Raspberry Danish Murder (Hannah Swensen #22)(27)

Hannah smiled. Cyril’s brogue was thick when he said the typically Irish phrase. “Bye, Cyril. And I won’t forget to send those cookies.”

Hannah was smiling as she hung up the phone. Talking to Cyril always put her in a good mood and she decided to make something special for him. Perhaps she could bake an Irish Potato Cookie. He’d really like that. And somewhere, in her voluminous recipe collection at the condo, she thought she had a recipe. Since Michelle had scanned all the recipes and put them on her home computer, and she now had access to her files on the cloud, she’d be able to search for the recipe from here.

*

Six pans of Multiple Choice Bar Cookies, six pans of Lovely Lemon Bar Cookies, and six pans of Rocky Road Bar Cookies later, Hannah had climbed into her cookie truck and driven to Jordan High to pick up Michelle from her two play rehearsals. She pulled up to the curb and idled there while she used her cell phone to text her sister, and then she leaned back in the driver’s seat and shut her eyes for just a moment.

“Hannah!”

Hannah woke up to the sound of someone tapping her driver’s side window. She blinked several times, and then she smiled as she saw Michelle standing there.

“Get in, Michelle,” she called out, unlocking the passenger door. And after her sister had slid into the seat, she said, “Sorry, Michelle. I must have dozed off for a moment.”

“That’s not surprising. Neither one of us got much sleep last night. How’s the baking coming, Hannah?”

“Good.” Hannah put the truck in gear and drove to the corner. “I took on another project, Michelle.”

“Really? What project?”

“Sally asked us to run a cookie booth at her Holiday Gift Convention. I talked to Lisa, Aunt Nancy, and Marge, and they said they could handle the baking for the coffee shop by themselves if I wanted to do it.”

“How many cookies do you think Sally’s cookie booth will need?”

“Sally thinks we’ll sell about the same number as we sell at the coffee shop.”

Michelle looked surprised. “That’s a lot of cookies!”

“I know. But we get to keep all the profits. Sally doesn’t want a thing. And she’s not charging us rent for the booth. She told me she wanted to provide it as an on-site service so that the attendees can come to our booth, buy cookies and coffee, and carry them to the tables and chairs that they’re going to set up in the center of the space.”

Michelle gave a little nod. “That’s a smart idea on Sally’s part. It’ll be almost like a food court.”

“Yes, except we’ll be the only food booth. Brooke and Loren are so busy catering breakfasts, lunches, and dinners for the vendors, they won’t have time to supply cookies for the cookie booth. Sally said she expected about fifty vendors and almost a hundred have signed up.”

“That’s great. And I want to help you in the booth. We don’t have any rehearsals over the weekend, and Friday’s a half day at school. I’m available on all three days.”

A delighted smile spread over Hannah’s face. “That’s the best news I’ve gotten all week. And you’ll have your own transportation to come and go as you please.”

“What do you mean?” Michelle drew a deep breath and began to frown. “It’s very generous of you, Hannah, but . . .” She stopped and swallowed. “Well . . . I hope you’ll understand, but I really don’t think I can drive Ross’s car again, not after . . . you know.”

“Of course not! I feel the same way. I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about what happened. And that’s why I decided to sell it.”

Michelle looked puzzled. “But, Hannah . . . how can you sell it? It’s Ross’s car.”

“Not anymore. It’s my car now. Cyril found the pink slip, and Ross signed it over to me on the afternoon he left.”

“Oh, Hannah!” Michelle sounded as if she wanted to cry. “Do you think that means Ross knew he wasn’t coming back?”

“Maybe. I guess that’s the obvious conclusion. If he hadn’t taken the condo keys with him, I’d be convinced of it. But he did, and now I’m not quite sure what all this means.”

Michelle thought about that for a moment. “It means he was looking out for you. Otherwise he wouldn’t have taken the time to sign the pink slip.”

“He was looking out for you, too. He left the keys in your top dresser drawer.”

“You’re right. And Ross had no way of knowing that P.K. would be killed in his car and neither one of us would want to drive it again.”

Both sisters were silent for a moment, and then Hannah sighed. “Well, even if he didn’t know it was going to happen, Ross managed to solve a problem for you.”

“What problem?”

“Transportation. Cyril has a buyer for Ross’s car, and I told him to pick out a couple of used cars that would be good for you. If everything works out all right, we’ll just do an even trade.”

“But . . . Ross didn’t intend to buy me a car,” Michelle objected. “He intended to give his car to you.”

“The keys were in your dresser drawer, not mine. That settles it for me. Ross wanted you to have a car so we’re going out to Cyril’s Garage tomorrow morning and you’re going to choose which car you think is the best for you. I don’t want any argument on this, Michelle.”