Red Velvet Cupcake Murder (Hannah Swensen, #16)(53)

“You’re free to go, Hannah,” he said.

“But . . .” Hannah began to ask him why he’d suddenly stopped before he finished asking all the questions he’d asked her before when Howie reached out to take her arm.

“Thank you, Detective Kingston,” Howie said, and then he turned to Hannah. “Come with me, Hannah. I’ll drive you home.”

Hannah took the hint that wasn’t exactly gentle, and merely nodded. Howie didn’t want her to say another word in front of Mike. Mike was all cop and she was all prime murder suspect. This was not a friendly situation and the sooner she put distance between them, the better.

Hannah dove down toward the darkness that gathered at the very bottom of the pond. As she descended into the curious half-light that caused colors to change and fade into some strange hue that went nameless on color charts, she spotted the car. The rippling water made it appear to be moving forward, driving across the bottom of the pond. Even the driver appeared to be moving with her blond hair trailing out in wispy tendrils behind her.

She wanted to leave, to go back up to the surface where it was bright and safe. The driver was dead. She knew that. But as she approached the side of the car, the woman turned her head and stared into Hannah’s eyes with her dead wavy eyes. And then she lifted one pale hand and beckoned Hannah closer.

She didn’t want to go. She knew she shouldn’t go. But some force stronger than the waving water drew her closer to the car. The driver smiled as she approached. Her mouth opened and a rush of bubbles came out. Not dead then. You couldn’t make bubbles without air in your lungs.

The woman used one long wavy finger to point to the passenger seat. She wanted Hannah to get into the car and sit next to her. But Hannah didn’t want to get in with a dead woman who still had air in her lungs.

There was another burst of bubbles and Hannah heard something. It was barely audible, but it was a word and the word was closer.

Despite her revulsion, Hannah felt her body move forward. She seemed to have no control over her muscles as they carried her to the side of the car. And then the woman’s arm snaked out to remove the thermos on the passenger seat and to pull Hannah into the seat. Her long wavy fingers clicked the seat belt securely into place, and then she laughed over and over, an insane, cascading laugh like the loons that called across the lake in the dead of night. And then her arms shot out to wrap around Hannah’s chest like a band of wet steel that expelled the last breath of air from her body, squeezing, scratching, and kneading her into submission.

And then, as Hannah felt herself sink lower and lower, heading toward the dim recesses of her watery grave, there was another burst of bubbles from the dead woman’s mouth that formed words.

Go for a ride, her eerie underwater voice said. Go for a ride and stay with me forever.

“Noooooo!” Hannah moaned in terror, pushing back the weight of the dead woman’s arms and sitting bolt upright in bed. Almost simultaneously there was an irate yowl from Moishe as he landed on the rug by the side of the bed.

It took a full minute for Hannah to realize that it had all been a dream, a terrible nightmare. She must have made some sounds of distress while she was in the throes of the nightmare and Moishe had jumped up on her chest. She wasn’t sure if he’d been trying to protect her from her nightmare or whether he was merely curious, but her sleeping mind had incorporated him into the fabric of the horrible dream.

“I’m sorry if I scared you, Moishe. Come here and I’ll scratch you behind the ears. Everything’s okay. I’m awake now.”

Moishe regarded her with unblinking eyes from the top of her dresser. His tail flicked once and Hannah knew that he was not about to risk a repeat of his unceremonious exit from her bed.

Hannah reached out to turn on the light and stopped in midair. She didn’t need the light. Daylight was streaming through her bedroom window. But that was impossible. This was a workday and she always got up in the dark on a workday.

One glance at the clock told her the truth. It was nine-thirty in the morning. She’d slept right through her alarm. Of course that wasn’t surprising. When she’d come back to the condo, long after midnight, she’d been utterly exhausted and very grateful to see Michelle waiting up for her. They’d talked about everything that had happened until Hannah could no longer keep her eyes open, and Michelle had insisted that she go to bed. And now she’d slept right through the summons of her extra-loud alarm clock. Or had she?

The button to activate her alarm clock was not pulled out. And she distinctly remembered pulling it out when she’d gone to bed. Someone had come in and turned off her alarm, and since there was no one else here, Michelle must have done it.

Hannah pulled on her slippers, got into her robe, and padded down the hallway to the guest room. All she needed to see was the neatly made bed and she knew that Michelle was up. But Michelle wasn’t in the living room and she wasn’t in the kitchen either. There was, however, a note propped up next to the coffeemaker.

Coffee’s ready to go, the note read. Just turn it on. No need to hurry. Lisa and I have everything covered at the shop. Jack and Marge are helping. I baked Jamboree Muffins. They’re in a basket on the kitchen table. Let me know what you think of them. Mother called. Cancel taking Moishe to see Barbara this afternoon. If you can, Doc Knight wants you to come tonight around six. Mother is bringing Jenny in to meet you at work this afternoon. Hope you got good sleep. Love, Michelle.