Raspberry Danish Murder (Hannah Swensen #22)(60)

“And it didn’t work?”

“It worked just fine,” Hannah said. “Michelle listened for about thirty seconds, and then she went to sleep to get away from my singing.”

Dick laughed. “I think you’re both pulling my leg, but I’ll consider myself warned. Actually Hannah, your singing might be a big relief tonight.”

There was a grin on Dick’s face and Hannah knew that she was about to be the recipient of his leg-pulling. “What makes you so sure we won’t stop in for an after-dinner drink?”

“Alice Vogel and Digger Gibson are coming in. They always sing duets.”

“Digger can’t sing?” Michelle guessed.

“And neither can Alice?” Hannah added her question to the mix.

“You can say that. But since I’m their bartender, my lips are sealed . . . along with my ears.”

“Ear plugs?” Hannah asked him.

“Far be it from me to say anything unkind about a paying customer. Let’s just say that Digger and Alice love to . . .” Dick paused, searching for the right word. “They love to perform together.”

The two sisters exchanged glances. It was obvious to both of them that Dick was avoiding use of the word sing.

“We get it,” Michelle told him. “Do Digger and Alice think they’re really good . . . uh . . . performers?”

“They think they’re a terrific duo, especially when people applaud much longer and louder than they do for anyone else. Neither one of them realizes that their audience is applauding the fact that they’re finished with the song.”

“That sounds like me,” Hannah admitted. “I thought I was good until my class was singing a song for a school program, and the teacher asked me not to sing, but just to whisper the words instead.”

Dick’s grin grew wider. “That wouldn’t work with Alice and Digger. They’re firmly convinced that they’re incredibly musical.”

“And no one’s ever told them they’re not?” Hannah asked.

Dick shook his head. “Everybody likes Alice and everybody likes Digger. And no one wants to hurt their feelings. To tell the truth, there’s only one good thing about their performance.”

“What’s that?” Hannah asked, aware that she was falling into Dick’s trap, but unable to resist hearing the punch line.

“It’s like this. When Digger and Alice push back their chairs, everybody in the bar knows that they’re going to get up on stage. That makes everybody in the bar order doubles of whatever they’re drinking, even if they are drinking beer!”

“How do you double a beer?” Michelle asked.

“You order two bottles at once.”

“I wonder if that helps,” Hannah wondered aloud.

“It sure does! And it doesn’t hurt that all of my waitresses pass out disposable ear plugs with every double.”

Hannah and Michelle had just finished laughing when Norman pushed through the swinging doors of the bar. Hannah waved at him and Norman walked over to sit down on the stool she’d saved.

“Sorry that took so long,” he apologized. “I ran into one of my patients and she asked me to tell her all about implants.”

Hannah was curious. “I thought implants were highly specialized. Do you do implants?”

“No, but I told her to come in for an exam to see if she was a good candidate. And I said that if she was, I’d give her the name of a good oral surgeon.”

“What’ll it be, everybody?” Dick asked, placing blue and green striped cocktail napkins with the words LAKE EDEN INN in bold black letters in front.

“I’ll have a glass of your house chardonnay,” Michelle said. “I had it the last time I was here, and it was good.”

“It’s Clos du Bois,” Dick told her, and then he turned to Hannah. “And for you, Hannah?”

“I’d like an Arnold Palmer, heavy on the iced tea,” Hannah said.

“You’re not drinking?” Norman asked her.

“Not until dinner. I’ve been running around all day, and if I have more than one glass, it’ll probably put me to sleep.”

Dick looked over at Norman. “What about you, Norman?”

“Hot lemonade with cinnamon, please.”

“Good choice,” Dick said, smiling at him.

“Dick?” Hannah claimed his attention before he could leave to prepare their drinks. “Later, when you get a chance, I’d really like to talk to you for a couple of minutes.”

Dick leaned a bit closer to her. “About P.K.’s murder?”

“Yes. I have a couple of questions for you.”

Dick smiled. “Of course you do, Hannah. You always do. Let me get your drinks and check the rest of the people at the bar. Then I’ll come over and we can talk.” He glanced at his watch and continued. “We’re having Hockey Playoff Pizza Dip at the bar tonight, and it’s almost ready to come out of the oven. Would you like to try it?”

“I don’t know about them, but I would,” Norman said. “I’m really hungry.”

“I’d like to try it,” Hannah agreed. “Michelle?”

“Count me in.” She turned to Dick. “You said it was a dip, right?”