Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder Part 21

Bill put on the look that Hannah had never been able to resist-the one she privately called begging ba.s.set hound. She gave a long sigh and then she caved in. "Okay. I'll bring dessert."

"Thanks, Hannah." Bill looked properly grateful. "Just make sure you don't mention the case. I don't want Mike to know that I recruited a civilian to help me."

"Don't worry. I won't say anything."

Bill headed toward the door. He was about to open it when he turned to grin at her. "I forgot to tell you that Delores is coming out tomorrow night. She wants to meet Mike."

Hannah's eyes narrowed as the door closed behind Bill. Things were beginning to add up. There was the remark Delores had made about how Hannah wouldn't be able to attract any man except a homicide detective if she kept on finding bodies. There was the way that Bill had told her all about Mike's background, painting him as a man with a deep sorrow that was bound to tug at any woman's heartstrings. Added to all that was the way that Bill had practically begged her to join them for pizza so that she could pa.s.s along any useful insights into Mike's character. Right. Sure.

Hannah sighed deeply and marched over to turn the "Closed" sign to "Open." Bill had set her up and he'd done it like a pro. There was only one conclusion that she could draw. Bill had been taking a crash course in matchmaking from his wife and his mother-in-law.

Chapter Twenty-Two.

Two minutes after she'd flipped the sign to "Open," Hannah's regulars began to come in. She chatted, poured coffee, and fetched cookies for two solid hours without a break. The news had leaked out and everyone she served wanted to know what she knew about Max's murder and how it related to Ron's.

"Do you think it's the same killer, Hannah?" Bertie Straub looked anxious as she munched a Mola.s.ses Crackle. She'd walked down from the Cut 'n Curl to get the latest news for her blue-haired customers, who were gossiping under the gleaming metal heads of the dryers.

"It's got to be. How could we have two killers in a town the size of Lake Eden?"

"Did you you discover Max's body?" Bertie lowered her voice and glanced around to make sure no one was listening. "You can tell me, Hannah. I promise I won't repeat it to a soul." discover Max's body?" Bertie lowered her voice and glanced around to make sure no one was listening. "You can tell me, Hannah. I promise I won't repeat it to a soul."

Hannah had all she could do to keep a solemn expression. Telling Bertie would be tantamount to calling KCOW's talk line and broadcasting it over the radio waves. "I can't say yes or no, Bertie. All the facts are a part of the ongoing investigation."

"You did! I can tell by the look on your face!" Bertie gave a theatrical s.h.i.+ver and Hannah wondered if she'd joined The Lake Eden Players. "Was it terrible, Hannah?"

"It's always terrible when someone loses his life." Hannah parroted another polite phrase, the same one she'd used countless times this morning.

"They'll catch him soon, won't they? I swear I haven't slept a wink since I heard about Ron. To think that there's a killer out there among us!"

"I'm sure they will, Bertie. Bill's on the case and he's a very good detective."

Hannah was saved further questioning by the arrival of Lisa, bearing more cookies on a tray. Lisa took one look at her employer's frustrated expression and winked. "Your mother's on the phone, Hannah, and she says it's urgent. Why don't you catch the phone in back? It's quieter there. And take some coffee with you."

"I've got to run, Bertie." Hannah shot Lisa a thankful look, filled her mug with coffee, and headed off through the swinging door. She'd answered so many questions, her head was spinning, and it was only eleven in the morning.

She was about to sit down on a stool at the work island when the phone rang. Hannah grabbed it up before she could think better of it, and she heard her mother's excited voice.

"Hannah? Are you there?"

"Yes, Mother." Hannah took a slug of her coffee. "You must be psychic."

"What, dear?"

"Never mind. What can I do for you?"

"Have you seen the pictures Carrie took at the Woodleys' party yet?"

"Not yet." Hannah glanced up at the clock. "Norman said he'd bring them over at noon."

"Well, you're in for a pleasant surprise. There's one of you that's very nice. You don't look like yourself at all. Norman promised to make me an eight by ten to put in a frame."

Hannah had all she could do not to laugh. She looked nice? Not like herself at all? Leave it to a girl's mother to destroy her confidence.

"I've got to rush, dear. I'm just on my way out, but I wanted to call you first."

"Thanks, Mother. I'll talk to you later." Hannah groaned as she hung up the phone. Maybe she should accept Lisa's advice and take the rest of the day off. She'd already heard all there was to hear from her customers. She'd stick around to see that "nice" picture of her and then she'd go home and concentrate on the important things. If she really worked hard, she might be able to solve Bill's murder case before Mike Kingston came on board.

"What do you think, Hannah?" Norman watched her as she paged through the prints he'd brought. "That one on top is your mother's favorite."

Hannah sighed, staring down at the print. Her eyes were half-closed, her smile was crooked, and her hair stuck up over her left ear. "It's not exactly the best picture of me I've ever seen."

"I know," Norman sympathized. "There's a much better one of you, but my mother managed to cut off your left arm."

"Let me see." Andrea reached for the print. She'd come in, about five minutes ago, with Tracey.

Hannah watched while Andrea studied the print. She could tell, by the little line of concentration between her sister's eyes, that Andrea was trying to think of something nice to say. It must have been a struggle because it took Andrea at least thirty seconds to react. "You look a little thinner than you usually do. And your dress looks beautiful."

"I think Aunt Hannah looks pretty." Tracey smiled up at Hannah. "Maybe not as pretty as right now, but still pretty."

"Diplomatic Corps." Hannah winked at Andrea. "Tracey shows real promise."

Andrea laughed and held out her hand. "Let's see the rest."

Hannah glanced down at the next picture. It was one of Andrea and Bill, and they both looked fabulous in their formal clothing. Andrea was amazingly photogenic, while pictures of Hannah always reminded her of the "before" photos in makeup ads.

They went through the prints one by one, Hannah handing them to Andrea after she'd seen them. Thankfully, her customers were settled with their coffee and their cookies and no one rushed up to the counter to interrupt them. Hannah came to the one that Norman had mentioned and she did did look better. She was sitting on the couch with Norman standing behind her, and it was just a pity that her left arm was out of the frame. Norman's mother had managed to center the picture so badly that almost half of the photo was taken up by the end table next to the couch. look better. She was sitting on the couch with Norman standing behind her, and it was just a pity that her left arm was out of the frame. Norman's mother had managed to center the picture so badly that almost half of the photo was taken up by the end table next to the couch.

Hannah was about to hand it to Andrea when she noticed a stack of books and papers on the table. There was a white folder on top of the stack and it had red lettering. She held it closer, squinted a little, and read the words: "Compacts Unlimited." One of the Woodleys had rented the kind of car that Mr. Harris had seen pulling out of the Cozy Cow driveway on the morning of the murders!

"What's the matter, Hannah?" Andrea caught the shocked expression that must have flitted across her face.

"Nothing, but I really like this one." Hannah turned to Norman and asked, "Can I keep it?"

"Sure. But why do you want that that one?" one?"

Hannah thought fast. She couldn't go wrong appealing to Norman's vanity. "It's a very good picture of you."

"It is?" Norman leaned over to examine the print. "I don't think so."

"But I do. I'd really like to have it, Norman."

Norman took the photo and examined it with a critical eye. "Let me reprint it for you. I can do some tricks with the negative in my darkroom."

"No, it's just fine." Hannah s.n.a.t.c.hed the photo out of his hands. "I like it just the way it is."

Andrea stared at her. "You want to keep the one with your arm cut off?"

"If it was good enough for Venus, it's good enough for me." Hannah shot her sister a warning look.

"I could center it differently, cut off that table, and enlarge it to a head shot of the two of us," Norman suggested. "If I can do that, would you like it?"

"Of course I would. But I want to keep this one anyway."

Norman just shrugged and turned to Andrea. "How about you? Would you like copies of anything?"

"I'd love to have these." Andrea handed him two prints.

The bell over the door tinkled and Sheriff Grant walked in, followed by the most intimidating hunk of man that Hannah had ever laid eyes on. He was tall, well over six feet, and he had reddish blond hair, piercing blue eyes, and a mustache. He looked as fit as an athlete and only the deep lines in his face kept him from being cla.s.sically handsome. There was a buzz of conversation from the customers at the tables and Hannah could understand why. He was the best-looking man to hit Lake Eden in a month of Sundays.

"It's him!" Andrea nudged her. "That's Mike Kingston."

"I know." Hannah grinned. Her sister had stated the obvious. Mike Kingston was with Sheriff Grant. Who else could he be?

"Hannah." Sheriff Grant strode over to the counter. "This is Mike Kingston. He'll be joining the department on Monday."

Hannah swallowed hard. She'd never been uncomfortable around men before, but Mike Kingston was an exception. The moment she'd seen him, her pulse had quickened and she found she couldn't meet his eyes. She took a deep breath, willed her voice to be steady, and said, "I'm glad to meet you Deputy Kingston."

"Mike."

His voice was deep and warm, and it matched his size. Hannah felt a purely physical reaction she hadn't experienced since her two-timing professor had invited her to his apartment. She turned quickly to perform the introductions, praying that no one would guess what effect just being in the same room with Mike Kingston was having on her. "This is my sister, Andrea Todd, and here's my niece, Tracey. And this is Norman Rhodes. He just took over his father's dental practice in town. I know you're in a hurry, so I'll just zip in back and get those cookies for you."

As Mike Kingston turned to shake hands with Andrea and Norman, Hannah made her escape to the bakery. Once she was safely behind the swinging door, she ducked into the bathroom and splashed some cold water on her face. If just meeting Mike Kingston was this much of a jolt, how was she going to handle their pizza dinner tomorrow night when she'd actually have to talk to him?

Never one to run away from a problem, Hannah decided that there was no time like the present to confront it. Mike Kingston would think that she was crazy if she ducked into a different room every time he came into The Cookie Jar. She marched out of the bathroom, picked up the box of the Black and Whites for the open house, and pushed back through the swinging door to the front of her shop.

Mike Kingston turned to smile at her and Hannah's breath caught in her throat. She hoped she wasn't staring at him like a teenage groupie who'd come face to face with her favorite rock star.

"It's really nice of you to bake these cookies for us, Hannah. Sheriff Grant said that you do it every year."

"I do." Hannah was relieved. He didn't seem to have noticed how fl.u.s.tered she was and that was good. "I cater your summer picnic, too. It's a bring-your-own-steak barbecue out at Eden Lake and I provide lemonade and cookies."

"That sounds good. There's nothing like a barbecue out at the lake."

"We'd better get going, Mike."

Sheriff Grant turned to his newest protege, and Hannah could see the admiration in his eyes. He had to look up. Mike Kingston was at least six three, and Sheriff Grant was a good four inches short of the six-foot mark. The newest member of the Winnetka County Sheriff's Department made Hannah feel pet.i.te, and she'd never felt pet.i.te before in her life.

"See you later, Hannah."

Mike Kingston gave her a wave and Hannah smiled. He seemed perfectly nice. She had nothing against him personally. But she was prepared to despise him if Bill didn't get his promotion.

"Nice to meet you, Norman." Mike nodded to Norman and then he turned to Andrea. "I'm looking forward to working with your husband, Andrea."

"That's my daddy," Tracey piped up.

"I know." Mike Kingston leaned down and whispered something in Tracey's ear.

As Hannah watched, her niece's eyes widened and then she gave a delighted giggle. "Really?"

"I promise." Mike nodded. "But it's a secret until tomorrow night. I'll bring it then."

The minute the door had closed behind them, Andrea turned to Tracey. "What did he say?"

"I can't tell you." Tracey was all smiles. "You heard him say it was a secret. But you'll find out tomorrow night when we have the pizza."

Andrea exchanged a glance with Hannah. She seemed pleased that her daughter had gotten along so well with Bill's new supervisor. "I've got to run, Hannah. I'm taking a load of things out to Luanne, and Tracey's going to help me. And then we're going out to the open house at the sheriff's station."

"I've got to leave, too. I have a patient in twenty minutes." Norman reached into his pocket, pulled out a stack of business cards, and handed them to Hannah. "These are for you."

Hannah took the cards and began to smile. They were perfect, and Norman had even printed little cookies around the border. "Thanks, Norman. They're wonderful."

"I can print out more if you need them."

"Let's hope I do. Hold on just a second." Hannah opened the cash register and drew out the manila envelope with his mother's loan papers inside. "Here, Norman. This is for you."

"For me?" Norman looked puzzled as she handed it to him.

"It's something I came across the other night. Just open it when you get back to the office. There's a note inside explaining everything."

Hannah breathed a deep sigh of relief as they all left together. She had work to do and it didn't have anything to do with baking, selling, or serving cookies. She grabbed the print she'd taken from Norman and headed off to the back room to tell Lisa that she was going take her up on her offer to stay until closing. She had people to see, calls to make, and if she got lucky, she might be able to solve Bill's double-homicide case before Monday morning.

Chapter Twenty-Three.

Hannah pushed open her condo door and caught a flash of orange out of the corner of her eye. Moishe had just jumped down from his perch on the top of the television set and he looked about as guilty as a cat could look. She glanced at the screen and realized that a nature program was on-one that was running footage of a flock of flamingos flapping their bright pink wings.

"Those birds are four times your size, Moishe." Hannah gave him a scratch under the chin to let him know that she wasn't angry. When she'd unlocked the door, her fierce feline hunter had been in the process of hanging over the top of the set to bat at the birds with his paw.

Once she'd switched off the enticing flamingos and hung up her jacket, Hannah walked out to the kitchen to fill Moishe's food bowl. Of course it was empty. It was always empty. Moishe's favorite activities when she was gone were eating and napping.

There were three messages on her answer machine. The first was from her downstairs neighbor, Sue Plotnik, asking if she could serve cookies at her Mommy and Me cla.s.s next week. Hannah penciled it in on her kitchen calendar; she'd transfer it to the one at The Cookie Jar when she went in on Monday. Then she listened to her second message. It was from a man who identified himself as Robert Collins from Hideaway Resorts, who invited her to a complimentary dinner for prospective timeshare investors at a hotel in Minneapolis. Hannah didn't bother to write down his toll-free number.

The third message made Hannah perk up her ears. It was from Bill and he told her that he just wanted to keep her up to speed. The manager from Compacts Unlimited had contacted him this morning. Since she still didn't have the printout, she'd called all their other car lots and one of them had handled a rental for a customer with a Lake Eden address. Boyd Watson had rented a black compact from their St. Paul lot on Tuesday.