed. It looks all soft, and comfortable, and warm, and…I’ve got to get out of here!”

Hannah laughed and grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the hallway. “I take it you haven’t had much sleep lately.”

“No, not much. Between that jewel robbery in the Cities, a couple of scams involving senior citizens, three stolen cars, and now the church murder case, I’ve been working doubles almost every day.”

“Well, take a nap on the couch while I make the Welsh Rarebit,” Hannah suggested. “They say that fifteen or twenty minutes of sleep can make a huge difference.”

“Oh, it’ll make a huge difference all right!” Mike said with a grin. “If I go to sleep, I’ll stay asleep, and you’ll have to drag me out the door in the morning.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Hannah said. “I’ll bring the coffee and you can start eating those bars. The sugar may give you a lift.”

As she arranged a tray for the coffee and put the cookie bars on a plate for Mike, Hannah thought about how she could parlay the information she’d gathered into something of value from Mike. She would tell him about Alice’s visit to the parsonage on Sunday night, but she’d make sure to say that Alice had an alibi. If Mike needed to substantiate that, he could talk to Digger the way they had. That exchange should earn her a piece of information about the official investigation from Mike. And if that worked out, she might even mention…no, she wouldn’t tell Mike about Lenny Peske and how he used to pal around with Paul, not until they’d had the chance to go out to the Eagle to question Lenny. If Mike got there first, it would take away the element of surprise, and surprise could give them the advantage. With the twists and turns this investigation was taking, they needed every advantage they could get.