Raspberry Danish Murder (Hannah Swensen #22)(97)

“And you think we need a dessert after that huge meal?”

“Yes, definitely. I don’t know about you, but an orange cut up in fancy pieces just doesn’t do it for me.”

*

“Are you ready?” Norman asked, standing by the cat carrier, his hand on the grate.

“I’m ready,” Hannah said.

“Me, too,” Michelle added.

“Rrrroowwww!” Moishe confirmed it.

“Okay. She’s going to come out like a rocket. Here goes!”

Norman was right. Cuddles shot out of the crate like a circus clown shot out of a cannon. The first thing she did was make a sharp right and race down the hallway with Moishe in close pursuit.

“Where are they going?” Michelle asked.

Hannah laughed. “Probably to the bedroom, where they’ll launch themselves up to my bed, congratulate each other for startling us, burn what we used to call a wheelie in high school, hop down again, and sprint back here.”

“You’re probably right,” Norman said quickly. “I think I just heard them hit the floor again. Head for the couches and feet up! Quick!”

Hannah, Michelle, and Norman made a beeline for the sofas and got their feet up just a split second before the two cats came roaring through the living room.

“Okay,” Michelle said. “Let’s get to work making those . . .” She paused and stared at Hannah and Norman. “Why are you two shaking your heads?”

“Norman and I have seen this game more than you have,” Hannah told her. “We figured out the pattern, and the cats always do this three times.”

“Oh!” Michelle said, lifting her feet again. “But I don’t hear any . . .” She stopped speaking again and gave a little nod. “Yes, I do. They just jumped down from your bed.”

When the second race was over, Hannah got up and hurried to the kitchen for the treat canister. She got back just in time to watch the third race. When it was over, both cats jumped up on the back of the couch and watched while Hannah took the lid off the small canister. “That was a good show,” she told them, placing an equal number of treats in front of each cat. Then she turned to Norman and Michelle. “If we’re right about the number of races, it should be over now. And that means that we can get to work.”

Fueled by strong coffee and an occasional Lovely Lemon Bar Cookie, they made calls to each of the hospitals on Norman’s list. He’d also made another list of rehabilitation and physical therapy facilities attached to hospitals, and Hannah called those. Since Norman had numbered his initial list, he took the even numbers and Michelle took the odd. They worked until they’d called every place on both lists, and then they just sat there and looked at each other in consternation.

“She’s not there,” Norman said, telling them what they already knew.

“That’s right, unless she checked in under her married name,” Michelle said.

“We can check for that,” Norman said. “What was her married name?”

“We don’t know,” Hannah told him. “We might be able to find out tomorrow, but we’ve done all we can for tonight. Thank you for helping us tonight, Norman. And thanks for dinner. It was fun.”

“Yes, it was,” Michelle agreed.

“I thought so, too. We’ll have to do it again instead of always getting takeout.” Norman got up. “I’d better let you two get some sleep.”

Norman was just getting ready to put Cuddles in her kitty carrier and leave when Michelle’s cell phone rang. She reached out to answer it, listened for a moment, and then she put out a hand to stop him.

“Don’t leave yet,” she said. “This is important.”

There was no way either Hannah or Norman could figure out who Michelle’s caller was or the subject of the call from Michelle’s side of the conversation. It consisted of yes, no, not really, and I’ll check. When Michelle got off the phone, Hannah could contain her curiosity no longer. “Who was that?” she asked.

“The lady on night shift at the Superior Storage facility that I called, the one close to my campus. She said I spoke to someone new, but the woman had written everything down. June, the supervisor I talked to tonight, was going over the new employee’s work, and she found the record of my phone call. She checked the list of rental units for the name, Ross Barton, and it wasn’t there, but there was a name that was very similar.”

“What was the name?” Norman asked.

“Russ Burton.”

Norman looked hopeful. “That’s pretty close.”

“That’s what she thought. And then she told me that they were about to put the contents up for auction because the rent was three months in arrears. And she said that if we wanted to come there to look at the contents, that would be fine with her.”

“And it’s unit three-twelve?” Hannah asked.

“No, but the contents could still belong to Ross. I think we should go and take a look.”





Chapter Twenty-nine


Hannah sat in the front seat of Norman’s car, clutching a thermos of coffee. “More coffee, Norman?”

“No, thanks. I’ll wait until we stop for breakfast. We have an hour to eat. June doesn’t get to work until nine.”