Raspberry Danish Murder (Hannah Swensen #22)(18)

Chapter Six


“We need to bake, Hannah,” Michelle said as they stepped into the kitchen at The Cookie Jar. “Baking always calms us down.”

“That’s true. And I have a new cookie I want to try. Do you have rehearsals today?”

“Yes, I have two rehearsals, back-to-back. We’re going to run through the junior play at noon, and the Lake Eden players come in at two. At least their rehearsal is shorter and I should be back here by three-fifteen.” Michelle moved a little closer. “I can cancel both rehearsals if you need me here, Hannah.”

Hannah shook her head. “No, Michelle. Thanks for offering, but I’m like you. . . . I’m better off if I stay really busy.”

“Okay, but I’ll have my cell with me. Just call if you need me and I’ll come straight back here. I want to work with you in the kitchen, though. I don’t want to work in the coffee shop.”

For a moment, Hannah was puzzled, and then she thought she understood. “Is Lisa going to tell the murder story?”

“Yes. I sent her a text last night and said I’d tell her all about it when I saw her in the morning.”

“Are you sure you want to do that?”

“I’m sure. I certainly don’t want to listen when Lisa tells the story, though.”

Hannah began to frown as an unwelcome thought crossed her mind. “I want you to be completely honest with me, Michelle. Are you encouraging Lisa to tell the story because you think it’ll increase our cookie sales?”

“That’s part of it,” Michelle admitted. “But Lisa loves to tell stories and everyone’s going to want to know the details anyway. If they don’t get them from Lisa, they’ll find out about the video and ask us.”

Hannah gave a reluctant nod. “You’re probably right. But it may be really difficult for you to fill Lisa in on the details.”

There was silence for a moment, and then Michelle sighed. “You’re right. It will be difficult, but it may be cathartic. And if I talk about it, I might not have any more nightmares like the ones I had last night.”

“Okay then.” Hannah gave a slight nod. “Do what you think is best, Michelle. But if you decide that you really don’t want Lisa to tell the story, I’m sure she’ll understand.”

“She will. That’s exactly what she said to me in her text message last night. There’s only one thing I’m wondering about. Do you think I should show Lisa the video?”

Hannah took a moment to think about that. Then she shook her head.

“Okay. I already decided that I wasn’t going to tell Lisa what Mike brought up this morning.”

“You mean that P.K. might not have been the intended victim?”

“Exactly. I thought it might interfere with our investigation.” Michelle stopped speaking and looked up at Hannah. “We are going to investigate, aren’t we?”

“Yes.”

“And we’re going to investigate both possibilities . . . aren’t we?”

“Yes, but I’m not sure how we’ll find out if Ross was the intended victim since no one knows where he is.”

“You’ll find a way. You’re really good at investigating murders.”

“Thanks.” Hannah turned to look at the kitchen coffeepot and saw that the green light was on. “The coffee’s ready, Michelle. Let’s have a cup and then we’ll bake. If Lisa tells the story today, we’ll need as many cookies as we can make.”

“I know.”

Hannah got up to pour two cups of coffee and carried them over to the work station. “What shall we bake first?” she asked as she took the stool across from her sister.

“I’ve got a bar cookie recipe that Aunt Nancy gave me the last time I came home from college. She said it belonged to Heiti’s mother, and I’m dying to try it.”

“Don’t say dying,” Hannah told her. “There’s already been enough of that around Lake Eden.”

*

Hannah was just taking the last pan of bar cookies she’d baked from the oven when someone knocked on the kitchen door. Michelle was in the coffee shop, giving Lisa the background for the story that she would tell after their customers came in, so Hannah rushed to let her visitor in the back door.

“Hi, Mike,” she said even before she checked to make sure that it was him.

“How did you know it was me?”

“I know your knock.”

“My knock is different than everyone else’s?”

“Yes,” Hannah said, choosing not to elaborate. She didn’t want to say that Mike’s knock was rapid and authoritative. It practically screamed, It’s the police. Open the door! Now!

“Something sure smells good in here,” Mike told her, hanging his uniform parka on one of the hooks by the back door.

“I know. Michelle and I have been baking. Sit down and I’ll get you a cup of coffee and a couple of cookies.”

“Great! I’m starving!”

There was an amazed expression on Hannah’s face as she went to pour Mike’s coffee. Two hours ago, he’d been sitting at her kitchen table, inhaling the breakfast that Michelle had made.

He’s a bottomless pit, she thought, but didn’t say it. Instead, she said, “Here’s your coffee,” and set it down in front of him. “I’ll cut some bar cookies for you.”