Fudge Cupcake Murder (Hannah Swensen, #5)(90)

"Do you want to go back for your boots?" Norman asked. "There could be snow on the ground before the party's over."

"Not really," Hannah said, glancing down at her shoes. Even if she'd owned a pair of dress boots, they wouldn't have looked good with her dress.

"She doesn't need boots," Mike declared, motioning to Norman. "Excuse us for a second, Hannah. We have to work out some logistics."

Hannah stared after Mike in some confusion as he pulled Norman a few feet away and spoke to him in a low voice. But the night was too beautiful to spend staring at two men discussing something or other, and she watched the snowflakes instead.

Even though there had been the predictable uproar at Ted Koester's arrest, things had calmed down quite rapidly. Beatrice was cleared of any wrongdoing regarding the chop shop and stolen car ring, and one of her grown sons was coming back home to help her run the salvage yard. She'd told Hannah that she'd suspected something was wrong, but she'd never dreamed that her husband had killed Sheriff Grant.

The jury was still out on Winthrop Harrington the Second. Norman was attempting to check several British databanks, but so far he'd learned nothing. Unfortunately, Winthrop was out of town and wouldn't be attending Bill's victory party. Hannah figured that she'd meet him eventually and then she'd make up her own mind.

Now that Barbara Donnelly had returned to work, Shawna Lee Quinn was back in the typing pool. That distance wasn't far enough to suit Andrea and she'd told Hannah that she planned to deal with that problem just as soon as little Billy was born and she was back on her feet.

"Your chair awaits you," Norman said, and Hannah whirled around to find both men standing behind her with crossed and clasped hands.

"You're going to carry me?" Hannah asked, not quite believing it.

"That's right." Mike moved forward and so did Norman.

"Sit down, Hannah. And put your arms around our shoulders. We'll carry you to the car."

Feeling just a bit like a damsel in distress and enjoying it immensely, Hannah took a seat on their crossed arms and steadied herself. And then her two escorts began to walk, carrying her down the path toward the waiting car in the first powdery snow of the winter.

"Lovely," Hannah breathed, not sure of the etiquette in such a situation, but loving every moment of it.