Fudge Cupcake Murder (Hannah Swensen, #5)(2)

Hannah bent over the paper for a closer look at the small box Rod Metcalf had been running in the paper for the past month. Then she let out a whoop of excitement. "Bill's running neck and neck with Sheriff Grant!"

"That's right! I told him we could do it! Of course the election's still two weeks away and anything can happen, but wouldn't it be wonderful if Bill actually won?"

"Absolutely! You've done a wonderful job running his campaign, Andrea."

"Thanks. I've got some other news, too."

"What's that?"

"Doc Knight moved up my due date to the third week in November."

Hannah frowned. "Can he do that?"

"Sure. It's all guesswork, anyway. Everybody thinks they can tell, but they can't. Bill's mother says she's sure the baby will be born on election night, but I think she just wants to take my place at Bill's victory party. Mother's holding out for early December. She says I'm not as big as I was with Tracey and it'll be a while yet. Then there's Bill. He thinks I'll have the baby early, like before Halloween."

"When do you think it'll be?"

"On Thanksgiving Day, just as we're sitting down to dessert."

"How can you tell?" Hannah asked. "Is there some sort of sixth sense that expectant mothers have?"

"No, it's just that your pecan pie is my favorite part of Thanksgiving dinner. And I'm looking forward to it so much, I just know I'm going to miss it."

"You won't miss it. If you have to go to the hospital, I'll bake another pie and bring it to you."

"That's so sweet! Thanks, Hannah. I'd better run… or maybe I should say waddle. My balance is off today. I'll check in with you later."

Hannah said goodbye and hung up the phone. She refilled Moishe's water and told him what a good boy he was. And since he appeared to be eating his senior fare without a problem, she crumpled up the tip sheet Doctor Bob had given her and tossed it in the trash. Then she pulled on her gloves and headed out the door.

An icy wind greeted Hannah as she stepped outside, and she shivered as she descended the stairs to the ground floor. It was only the middle of October, but it was time to think about resurrecting her winter parka. Once she'd gone down another flight of stairs to the underground garage, Hannah headed straight for her candy apple red Suburban, the vehicle all the Lake Eden children called the "cookie truck," climbed in behind the wheel, started it up, and headed up the ramp toward the exit.

Hannah drove through her condo complex, turned left on Old Lake Road, and took the scenic route to town. Its circuitous course wound around Eden Lake and although it was longer than the interstate by several miles, Hannah preferred it. There was something soothing about driving past Minnesota family farms and groves of maple trees sporting colorful fall leaves. She preferred the scent of cool water and aromatic pine to the exhaust from whatever car she happened to be following on the interstate.

As Hannah waited for the stoplight at the intersection of Old Lake Road and Dairy Avenue, she spotted a perfect telephone pole. Since there was no one behind her, she pulled over at the side of the road and retrieved one of Bill's posters from the back of her truck. It only took a moment to tack it up on the pole and Hannah grinned as she stepped back and faced the larger than life-size picture of her brother-in-law's smiling face. The poster bore the legend "Bill Todd for Sheriff" in large block letters and Hannah had promised Andrea that she'd put up at least six posters every day.

Ten minutes later, Hannah pulled into the alley and turned in at the small white building that housed her bakery and cookie shop. Once she'd parked in her spot and gone in the back door, she washed her hands and went through the swinging restaurant-style door into the coffee shop, prepared to relieve her young partner, Lisa Herman. She found Lisa on a tall stool behind the counter, surrounded by a crowd of morning cookie buyers.

"Here she is now!" Lisa called out, looking very relieved to see Hannah. "You can ask her yourself."

The crowd swiveled toward Hannah and she noticed that Bertie Straub had stationed herself in front as the point man. Bertie was still wearing her bright purple smock from the Cut 'n Curl and the scowl on her face inversely mirrored the gold happy face on the bib of the smock.

"Well, it's about time!" Bertie said, glancing pointedly at her watch. "We saw that Bill's ahead in the polls. Do you honestly think he's going to win?"

"Of course Bill's going to win!" It was her mother's voice. Hannah turned toward the doorway to see Delores standing there, resplendent in a fashionable royal blue pantsuit and sporting a "Bill Todd for Sheriff" button on her collar. "And if you don't vote for him, Bertie Straub, you'll have to deal with me!"

Bertie gave an audible gulp. "I'm going to vote for him, Delores."

"I should hope so!" Delores walked over to take Hannah's arm. "I need to see you in the kitchen, dear."

Moments later, Hannah's mother was settled at the workstation with a cup of coffee and two Peanut Butter Melts. Hannah sat down on an adjoining stool and waited patiently while Delores ate one cookie in dainty bites.

"Delicious!" her mother declared, wiping her hands on a napkin. "Have you heard from Norman?"