Red Velvet Cupcake Murder (Hannah Swensen, #16)(80)

Hannah laughed and so did Barbara, but Barbara sobered quickly. “Do you think Moishe will wake up if the monster comes?”

Hannah felt her heart sink down to her toes. It was obvious that Barbara still had one of her delusions. “I’m sure he’ll wake up,” she said.

“That’s a relief. I just know he’s coming tonight. There’s a moon. There’s always a moon when the monster comes. That’s how I know he’s white.” Barbara stopped speaking and frowned. “What is it called when you’re white but you shouldn’t be? Everyone else around you is colored. It’s . . . something to do with lack of pig . . . pig . . . pig-something.”

It took Hannah a moment, but then she caught on. “Pigment,” she said. “A person or an animal lacking pigmentation is called albino.”

“That’s it! Albino! My mother said they had an albino hired hand on the farm when she was growing up. He had to wear dark glasses all the time because he had trouble with his eyes. Thank you, Hannah. I’m not sure I would have remembered that word without you.”

“You’re welcome, Barbara. You mentioned your mother. What was your mother’s name?”

“There she is at the kitchen table, eating a big bowl of strawberries. Berries. Berry. My mother’s name was Terry. That’s short for Theresa. My mother’s name was Theresa.”

“Wonderful! How about your dad? What was his name?”

“There’s Dad at Hal and Rose’s Café, eating a patty melt. Paddy. That’s short for Patrick. My dad’s name is Patrick.”

“What was the former sheriff’s name?”

“He’s in his office watering a plant. It’s . . . Sheriff Grant!”

“Very good. Now, what was your father’s name?”

Barbara was silent for a long moment and then she shook her head. “I don’t like that one, Hannah. I don’t remember. I’m tired now and I think I want to go to sleep. Is that all right with you?”

“That’s fine with me, Barbara. I’m tired, too. I’ll sleep right here on the cot.”

“All right, Hannah. Sweet dreams.”

“And sweet dreams to you, Barbara.”

The cot was uncomfortable, but she was tired. Even though she tried to stay awake for a while, Hannah felt herself dozing off. She dreamed of a white monster and she felt her eyes fly open. And there it was! Right there on the wall! It was a shadow, a grotesque shadow that looked like a combination between a rat and a humpback seal. The monster was gliding along the floor.

She must be dreaming. She had to be dreaming. The shadow was at least four feet tall and the monster was as long as Barbara’s hospital bed. It was stealthy and silent as it traveled around the room, and Hannah didn’t seem capable of moving, or calling for help, or doing anything except stare at the monster.

And then there was a thud as something heavy hit the floor. And a screech, followed by a yowl that split the night air.

Moishe was a blur of movement as he hissed, and puffed up to twice his normal size, and confronted something on the floor at the foot of Barbara’s bed.

“Moishe!” Hannah sat bolt upright on the cot as something white, a creature much smaller than the menacing shadow, raced toward the window and leaped out through the screen.

Hannah moved faster than she’d ever moved before in her life, jumping off the cot to catch Moishe in mid-air as he was about to leap out of the window in hot pursuit.

“It was the monster!” Barbara exclaimed. “I told you there was a monster! Nobody believed me when I said it was real.”

“They’ll believe you now,” Hannah promised, shutting the window, but not before she saw the torn screen. Then she took Moishe back to Barbara’s bed and put him down so that Barbara could pet him.

“My big brave Moishe!” Barbara murmured, petting and soothing him. “What a wonderful brave kitty you are! You saved me, Moishe. I knew you would.” And then she turned to Hannah. “The monster was real, wasn’t it, Hannah?”

“Yes, it was,” Hannah answered, shivering slightly. Perhaps, in the daylight, she might not have been so startled, but the shadow had been truly frightening.

“What was it?” Barbara asked her. “Was it some kind of animal?”

“It was a weasel. Some people call them stoats. I saw a couple of them when I stayed overnight with my grandparents on the farm. The weasels used to try to get into my grandmother’s hen house to steal the eggs, but I’ve never seen any that large before. You were right, Barbara. It was an albino weasel.”

“I’ve never seen a weasel.” Barbara’s voice was shaking. “No wonder I didn’t know what it was! Will it come in here again?”

“Never,” Hannah promised her. “The window’s shut now so it can’t get in. Your screen was torn at the bottom and that’s how it got in. I’ll find Freddy in the morning and ask him to replace it for you.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven


“Aweasel!” Michelle exclaimed. “No wonder Barbara was scared. They’re ugly.”

“That’s true and its shadow was huge. It was enough to scare me when I saw it.”

“And you’d seen weasels before,” Delores pointed out.

Lisa gave a little shiver. “I’m glad I wasn’t there. I’ve never seen a weasel and I don’t think I want to.”