Devil's Food Cake Murder (Hannah Swensen, #14)(83)

“Mother!” Andrea was obviously shocked. “Bill doesn’t harass anyone! You know that’s not true!”

“Of course I do, but I was playing Trixie. And Trixie might have been harassed by the sheriff. Actually, you should be glad I said that, because Hub was very sympathetic and he tried to make Trixie feel better.”

Hannah was almost afraid to ask, but she did. “How did he do that, Mother?”

“He asked if Trixie knew about the trick somebody played on the sheriff a few months ago, calling him about a great job in Florida.”

“What did you say?”

“Trixie said she’d heard about it and she thought it was really funny. And then she added that she’d just love to meet the guy who did it.”

Andrea was all ears. “And he told you?”

“He told Trixie,” Delores corrected her. “Hub came right out and admitted that he was the one who thought up the dirty trick in the first place, and his son was the one who made the calls.”

“Good work, Mother!” Hannah complimented her. “Or should I say, good work, Trixie?”

“Mother is fine, dear.”

“I’d better tell Bill right away,” Andrea said, reaching in her purse for her cell phone.

Delores shook her head. “Oh no, you don’t. I’ll call Bill. I was the one who had to wear that ridiculous costume and pretend I was having a good time.”

Delores waited until Andrea dropped her cell phone back into her purse and then she turned to Michelle.

“And that reminds me,” she said to Michelle. “I want to know exactly how and where you learned that trick about leading with swinging elbows!”





Chapter Twenty-Seven

Morning came much too early for Hannah. They’d sat at Bertanelli’s for an hour unwinding, and then she’d come home to an answering machine flashing with the message light. When she’d played the message, she’d expected to hear her own voice giving the fake message to Norman, but the message had been from Norman himself, saying that he’d been planning to come over, but something had come up and he’d try to contact her tomorrow. That was it. No I love you, no I’m sorry, no I miss you. Nothing of a personal nature whatsoever.

Bleary-eyed and definitely not bushy-tailed, Hannah wrapped herself in her old robe. She turned to look for her live-in feline, but Moishe wasn’t moving. He was nestled in the center of the expensive down-filled pillow she’d bought to keep him from stealing hers, and his tail didn’t even flicker when she called his name.

“Lazy,” Hannah said to the cat who was snoring softly, but she didn’t have the heart to wake him. Then she padded down the carpeted hallway, too tired to look for her slippers. She couldn’t blame Moishe for staying in bed. No one should have to get up when it was still dark outside. When she reached the kitchen, she reached out to flick on the lights, but the lights were already on.

There was Michelle, sitting at her kitchen table, looking much more awake and pretty than anyone had the right to look at this hour of the morning. Hannah couldn’t help it. She growled.

“What was that?” Michelle asked.

“Jealousy. Is there coffee?”

“Yes, but you’re not getting any. Go back to bed and I’ll reset the pot. Lisa doesn’t want you to come in before ten this morning. She says you have to get some sleep so your mind’s a steel trap.”

“But…how will you get to The Cookie Jar?”

“I’ve got Mother’s car, remember?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Hannah vaguely remembered Delores saying that Michelle could use her car as long as she returned the costume to the shop at the mall.

“Go back to bed before you wake up,” Michelle said, standing up, turning Hannah around, and giving her a gentle shove in the right direction. “Moishe’s waiting for you.”

Hannah went back to bed. She crawled in next to her softly snoring cat and shut her eyes. And she didn’t open them again until the bright sun streaming in her bedroom window woke her at nine-fifteen.

Sleep was a wonder drug. Hannah was convinced. She even hummed a little tune as she loaded the shelves of her industrial oven with cookies. She set the timer, sat down at the workstation, and sipped her coffee gratefully. Lisa was the best partner in the world.

“Oh, good!” Lisa said, coming in through the swinging door from the coffee shop. “You made Molasses Crackles.”

“Plus Almond Kisses, Lisa’s Pieces, and Red Velvet Cookies. I’m making Mocha Nut Butterballs next.”

“Perfect,” Lisa refilled the empty display cookie jar she was holding from the cookies on the baker’s rack and turned to go. “How about a couple of pans of Blonde Brownies? Do you have time to make those?”

“I’ve got nothing but time. Thanks to you, I got enough sleep and now …” Hannah stopped speaking as the phone rang. “I’ll get it.”

Lisa left and Hannah grabbed the wall phone. “The Cookie Jar. This is Hannah speaking,” she answered.

“Hannah! I’m so glad you answered!”

“Grandma Knudson?” Hannah asked, recognizing her friend’s voice despite the fact that it was quavering. “Is there something wrong?”

“Yes! I just don’t know what to do, Hannah. I’m filled with doubt.”