Raspberry Danish Murder (Hannah Swensen #22)(50)

“Do you have tweezers in that big purse of yours? That would do. Or maybe a pair of scissors?”

Hannah turned back to her open purse and began to search. There were no tweezers and no scissors that she could locate, but there was a set of chopsticks. “How about this?” she asked, handing the paper-wrapped packet to Mike.

Mike drew the chopsticks out of the packet and began to smile. “I’m pretty good with chopsticks, so let me give it a whirl. It’ll be a tricky, but I think I can do it.”

Hannah watched in fascination as Mike used the wooden chopsticks to lift the key and deposit it on top of the desk. “Can we touch it now?” she asked him.

“Yes. It’s just the money that I didn’t want you to touch. Pick it up, Hannah. Let’s take a closer look at it.”

Hannah picked up the key and flipped it over in her hand. “There’s writing on this side,” she said. “It’s marked ‘Superior Storage,’ and there’s a number on the other side. It looks like three-twelve.”

“Let me see.” Mike held out his hand and Hannah gave him the key. He turned it over in his hand, examining both sides. “You’re right, Hannah. The two is a little worn, but it’s definitely three-twelve. This is a key to a storage unit.”

“Ross’s storage unit?”

“Maybe. Either that or he was keeping it for someone. Do you know if he wrote a monthly check to a storage company?”

“No. Ross paid his own bills, but Doug can give us a printout of all the checks he wrote.” Hannah felt a rush of excitement so intense, it almost made her dizzy. “If we can locate his storage unit, there could be a clue to where Ross went.”

Mike smiled at her. “Yes. It’s the first lead I’ve gotten in my search for him. Let me keep this key, Hannah, and I’ll research it on the department computer.”

Hannah was about to agree when she thought better of it. “No. I’ll keep it. You’ve got the name of the storage facility and the number of the unit. I’ll keep the key.”

“Why?”

“Because Ross is my husband and he left that key for me. I want to be there if you locate it. I need to unlock it myself.”

“But . . . okay,” Mike agreed. “If I find the unit, you can come along to open it.”

“Thanks,” Hannah said, dropping the key in her pocket. It might have been silly, but she felt as if she’d just won the lottery. She turned to look over at the safe deposit box again and frowned slightly. “I have one more question for you, Mike.”

“What is it?”

“What do you think I should do with this money right now?”

“You should put it back in the vault. But before you do that, I think we should call Doug in to witness what’s inside Ross’s box. You haven’t touched anything inside, have you, Hannah?”

“No. I just touched the outside of the lid when I opened it.”

“Good. I want Doug to watch while I pick up one of the bundles and read off some of the serial numbers so you can copy them down for me. Then I’ll put the bills back and he can substantiate that.”

‘Why?”

“Because I’ll have to take money from the box to get the serial numbers. With Doug as a reliable witness, he can swear that I put the bills back if there’s ever any question about that.”

“That makes sense. And once you get the serial numbers, you’ll call your friend to see if he can find out anything for us?”

“Yes. That’s my plan.”

“Okay. That all sounds reasonable to me. Do you want me to go and ask Doug to come in here?”

“No. I’ll call him on my cell phone. I don’t think that either one of us should leave the other in here alone.”

“And that’s just in case the money is counterfeit or illegal in some other way?”

“Right. And then, when we’re finished, I want Doug to watch while you put the box back and lock it up.” Mike moved closer and gave her a little hug. “It can’t hurt to err on the side of caution, especially since we really don’t know what we’re dealing with here.”





Chapter Sixteen


Hannah gave a little wave as Mike pulled away in his cruiser. Then she walked to the back door and stood there, wondering if she should go in. She had one more stop to make and she didn’t want to take Michelle with her. It could be difficult for Michelle to be objective, hearing Hannah ask questions of P.K.’s coworkers.

She turned and took a few steps toward her cookie truck, but then she reconsidered. It was always easier getting people to talk if she brought some sweet treat with her to break the ice. She needed cookies to serve in the television station’s break room. Anything chocolate would be good. Chocolate seemed to calm people down and make them more willing to be candid with her.

Hannah turned on her heel and reversed direction, walking quickly to the back door of The Cookie Jar. If luck was with her, everyone would be in the coffee shop handling the noon rush.

Cautiously, Hannah opened the door and peeked in. The kitchen was deserted. She rushed in, closing the door silently behind her, and went straight to the bakers rack where eight pans of Chocolate Cashew Bar Cookies were stacked, each on its own shelf. She hurried to cut a pan into brownie-sized pieces and place them on a platter. No more than two or three minutes later, she was stashing her platter in the back of the cookie truck and climbing behind the wheel.