Red Velvet Cupcake Murder (Hannah Swensen, #16)(24)

“Compliant?” Norman gave a short laugh. “That would be a lost cause! There isn’t enough champagne in the world to get you compliant. Just remember that the more champagne you drink, the sexier I look.”

Now it was Hannah’s turn to laugh and she did. It was the first good laugh she’d had since she’d visited Barbara at the hospital and it felt good.

“It’s good to hear you laugh, Hannah.” Norman looked pleased. “But really, suit yourself. Drink it all, or don’t drink it all. That’s completely up to you. If you don’t want the second glass, that’s okay with me.”

Right. Sure. Hannah’s mind went into sarcasm mode. You brought me a bottle of one of the best champagnes in the world, champagne I’ve never tasted before and probably won’t ever get the chance to taste again. And you actually think I’m going to drink one glass and dump the rest down the garbage disposal?!

When Hannah looked over at Norman, she saw that he was grinning. Had he guessed she was having an internal dialogue with her mind? “You’ve got to be kidding about throwing part of this out.”

“You bet I am. Let’s enjoy the night, Hannah. I know I will. Both of us need to relax and have fun, now that we’re about to gear up for two more investigations.”

Hannah blinked in surprise. “I know you’re talking about Clayton Wallace. We have to prove his death was accidental so we can get that insurance money for his son. But you said two investigations.”

“Yes. We have to investigate Barbara’s fall.”

Hannah put two and two together and swallowed hard. “Then Barbara wasn’t imagining things when she said someone tried to kill her?”

“Doc and I don’t think so.”

“Then you believe she has a brother who surfaced for the party and pushed her off the roof?”

“No, I don’t believe the brother part of it. She’s clearly confused about that. But we do think someone attempted to kill her. Doc and I came up with a possible scenario, and I’ll tell you all about it after dinner. Right now I want to open this champagne for you.”

Norman took the bottle and opened the champagne while Hannah got an empty champagne glass for her and a tall glass of lemonade for him. She was about to go back into the kitchen for the appetizer tray that she’d prepared when Norman reached out to stop her. “Sit down, Hannah,” he invited, patting the couch next to him.

“Just let me get the cheese platter and then I will.”

“The cheese platter can wait. Try the champagne first. I want to see if you like it.”

“Of course I’ll like it,” Hannah said with a smile as she sat down beside him and accepted the glass. She took a sip and gave a blissful sigh. The champagne was every bit as good as its publicity. “Lovely,” she breathed. “Are you sure you . . .”

“No, thanks,” Norman interrupted her. “It’s all yours.”

Hannah took another sip and then she stood up again. “I’ll get that cheese platter now. This champagne will be perfect with the triple-cream Camembert.”

Once she’d returned with the appetizer tray and it was sitting between them on the coffee table, she turned to Norman. “Florence told me that the pears were just perfect today, and so were these flame grapes. They don’t have seeds. The dark brown crackers are pumpernickel flatbread, and the white ones are salted water crackers. And the cheeses are Danish Stilton with apricots, Wisconsin extra-sharp aged Cheddar, and triple-cream Camembert. . . .”

“Hold it, Hannah!” Norman interrupted her explanation, as he gazed in amazement at the huge appetizer tray. “Are you expecting an army?”

“No. I just got a little carried away when Florence told me about the cheeses. And the leftovers will keep. It’s just the two of us for dinner, Norman.”

The words had barely left Hannah’s lips when the phone rang. Both Hannah and Norman stared at it for a moment, and then their eyes met in total disbelief. “Do you think I should . . . ?” Hannah began.

“Answer it,” Norman said with a sigh. “If we’re lucky, it’s a telemarketer and you can hang up right away.”

Hannah reached for the phone as gingerly as if it were resting on the head of a hibernating bear. “Hello?” she asked in a tentative voice.

“Hi, Hannah! It’s Mike.”

“Hi, Mike.” Hannah put her hand over the receiver and whispered, It’s Mike, to Norman, quite unnecessarily.

“I just pulled into your complex. Is it okay if I come over? I want to find out what happened when you visited Barbara.”

Hannah covered the receiver again. He wants to come over, she whispered.

Norman didn’t say a thing. He just held out his hand for the phone. Hannah handed it over gratefully and listened as the two rivals for her affections conversed.

“It’s Norman. Go ahead and come up.” He turned to pantomime eating to Hannah and pointed to the phone. When Hannah nodded, he continued. “Hannah just fixed dinner and there’s plenty for three.”

There was a pause while Mike talked and Hannah assumed he was saying something about not wanting to intrude on their evening. Mike could be polite if he wanted to be.

“That’s okay, Mike,” Norman said, turning to give Hannah an apologetic look. “I’ve got something I need to tell you anyway.”