CHOCOLATECHIPCRIMESCENE

Hannah stopped severalfeetfromthetruckandcalledout, “Hi, Ron. Do you wantmetophoneforatowtruck?”Rondidn’tanswer.Hannah

walked closer, called out

again, andmoved around thedoor to glance inside thetruck.The sight that greeted

Hannahmade her jump backand swallow hard. RonLaSalle, Lake Eden’s localfootball hero, was lying faceupontheseatofhisdeliverytruck. His white hat was onthe floorboard, the orders onhis clipboardwere rattling inthe wind, and one ofHannah’s cookie bags was

open on the seat. ChocolateChip Crunchies werescattered everywhere, andHannah’s eyes widened asshe realized he was stillholdingoneofhercookiesinhishand.At first Hannah’s shocked

mind refused tobelievewhatshe was seeing. Ron’s bodywasstiffandlifeless,anyfoolcould see that, and he haddiedeatingoneofhercookies...

BooksbyJoanneFluke

CHOCOLATECHIPCOOKIEMURDER

STRAWBERRY

SHORTCAKEMURDER

BLUEBERRYMUFFINMURDER

LEMONMERINGUEPIE

MURDER

FUDGECUPCAKEMURDER

SUGARCOOKIEMURDER

PEACHCOBBLERMURDER

CHERRYCHEESECAKEMURDER

KEYLIMEPIEMURDERCANDYCANEMURDERCARROTCAKEMURDERCREAMPUFFMURDER

PLUMPUDDINGMURDER

APPLETURNOVER

MURDERPublishedbyKensingtonPublishingCorporation

CHOCOLATECHIPCOOKIEMURDER

AHannahSwensenMystery

JOANNEFLUKE

KENSINGTONBOOKShttp://www.kensingtonbooks.com

AllcopyrightedmaterialwithinisAttributorProtected.

TableofContents

CHOCOLATE CHIP

CRIMESCENE

BooksbyJoanneFluke

TitlePage

Dedication

ChapterOne

ChapterTwo

ChapterThree

ChapterFour

ChapterFive

ChapterSix

ChapterSeven

ChapterEight

ChapterNine

ChapterTen

ChapterEleven

ChapterTwelve

ChapterThirteen

ChapterFourteen

ChapterFifteen

ChapterSixteen

ChapterSeventeen

ChapterEighteen

ChapterNineteen

ChapterTwenty

ChapterTwenty-One

ChapterTwenty-Two

ChapterTwenty-Three

ChapterTwenty-Four

ChapterTwenty-Five

ChapterTwenty-Six

Epilogue

IndexofCookieRecipes

BakingConversionChart

CANDYFORCHRISTMAS

CopyrightPage

Thisspecialeditionisforournewestspecialaddition,

KathrynGrace.

ChapterOne

Hannah Swensen slippedinto the old leather bomberjacketthatshe’drescuedfromtheHelpingHandsthriftstoreand reacheddown topickupthe huge orange tomcat thatwas rubbing against her

ankles. “Okay, Moishe. Youcanhaveonerefill,butthat’situntiltonight.”AsshecarriedMoisheinto

thekitchenandsethimdownby his food bowl, Hannahremembered the day he’d setup camp outside her condodoor. He’d looked positivelydisreputable, covered withmatted fur and grime, andshe’d immediately taken himin. Who else would adopt atwenty-five-pound, half-blind

cat with a torn ear? Hannahhad named himMoishe, andthough he certainly wouldn’thave won any prizes at theLake Eden Cat Fanciers’Club, there had been aninstant bond between them.They were both battle-worn—Hannah from weeklyconfrontations with hermother, andMoishe fromhishardlifeonthestreets.Moishe rumbled in

contentment asHannah filled

hisbowl.Heseemedproperlygratefulthathenolongerhadto scrounge for food andshelter and he showed hisappreciation in countlessways. Just this morning,Hannah had found thehindquarters of a mouse inthe center of the kitchentable, right next to thedrooping African violet thatshe kept forgetting to water.While most of her femalecontemporaries would have

screamed for their husbandsto remove the disgustingsight, Hannah had picked upthe carcass by the tail andpraised Moishe lavishly forkeeping her condo rodent-free.“Seeyoutonight,Moishe.”

Hannah gave him anaffectionate pat and snatcheduphercarkeys.Shewasjustpullingonher leathergloves,preparing to leave, when thephonerang.

Hannah glanced at theapple-shaped wall clock,whichshe’dfoundatagaragesale. ItwasonlysixA.M.Hermother wouldn’t call thisearly,wouldshe?Moishelookedupfromhis

bowlwith an expression thatHannah interpreted assympathy. He didn’t likeDelores Swensen and he haddone nothing to hide hisfeelings when she’d droppedin for surprise visits at her

daughter’s condo. Aftersuffering through severalpairs of shredded pantyhose,Delores had decided that shewouldlimithersocializingtotheir Tuesday-night mother-daughterdinners.Hannah picked up the

phone, cutting off theanswering machine inmidmessage, and sighed assheheardhermother’svoice.“Hello,Mother. I’m ready towalk out the door, so we’ll

have to keep this short. I’malreadylateforwork.”Moishe raised his tail and

shook it, pointing hisposterior at the phone.Hannahstifledagiggleathisantics and gave him aconspiratorial wink. “No,Mother,Ididn’tgiveNormanmy phone number. If hewants to contact me, he’llhavetolookitup.”Hannah frowned as her

motherwentintoherfamiliar

litany on the proper way toattract a man. Their dinnerlastnighthadbeenadisaster.When she’d arrived at hermother’s house, Hannah hadencountered two additionalguests: her mother’s newlywidowed neighbor, Mrs.Carrie Rhodes, and her son,Norman. Hannah had beenobligated to make politeconversation with Normanover sickeningly sweetHawaiian pot roast and a

chocolate-covered nut cakefromtheRedOwlGroceryastheir respective mothersbeamedhappilyandremarkedon what a charming coupletheymade.“Look, Mother, I really

haveto. . .”Hannahstoppedand rolled her eyes at theceiling. Once Delores gotstarted on a subject, it wasimpossible to get a word inedgewise. Her motherbelieved that a woman

approaching thirty ought tobemarried, and even thoughHannah had argued that shelikedher life theway itwas,it hadn’t prevented Deloresfromintroducinghertoeverysingle,widowed, or divorcedman who’d set foot in LakeEden.“Yes, Mother. Norman

seems very nice, but . . .”Hannahwincedashermothercontinued to wax eloquentover Norman’s good

qualities. What on earth hadconvinced Delores that hereldest daughter would beinterestedinabaldingdentist,several years her senior,whose favorite topic ofconversation was gumdisease?“Excuseme,Mother,butI’mrunninglateand...”Moishe seemed to sense

that his mistress wasfrustratedbecausehereachedoutwithoneorangepawandflipped over his food bowl.

Hannah stared at him insurprise for a moment, andthenshebegantogrin.“Gotta run, Mother.

MoishejustknockedoverhisfoodbowlandI’vegotMeowMix all over the floor.”Hannah cut off her mother’scomments about Norman’searning capabilities inmidbreath and hung up thephone.Thenshesweptupthecat food, dumped it in thetrash, and poured in fresh

foodforMoishe.Sheaddedacouple of kitty treats,Moishe’srewardforbeingsoclever,andlefthimmunchingcontentedlyassherushedoutthedoor.Hannah hurried down the

steps to the undergroundgarage, unlocked the door toher truck, and climbed inbehind the wheel. Whenshe’d opened her business,she’d bought a used ChevySuburban from Cyril

Murphy’s car lot. She’dpainted it candy-apple red, acolor that was sure to attractnotice wherever it wasparked, and arranged for thename of her business—TheCookie Jar—to be painted ingold letters on the frontdoors. She’d even ordered avanitylicenseplatethatread:“COOKIES.”As Hannah drove up the

rampthatledtogroundlevel,she met her next-door

neighbor coming home. PhilPlotnik worked nights atDelRay Manufacturing, andHannah rolled down thewindow to pass on thewarning that their waterwouldbeshutoffbetweentenandnoon.Then she used hergatecard toexit thecomplexand turned North onto OldLakeRoad.The interstate ran past

Lake Eden, but most of thelocalsusedOldLakeRoadto

gettotown.Itwasthescenicroute, winding around EdenLake. When the touristsarrived in the summer, someofthemwereconfusedbythenames. Hannah alwaysexplained it with a smilewhen they asked. The lakewasnamed“EdenLake,”andthe town that nestled next toits shore was called “LakeEden.”Therewasarealnipinthe

air thismorning, not unusual

forthethirdweekinOctober.Autumn was brief inMinnesota, a few weeks ofturning leaves that causedeveryonetosnapphotographsof the deep reds, gaudyoranges, and bright yellows.After the last leaf had fallen,leaving the branches starkand bare against the leadenskies, the cold north windswouldstarttoblow.Thenthefirstsnowfallwouldarrive tothedelightofthechildrenand

the stoic sighs of the adults.While sledding, ice-skatingandsnowball fightsmightbefun for the kids, winter alsomeant mounds of snow thathad to be shoveled, virtualisolationwhentheroadswerebad, and temperatures thatfrequently dropped down tothirty or even forty belowzero.The summer people had

leftEdenLakerightafter theLaborDayweekendtoreturn

totheirsnugwinterhomesinthecities.Theircabinsonthelakeshore stood vacant, theirpipeswrappedwithinsulationtokeepthemfromfreezinginthe subzero wintertemperatures, and theirwindows boarded up againstthe icy winds that sweptacross the frozen surface ofthelake.Nowonlythelocalswere in residence and thepopulation of Lake Eden,whichnearlyquadrupledover

the summer months, wasdown to less than threethousand.As she idled at the

stoplight on Old Lake Roadand Dairy Avenue, Hannahsaw a familiar sight. RonLaSalle was standing by thedockoftheCozyCowDairy,loading his truck for hiscommercial route. By thistimeofthemorning,Ronhadfinished delivering dairyproducts to his residential

customers,placingtheirmilk,cream, and eggs in theinsulated boxes the dairyprovided. The boxes were anecessity inMinnesota.Theykept the contents cool in thesummer and protected themfromfreezinginthewinter.Ron was cupping his jaw

with one hand and his posewas pensive, as if he werecontemplating things moreseriousthantheordershehadyet todeliver.Hannahwould

be seeing him later,when hedelivered her supplies, andshemadeamentalnotetoaskhimwhat he’d been thinkingabout.Ronpridedhimselfonhis punctuality and the CozyCow truck would pull up ather back door at preciselyseven thirty-five. After Ronhaddeliveredherdailyorder,he’d come into the coffeeshopforaquickcupofcoffeeand a warm cookie. Hannahwould seehimagain at three

in the afternoon, right afterhe’dfinishedhis routes.Thatwas when he picked up hisstanding order, a dozencookiestogo.Ronkepttheminhis truckovernight so thathe could have cookies forbreakfastthenextmorning.Ronlookedup,spottedher

at the stoplight, and raisedone hand in awave.Hannahgavehimatootofherhornasthelightturnedgreenandshedrove on by. With his dark

wavy hair and well-muscledbody,Ronwascertainlyeasyon the eyes. Hannah’syoungest sister, Michelle,sworethatRonwaseverybitas handsome as Tom Cruiseand she’dbeendying todatehim when she was in highschool. Even now, whenMichelle came home fromMacalesterCollege,sheneverfailedtoaskaboutRon.Three years ago, everyone

had expected the star

quarterbackoftheLakeEdenGulls to be drafted by thepros, but Ron had torn aligament in thefinalgameofhishighschoolcareer,endinghis hopes for a spotwith theMinnesota Vikings. ThereweretimeswhenHannahfeltsorry for Ron. She was surethat driving a Cozy Cowdelivery truck wasn’t theglorious future he’denvisioned for himself. ButRon was still a local hero.

Everyone in Lake Edenremembered his remarkablegame-winning touchdown atthe state championships. Thetrophy he’d won was ondisplay in a glass case at thehigh school and hevolunteered his time as anunpaidassistantcoachfortheLake Eden Gulls. Perhaps itwasbettertobeabigfishinalittle pond than a third-stringquarterbackwhowarmed theVikings’bench.

No one else was on thestreets thisearly,butHannahmade sure that herspeedometer readwell belowthe twenty-five-mile limit.Herb Beeseman, their locallaw enforcement officer,wasknown to lie in wait forunwary residents who weretempted to tread too heavilyon the accelerator. ThoughHannah had never been therecipient of one of Herb’sspeeding tickets, her mother

was still livid about the finethat Marge Beeseman’syoungest son had leviedagainsther.Hannah turned at the

corner of Main and Fourthand drove into the alleybehind her shop. The squarewhite building sported twoparking spots, and Hannahpulled her truck into one ofthem. She didn’t bother tounwind the cord that waswrapped around her front

bumper and plug it into thestrip of power outlets on therearwallofthebuilding.Thesun was shining and theannouncer on the radio hadpromised that thetemperatureswouldreach thehighforties today.Therewasno need to use her head boltheaterforanotherfewweeks,but when winter arrived andthe mercury dropped belowfreezing, she’d need it toensure that her enginewould

start.Once she’d opened the

door and slid out of herSuburban, Hannah locked itcarefully behind her. Therewasn’t much crime in LakeEden, but Herb Beesemanalso left tickets on anyvehicle that he found parkedand unlocked. Before shecould cover the distance tothe rear door of the bakery,Claire Rodgers pulled up inher little blue Toyota and

parked in back of the tanbuilding next to Hannah’sshop.Hannahstoppedandwaited

for Claire to get out of hercar. She likedClaire and shedidn’tbelievetherumorsthatfloatedaroundtownaboutheraffair with the mayor. “Hi,Claire. You’re here earlytoday.”“I just got in a new

shipmentofpartydressesandthey have to be priced.”

Claire’s classically beautifulface lit up in a smile. “Theholidays are coming, youknow.”Hannah nodded. She

wasn’t looking forward toThanksgiving and Christmaswith her mother and sisters,but itwas an ordeal that hadtobeendured for thesakeoffamilypeace.“You should stop by,

Hannah.” Claire gave her anappraising look, taking in the

bomber jacket that had seenbetter days and the old woolwatch cap that Hannah hadpulled over her frizzy redcurls.“Ihaveastunninglittleblack cocktail dress thatwoulddowondersforyou.”Hannah smiled and

nodded, but she had all shecould do to keep fromlaughing as Claire unlockedthe reardoor toBeauMondeFashions and stepped inside.Where could she wear a

cocktail dress in Lake Eden?No one hosted any cocktailparties and the only upscalerestaurantintownhadcloseddown right after the touristshad left. Hannah couldn’tremember the last timeshe’dgone out to a fancy dinner.For that matter, she couldn’tremember the last time thatanyone had asked her out onadate.Hannah unlocked her back

doorandpusheditopen.The

sweetsmellofcinnamonandmolassesgreetedher,andshebegan to smile. She’dmixedup several batches of cookiedoughlastnightandthescentstill lingered. She flipped onthelights,hungher jacketonthe hook by the door, andfiredupthetwoindustrialgasovens that sat against thebackwall.Herassistant,LisaHerman, would be here atseven-thirty to start thebaking.

The next half hour passedquickly as Hannah chopped,melted,measured, andmixedingredients. By trial anderror, she’d found that hercookies tasted better if shelimitedherselftobatchesthatshe could mix by hand. Herrecipes were originals,developed in her mother’skitchen when she was ateenager. Delores thoughtbakingwasachoreandshe’dbeen happy to delegate that

tasktohereldestdaughtersothat she could devote all ofher energies to collectingantiques.At ten past seven,Hannah

carried the last bowl ofcookie dough to the coolerandstackedtheutensilsshe’dused in her industrial-sizeddishwasher. She hung up herwork apron, removed thepapercapshe’dusedtocoverher curls, and headed off tothe coffee shop to start the

coffee.Aswingingrestaurant-style

door separated the bakeryfromthecoffeeshop.Hannahpushed it open and steppedinside, flipping on the old-fashionedglobefixturesshe’dsalvaged from a defunct ice-creamparlorinaneighboringtown.Shewalkedtothefrontwindows, pulled aside thechintz curtains, and surveyedthe length of Main Street.Nothing was moving; it was

still too early, but Hannahknewthatwithinthehour,thechairs that surrounded thesmallroundtablesinhershopwould be filled withcustomers. The Cookie Jarwas a meeting place for thelocals, a choice spot toexchangegossipandplanoutthe day over heavy whitemugs of strong coffee andfreshly baked cookies fromherovens.The stainless-steel coffee

urn gleamed brightly andHannahsmiledasshefilleditwithwater andmeasured outthecoffee.Lisahadscouredityesterday, restoring it to itsformer splendor. Lisa was apuregodsendwhenitcametorunning the bakery and thecoffee shop. She saw whatneeded to be done, did itwithoutbeingasked,andhadeven come up with a fewcookie recipes of her own toadd toHannah’s files. Itwas

a real pity that Lisa hadn’tused her academicscholarship to go on tocollege, but her father, JackHerman, was suffering fromAlzheimer’s and Lisa haddecided to stay home to takecareofhim.Hannah removed three

eggs from the refrigeratorbehind the counter anddropped them, shells and all,into thebowlwith thecoffeegrounds. Then she broke

them open with a heavyspoon and added a dash ofsalt.Onceshe’dmixeduptheeggs and shells with thecoffee grounds, Hannahscraped the contents of thebowl into the basket andflipped on the switch to startthecoffee.A few minutes later, the

coffee began to perk andHannah sniffed the airappreciatively. Nothingsmelled better than freshly

brewed coffee, and everyonein Lake Eden said that hercoffee was the best. Hannahtiedontheprettychintzapronshe wore for serving hercustomers and ducked backthrough the swingingdoor togiveLisaherinstructions.“Bake the Chocolate Chip

Crunchesfirst,Lisa.”HannahgaveLisaawelcomingsmile.“They’re already in the

ovens, Hannah.” Lisa lookedup from the stainless-steel

work surface,where shewasscooping out dough with amelon-baller and placing theperfectlyroundspheresintoasmall bowl filledwith sugar.She was only nineteen, tenyears younger than Hannahwas, andherpetite formwascompletely swaddled in thehugewhitebaker’sapronshewore. “I’m working on theMolasses Crackles for theBoy Scout Awards Banquetnow.”

Hannah had originallyhiredLisaasawaitress,butithadn’t taken her long to seethat Lisa was capable ofmuch more than pouringcoffee and serving cookies.At the end of the firstweek,Hannah had increased Lisa’shours from part-time to full-time and taught her to bake.Now they handled thebusinesstogether,asateam.“How’s your father

today?” Hannah’s voice held

asympatheticnote.“Today’sagoodday.”Lisa

placed the unbaked tray ofMolasses Crackles on thebaker’srack.“Mr.Drevlowistaking him to the Seniors’Group at Holy RedeemerLutheran.”“ButI thoughtyourfamily

wasCatholic.”“We are, but Dad doesn’t

remember that. Besides, Idon’t see how having lunchwith the Lutherans could

possiblyhurt.”“Neither do I. And it’s

good for him to get out andsocializewithhisfriends.”“That’sexactlywhatI told

Father Coultas. If God gaveDadAlzheimer’s,He’sgottounderstandwhenDad forgetswhat church he belongs to.”Lisa walked to the oven,switched off the timer, andpulledoutatrayofChocolateChip Crunches. “I’ll bringthese in as soon as they’re

cool.”“Thanks.” Hannah went

back through the swingingdoor again and unlocked thestreetdoortothecoffeeshop.Sheflippedthe“Closed”signinthewindowto“Open,”andchecked the cash register tomakesuretherewasplentyofchange. She’d just finishedsetting out small baskets ofsugar packets and artificialsweetenerswhenalate-modeldarkgreenVolvopulledupin

thespotbythefrontdoor.Hannah frowned as the

driver’s door opened and hermiddlesister,Andrea,slidoutof the driver’s seat. Andrealooked perfectly gorgeous ina green tweed jacket withpolitically correct fake furaround the collar. Her blondhair was swept up in ashiningknotonthetopofherhead and she could havestepped from the pages of aglamour magazine. Even

though Hannah’s friendsinsisted that she was prettyenough, just being in thesame town with Andreaalways made Hannah feelhopelessly frumpy andunsophisticated.Andrea had married Bill

Todd, a Winnetka Countydeputy sheriff, right aftershe’d graduated from highschool. They had onedaughter, Tracey, who hadturned four last month. Bill

was a good father on hishoursawayfromthesheriff’sstation,butAndreahadneverbeen cut out to be a stay-at-home mom. When Traceywas only six months old,Andrea had decided thatthey’d needed two incomesandshe’dgonetoworkasanagentatLakeEdenRealty.The bell on the door

tinkled and Andrea blew inwith a chill blast of autumnwind, hauling Tracey behind

herbythehand.“ThankGodyou’rehere,Hannah!I’vegota property to show and I’mlateformyappointmentattheCut’nCurl.”“It’s only eight, Andrea.”

Hannah boosted Tracey upontoastoolatthecounterandwenttotherefrigeratortogether a glass of milk. “Bertiedoesn’topenuntilnine.”“Iknow,butshesaidshe’d

come in early for me. I’mshowing the old Peterson

farmthismorning.IfIsellit,Icanordernewcarpetingforthemasterbedroom.”“The Peterson farm?”

Hannah turned tostareathersister in shock.“Who’dwanttobuythatoldwreck?”“It’s not awreck,Hannah.

It’s a fixer-upper. And mybuyer, Mr. Harris, has thefunds to make it into a realshowplace.”“But why?” Hannah was

honestly puzzled. The

Peterson place had beenvacant for twenty years.She’d ridden her bicycle outthereasachildanditwasjustan old two-story farmhouseonseveralacresofovergrownfarmland that adjoined theCozy Cow Dairy. “Yourbuyer must be crazy if hewants it. The land’spractically worthless. OldmanPeterson tried to farm itfor years and the only thingshecouldgrowwererocks.”

Andrea straightened thecollar of her jacket. “Theclient knows that, Hannah,and he doesn’t care. He’sonly interested in thefarmhouse. It’s stillstructurallysoundandithasaniceviewofthelake.”“It’s sitting smack-dab in

the middle of a hollow,Andrea.Youcanonlyseethelakefromthetopoftheroof.Whatdoesyourbuyerplantodo, climb up on a ladder

every timehewants toenjoytheview?”“Not exactly, but it

amounts to the same thing.Hetoldmethathe’sgoingtoput on a third story andconvert the property to ahobbyfarm.”“Ahobbyfarm?”“That’s a second home in

the country for city peoplewho want to be farmerswithout doing any of thework. He’ll hire a local

farmer to take care of hisanimals and keep up theland.”“I see,” Hannah said,

holding back a grin. By herowndefinition,Andreawasahobby wife and a hobbymother. Her sister hired alocal woman to come in tocleanandcookthemeals,andshepaidbaby-sittersandday-care workers to take care ofTracey.“You’ll watch Tracey for

me, won’t you, Hannah?”Andrea looked anxious. “Iknow she’s a bother, but it’sonly for an hour. KiddieKorneropensatnine.”Hannah thought about

giving her sister a piece ofhermind. Shewas running abusinessandhershopwasn’ta day-care center. But oneglance at Tracey’s hopefulface changed her mind. “Goahead, Andrea. Tracey canworkformeuntilit’stimefor

hertogotopreschool.”“Thanks,Hannah.”Andrea

turnedandstarted toward thedoor. “I knew I could countonyou.”“Can I really work, Aunt

Hannah?” Tracey asked inher soft little voice, andHannahgaveherareassuringsmile.“Yes, you can. I need

someone to be my officialtaster.Lisajustbakedabatchof Chocolate Chip Crunches

andIneedtoknowifthey’regood enough to serve to mycustomers.”“Did you say chocolate?”

Andrea turned back at thedoor to frown at Hannah.“Traceycan’thavechocolate.Itmakesherhyperactive.”Hannah nodded, but she

gave Tracey a conspiratorialwink. “I’ll remember that,Andrea.”“I’llseeyoulater,Tracey,”

Andrea said and blew her

daughter a kiss. “Don’t beany trouble for your auntHannah,okay?”Tracey waited until the

door had closed behind hermotherandthensheturnedtoHannah. “What’shyperactive,AuntHannah?”“It’sanotherwordforwhat

kids do when they’re havingfun.”Hannah came out frombehind the counter and liftedTracey off the stool. “Comeon, honey. Let’s go in the

back and see if thoseChocolateChipCrunchesarecool enough for you tosample.”Lisa was just slipping

another tray of cookies intothe oven when Hannah andTracey came in. She gaveTracey a hug, handed her acookiefromthetraythatwascooling on the rack, andturned to Hannah with afrown. “Ron hasn’t come inyet.Doyousupposehe’sout

sick?”“Not unless it came on

suddenly.”Hannahglancedatthe clock on thewall. Itwaseight-fifteen and Ron wasalmost forty-five minuteslate. “I saw him two hoursago when I drove past thedairy,andhelookedjustfinetome.”“I saw him, too, Aunt

Hannah.” Tracey tugged onHannah’sarm.“Youdid?Whenwas that,

Tracey?”“The cow truck went by

when I was waiting outsidethe realty office.Mr.LaSallewavedatmeandhegavemea funny smile. And thenAndrea came out with herpapers and we came to seeyou.”“Andrea?” Hannah looked

downathernieceinsurprise.“Shedoesn’tlikemetocall

her Mommy anymorebecause it’s a label and she

hates labels,” Tracey did herbest to explain. “I’msupposed to call her Andrea,justlikeeverybodyelse.”Hannah sighed. Perhaps it

was time to have a talkwithher sister about theresponsibilities ofmotherhood. “Are you sureyousawtheCozyCowtruck,Tracey?”“Yes, Aunt Hannah.”

Tracey’s blond head bobbedup and down confidently. “It

turned at your corner andwentintothealley.AndthenI heard itmake a loud bang,just likeDaddy’scar. Iknewit came from the cow truckbecause there weren’t anyothercars.”Hannahknewexactlywhat

Traceymeant.Bill’soldFordwas on its last legs and itbackfiredeverytimeheeasedup on the gas. “Ron’sprobably out there tinkeringwith his truck. I’ll go and

see.”“Can I come with Aunt

Hannah?”“Stay with me, Tracey,”

LisaspokeupbeforeHannahcould answer. “You canhelpmelistenforthebellandwaiton any customers that comeintothecoffeeshop.”Tracey looked pleased.

“Can I bring them theircookies,Lisa?Justlikearealwaitress?”“Absolutely,but it’sgot to

be our secret. We wouldn’twant your dad to bust us forviolating the child-laborlaws.”“What does ‘bust’ mean,

Lisa? And why would mydaddydoit?”Hannah grinned as she

slipped into her jacket andlistenedtoLisa’sexplanation.Tracey questionedeverything, and it droveAndreatodistraction.Hannahhadattemptedtotellhersister

that an inquiringmindwas asign of intelligence, butAndrea just didn’t have thenecessary patience to dealwithherbrightfour-year-old.AsHannahpulledopenthe

doorandsteppedout,shewasgreeted by a strong gust ofwindthatnearlythrewheroffbalance.Shepushed thedoorshut behind her, shielded hereyes from the blowingwind,and walked forward to peerdown the alley. Ron’s

delivery truck was parkedsideways near the mouth ofthealley,blocking theaccessin both directions. Thedriver’s door was partiallyopen and Ron’s legs weredanglingout.Hannah moved forward,

assuming that Ron wasstretched out on the seat towork on the wiring that ranunder the dash. She didn’twant tostartlehimandcausehimtobumphishead,soshe

stoppedseveral feet from thetruck and called out. “Hi,Ron. Do you want me tophoneforatowtruck?”Ron didn’t answer. The

windwaswhistlingdownthealley, rattling the lids on themetal Dumpsters, andperhaps he hadn’t heard her.Hannahwalkedcloser,calledoutagain, andmovedaroundthe door to glance inside thetruck.The sight that greeted

Hannahmade her jump backand swallow hard. RonLaSalle, Lake Eden’s localfootball hero, was lyingfaceup on the seat of hisdelivery truck. His white hatwas on the floorboards, theorders on his clipboard wererattling in the wind, and oneofHannah’scookiebagswasopen on the seat. ChocolateChipCruncheswerescatteredeverywhere, and Hannah’seyeswidened as she realized

that he was still holding oneofhercookiesinhishand.Then Hannah’s eyes

movedupandshesawit:theuglyhole,ringedwithpowderburns in the very center ofRon’s Cozy Cow deliveryshirt. Ron LaSalle had beenshotdead.

ChapterTwo

It wasn’t the way thatHannah preferred to attractnew clientele, but she had toadmitthatfindingRon’sbodyhad been good for business.The Cookie Jar was jam-packedwithcustomers.Some

of them were even standingwhile they munched theircookies, and every one ofthem wanted her opinion onwhat had happened to RonLaSalle.Hannah looked up as the

belltinkledandAndreacamein.ShelookedmadenoughtokillandHannahsighed.“Wehavetotalk!”Andrea

slipped around the counterand grabbed her arm. “Now,Hannah!”

“I can’t talk to you now,Andrea.Ihavecustomers.”“‘Ghouls’ismorelikeit!”

Andrea spoke in anundertone, surveying thecrowd that was eyeing themcuriously. She gave a tightlittlesmile,amereturningupofherlipsthatwouldn’thavefooled anyone with itssincerity, and her griptightened on Hannah’s arm.“Call Lisa to handle thecounterandtakeabreak.It’s

important,Hannah!”Hannah nodded. Andrea

looked terribly upset. “Okay.Go tellLisa to comeuphereand I’ll join you back in thebakery.”The switch was

accomplished quickly, andonceshe’dslippedbacktothebakery, Hannah found hersister perched on a stool atthework island in the centerof the room. Andrea wasstaring at the ovens as if

she’d just encountered ahibernating grizzly, andHannah was alarmed. “Isthere something wrong withtheovens?”“Notexactly.Lisasaidthat

the timer’s about to go offandthecookieshavetocomeout.You know I don’t bake,Hannah.”“I’lldoit.”Hannahgrinned

as she handed her sister anindividual carton of orangejuice. Her sister would be

more at home in a foreigncountry than she was in akitchen. Andrea’s culinaryeffortswerealwaysdisasters.Until she’d gone back towork and hired someone tocome in to cook the meals,the Todd family had eatennothing but microwavedinners.Hannah grabbed a pair of

oven mitts and removed thetrays from the ovens. Shereplaced them with the

unbaked Oatmeal RaisinCrispsthatLisahadpreparedand then she pulled up asecond stool and joined hersister at the work island.“What’swrong,Andrea?”“It’s Tracey. Janice Cox

just paged me from KiddieKorner. She said Tracey’stelling all of her classmatesthatshesawRon’sbody.”“That’strue—shedid.”“How could you,

Hannah?” Andrea looked

positivelybetrayed.“Tracey’simpressionable, just like me.It’s liable to scar her psycheforlife!”Hannah reached out and

opened the carton of orangejuice,slippingthelittleplasticstraw inside. “Take a sip,Andrea.You look faint. Andtrytorelax.”“HowcanIrelaxwhenyou

exposed my daughter to amurdervictim?”“I didn’t expose her. Bill

did.And all Tracey sawwasthe body bag. They wereloading it into the coroner’svanwhenhetookherovertothepreschool.”“Then she didn’t actually

seeRon.”“Not unless she has X-ray

vision. You can ask Billabout it. He’s still out in thealley securing the crimescene.”“I’ll talk to him later.”

Andrea took a sip of her

orangejuiceandalittlecolorcame back into her cheeks.“I’m sorry,Hannah. I shouldhave known that youwouldn’t do anything to hurtTracey. Sometimes I thinkthatyou’reabettermothertoherthanIam.”Hannah bit her tongue.

This wasn’t the time to giveAndreaalectureabouthowtoraise her daughter. “Traceylovesyou,Andrea.”“I know, but motherhood

doesn’tcomenaturallytome.That’s why I hired the bestbaby-sitters I could find andwenttowork.IthoughtthatifI had a real career, it wouldmake Bill and Tracey proudof me, but it’s just notworkingout theway Ihopeditwould.”Hannah nodded,

recognizing the real reasonbehind her sister’s unusualcandor. “Your sale fellthrough?”

“Yes. He decided thepropertywasn’trightforhim.And when I offered to showhim some of my otherlistings, he wouldn’t evenlook. I really wanted thatcarpet, Hannah. It wasgorgeous and it would havegiven my bedroom a wholenewlook.”“Next time, Andrea.”

Hannah gave her anencouragingsmile.“You’reagoodsalesman.”

“Not good enough toconvince Mr. Harris. I canusually spot a Looky-Lou amileoff,butI’mbeginningtothink that he was neverserious about buying the oldPetersonplace.”Hannahgotuptohandher

aChocolateChipCrunchthatwas still slightly warm fromtheoven.Andreahad alwaysloved Chocolate ChipCrunchesandHannahmadeamentalnotetoremindBillnot

tomentionthatRonhadbeeneating them right before hedied. “Eat this, Andrea.You’llfeelbetterwithalittlechocolateinyoursystem.”“Maybe.” Andrea took a

biteof thecookieandgaveasmallsmile.“Ijustlovethesecookies, Hannah. Do youremember the first time youmadethemforme?”“I remember,” Hannah

answeredwithasmile.Ithadbeen a rainy day in

September and Andrea hadstayed after school forcheerleading tryouts. Sincethere’d never been afreshman cheerleader on thevarsity squad,Hannahhadn’theld out much hope thatAndrea would make it. SoHannah had rushed homefrom school to makechocolate chip oatmealcookies forher sister,hopingto take the sting out ofAndrea’sdisappointment,but

she hadn’t checked to makesure she had all theingredients before she’dstarted to mix up the dough.The oatmeal canister hadbeen empty and Hannah hadcrushed up some corn flakesas a substitute. The resultingcookies had been wonderful,Andrea had made thecheerleadingsquad,andshe’draved about Hannah’sChocolate Chip Cruncheseversince.

“I guess there was no realway of knowing that he wasjust window-shopping.”Andrea took another bite ofher cookie and sighed. “Heseemed like a real buyer.Even Al Percy thought so. Imean,wedidn’tevenhavetosolicithim.Hecametous!”Hannah realized that it

might be good forAndrea totalk about herdisappointment. “How longagowasthat?”

“Three weeks ago onTuesday. He said he reallyliked the house, that it had asense of history about it. Itook him inside and he wasevenmoreimpressed.”“But you couldn’t get him

tomakeanoffer?”“No, he said he needed to

workout somedetails first. Ifigured that it was just anexcuse and I wrote him off.Sometimes people don’t liketo say no and they give you

some sort of lame excuse. Ireally didn’t think I’d hearfromhimagain,buthecalledmelastweekandsaidhewasstillinterested.”Hannah decided that some

sisterlycomfortwasinorder.“Maybe he really wanted tobuy, but he couldn’t affordit.”“I don’t think so. He told

me that money wasn’t theproblem, that he’d justdecided itwouldn’t suit him.

And then he got into hisrentalcaranddroveaway.”“Hewasdrivingarental?”“Yes, he said he didn’t

wanttodamagehisJaguarbydriving it over gravel roads.For all I know, he doesn’teven have a Jaguar. If I everseeamaninarugagain,I’mnot going to believe a singleword he says! A man wholiesabouthavinghairwilllieaboutanything.”Hannah laughed and went

to take the Oatmeal RaisinChews out of the ovens.When she turned, her sisterwasstandinguptogo.“I’ve got to run,” Andrea

announced. “Mother told methatMrs.Robbins is thinkingabout moving to theLakeviewSeniorApartments.I thought I’d drop in for avisitandseeifIcanconvincehertolistherhousewithme.”Hannah immediately felt

better. Andrea seemed to

have recovered her self-confidence.“I’ll just say hello to Bill

andseeifhecanpickTraceyup after preschool. And Isuppose I’d better findsomething to take to Mrs.Robbins. It’s not veryneighborly to arrive empty-handed.”“Take these. They’re her

favorites.”Hannah filled oneof her special cookie bagswith a half-dozen Molasses

Crackles. The bags lookedlikeminiature shopping bagsandtheyhadredhandleswith“TheCookie Jar” stamped ingoldletteringonthefront.“This is really sweet of

you.” Andrea soundedgrateful. “I don’t say itenough, but you’re awonderful sister. I don’tknowwhatIwouldhavedoneif you hadn’t come backwhenDaddied.Motherwasabasket case and Michelle

didn’t knowwhat to dowithher. I tried to run back andforth, but Tracey was just ababyandI justcouldn’tkeepitup.AllIcouldthinkofwascalling you and begging youto come home to bail us allout.”Hannah gave Andrea a

quickhug.“Youdidtherightthing. I’m the big sister andyou were practically anewlywed. It was myresponsibilitytohelp.”

“But sometimes I feelreally guilty about callingyou. You had your own lifeandyougaveitallupforus.”Hannah turned away to

hidethesuddenmoisturethatsprang to her eyes. Perhapslosing a sale was good forAndrea.She’dneverbeenthisappreciative before. “Youdon’t have to feel guilty,Andrea.Cominghomewasn’ta sacrifice onmypart. Iwashavingdoubts about teaching

and I really wanted to dosomethingdifferent.”“But youwere so close to

getting your doctorate. Youcould have been a professorby now at a really gooduniversity.”“Maybe.” Hannah

shrugged, conceding thepoint. “Butbakingcookies isa lotmore fun than giving alecture on iambic pentameteror being stuck in a deadlydullfacultymeeting.Andyou

know how much I love TheCookieJar.”“Thenyou’rehappyherein

LakeEden?”“Mybusinessisgreat,I’ve

gotmyownplace,andIdon’thave to live with Mother.Whatcouldbebetter?”Andrea started to smile.

“There’s something to that,especially the part about notlivingwithMother.Butwhataboutromance?”“Don’t push it, Andrea.”

Hannah gave her a warninglook.“Iftherightmancomesalong, that’sgreat.And if hedoesn’t, that’s fine too. I’mperfectly content to live bymyself.”“Okay, if you’re sure.”

Andrea looked very relievedassheheadedforthedoor.“I’m sure.Good luckwith

Mrs.Robbins.”“I’ll need it.” Andrea

turned back with a grin. “Ifshe starts bragging about her

son, the doctor, I’ll probablythrowup.”Hannahknewexactlywhat

her sister meant. Mrs.Robbins had come into hercookieshoplastweek,fullofpraise about her son, thedoctor. According to hismother, Dr. Jerry Robbinswas about to discover thecure for multiple sclerosis,cancer,andthecommoncoldallinonefellswoop.

“I need to ask you somequestions, Hannah.” Billstuckhisheadintothecoffeeshopandmotionedtoher.“Sure, Bill.” Hannah

handed her apron to Lisa,grabbed two mugs of strongblack coffee, and followedhim into the back room. Ontheway,sheadmiredthewayhis tan uniform shirt fitsmoothly over his broad

shoulders. Bill had been afootballplayerinhighschool,never as famous as RonLaSalle, but he’d helped towinhisshareofgames.Nowhis waist was thicker, theresultoftoomanychocolate-covered doughnuts from theQuick Stop on his commutetothesheriff’sstation,buthewasstillahandsomeman.“Thanks for the coffee,

Hannah.” Bill plunked downon a stool and cupped both

hands around his mug ofcoffee. “It’s getting cold outthere.”“I can tell. You look

positively blue around thegills. Did you find outanything?”“Not much. The driver’s

windowwasopen.Ronmusthave stopped his truck androlled down the window totalktohiskiller.”Hannah thought about that

for a moment. “He wouldn’t

haverolleddownhiswindowif he thought that he was inanydanger.”“Probably not,” Bill

agreed.“Whoeveritwastookhimcompletelybysurprise.”“Do you have any

suspects?”“Not yet. And unless we

can find a witness, the onlycluewe’ll have is the bullet.It’llgotoballisticsrightaftertheautopsy.”Hannah winced at the

mention of the autopsy. TotakehermindoffthefactthatDocKnightwouldhavetocutRon open, she asked anotherquestion. “Youdon’t have totellanyonethathewaseatingone of my cookies when hedied, do you? It might putpeopleoff, ifyouknowwhatImean.”“Noproblem.”Bill looked

amusedfor thefirst time thatmorning. “Your cookies hadnothing to do with it. Ron

wasshot.”“I wish I’d found him

sooner, Bill. I could havecalledforanambulance.”“That wouldn’t have done

any good. It looked like thebullet hit his heart. I won’tknow for sure until the docgets through with him, but Ithinkhediedinstantly.”“That’s good.” Hannah

nodded,andthensherealizedwhat she’d said. “I mean,that’snot good, but I’m glad

itwasoverquickly.”Bill opened his notebook.

“I want you to tell meeverything thathappened thismorning,Hannah,evenifyoudon’tthinkit’simportant.”“You got it.” Hannah

waited until Bill had pickedup his pen and then she toldhimeverything,fromthetimeshe’d first seen Ron at thedairy to the moment she’ddiscovered his body. Shegave Bill the exact time that

shehadgoneout through therear door of the bakery, andthetimethatshe’dcomebackintocallthesheriff’soffice.“You make a good

witness,” Bill complimentedher.“Isthatall?”“I think Tracey may have

been the last person to seeRon alive. She said she waswaitingforAndreatopickupsome papers at the realtyofficewhenRondroveby inhis truck. Shewaved at him,

hewavedback, and then shewatched him turn at mycorner. That must have beenclosetoeightbecauseAndreaand Tracey came into thecoffee shop right after Iopened and . . .” Hannahstopped speaking and begantofrown.“What is it,Hannah?”Bill

picked up his pen again.“You just thought ofsomething,didn’tyou?”“Yes.IfTraceysawRonat

eight,hewasalreadytwenty-five minutes behindschedule.”“Howdoyouknowthat?”“Ron was supposed to be

here at seven thirty-five. Hedelivers to the school andthen he comes straight here.I’vebeenonhisroutesinceIopened this place and he’snever been more than aminutelate.”“And that’swhyyouwent

outinthealleytolookforhis

truck?”“Not exactly. We thought

he’d broken down. Traceysaid she heard his truckbackfire right after he turnedintothe...”Hannahstoppedin midsentence, her eyeswidening in shock. “Traceyheard it, Bill. She thought itwas a backfire, but shemusthaveheardtheshotthatkilledRon!”Bill’s lips tightened and

Hannah knew what he was

thinking. It was terrifying tothinkthatTraceyhadcomesoclose to the scene of amurder.“I’dbettergetout tothedairyandtellMaxTurnerwhat’shappened,”hesaid.“Max isn’t there.Ron told

methathewasleavingfortheTri-State Buttermakers’Conventionthismorning.It’sin Wisconsin and I think itlasts for a week. If I wereyou,I’dtalktoBettyJackson.She’s Max’s secretary and

she’ll know how to reachhim.”“Good idea.” Bill drained

his coffee mug and set itdown. “This case is reallyimportant to me, Hannah. Ipassedthedetective’stestlastweek and Sheriff Grant putmeincharge.”“Then you’ve been

promoted?”Hannahstartedtosmile.“Notyet.SheriffGranthas

to sign off on it, but I’m

pretty sure he will, if I do agood job. This promotionwouldbegood forus. I’dbemaking more money andAndrea wouldn’t have towork.”“That’s wonderful, Bill.”

Hannah was genuinelypleasedforhim.“You don’t think it’s

wrongtouseRon’smurderasa springboard to mypromotion?”“Absolutely not.” Hannah

shookherhead.“Somebody’sgot to catch Ron’s killer. Ifyou do it and if you get apromotion,it’sonlywhatyoudeserve.”“You’re not just saying

thattomakemefeelbetter?”“Me? I never say what I

don’t mean, not when it’simportant. You should knowthatbynow!”Billgrinned,relaxingabit.

“You’re right. It’s likeAndreasays:Tactisn’treally

oneofyourlongsuits.”“True.” Hannah conceded

the pointwith a smile, but itstillstungalittle.Shethoughtshe’d been very tactful withAndreaover theyears.Therehad been countless occasionswhen she could havecheerfully strangled hersister,andshehadn’t.“There’s one other thing,

Hannah.” Bill cleared histhroat. “I hate to ask, butpeopletendtotalktoyouand

youknowalmosteveryoneintown.Willyoucallmeifyouhear anything you think Ishouldknow?”“OfcourseIwill.”“Thanks. Just keep your

eyes and your ears open. IfRon’s killer is local, he’sboundtosayordosomethingtogivehimselfaway.Wejusthave to be smart enough topickuponit.”Hannah nodded. Then she

noticed that Bill was eyeing

the trays of Oatmeal RaisinCrisps with longing and shegot up to fill a bag for him.“Don’teatallthesecookiesinone sitting, Bill. You’regetting a roll around yourwaist.”After Bill left, Hannah

thought about what she’dsaid. Andrea was right. Shehad no tact. A tactful personwouldn’t havementioned theroll around Bill’s waist. Itwasn’t her place to criticize

Andrea’shusband.As she walked back

through the swinging doorandtookherplacebehindthecounter,Hannahrealized thatshe’d committed an evenmore serious sisterlyinfraction. She’d justpromised tohelpBill solveamurder case that might endupputtingAndrearightoutofajob.

CHOCOLATECHIPCRUNCH

COOKIES

Preheatovento375°F.,rackinthemiddleposition.

1 cupbutter(2sticks,melted)

1 cupwhitesugar

1 cupbrownsugar

2teaspoons

bakingsoda

1teaspoonsalt

2teaspoonsvanilla

2 beateneggs(youcanbeatthem

upwithafork)

2½ cupsflour(notsifted)

2 cupscrushedcornflakes(justcrushthemwith

yourhands)

1 to 2cupschocolatechips

Melt butter,add the sugarsand stir. Addsoda, salt,vanilla, and

beaten eggs.Mix well.Thenaddflourand stir it in.Add crushedcorn flakesand chocolatechips and mixit allthoroughly.

Form dough

into walnut-sized balls

with yourfingers andplace on agreasedcookiesheet, 12 to astandard sheet.Press themdown slightlywith a flouredor greasedspatula.

Bake at 375degrees for 8to 10 minutes.Cool oncookie sheetfor 2 minutes,thenremovetoa wire rackuntil they’recompletelycool.(Therack

is important—it makes themcrisp.)

Yield:6to8

dozen,depending oncookiesize.

(These

cookies havebeen Andrea’sfavorites sincehighschool.)

Hannah’s

Note: If thesecookiesspread outtoo much inthe oven,reduce temp.to350°F.anddo not flattenbeforebaking.

ChapterThree

“That’sit,Lisa.I’mreadytoroll.”Hannahshutthebackofher Suburban and walkedaround to climb into thedriver’s seat. “I should bebackbyfouratthelatest.”Lisa nodded, handing

Hannahacontaineroflemonsthat had been washed untilany germs courageousenough to light on theirsurfacehadfledinterror.“Doyou want to take some extrasugarincasethere’sarunonthelemonade?”“I’lljustborrowsomefrom

theschoolkitchenifIneedit.Edna doesn’t leave untilthree-thirty.”When Lisa had gone back

inside, Hannah backed into

thealleyanddroveofftowardJordan High. It had beennamedafterthefirstmayorofLake Eden, Ezekiel Jordan,butshesuspectedthatmostofthe students believed thattheir school’s namesake hadplayedprobasketball.Jordan High and

WashingtonElementaryweretwo separate buildings thatwereconnectedbyacarpetedcorridor with double-panedwindows that overlooked the

school grounds. The twoschools shared a commonauditorium and cafeteria tocut down on costs, and therewas only one principal. Themaintenance crew consistedoffourpeople; twotookcareofthejanitorialworkandtheother two were responsiblefortheplayground,aswellasthehighschoolathleticfields.The Lake Eden school

complex worked well. Sincethegradeschoolandthehigh

schoolwere connected, olderbrothers and sisters werealways available to drive ayounger sibling home in theevent of illness, or to calm afrightened kindergartner whomissed Mom and Dad. Thisarrangement also provided abonus for Jordan Highstudents. The seniors whoplanned to become teacherswereencouragedtovolunteeras classroom aides duringtheir free period. The early

on-the-job training hadproduced several collegegraduates who’d returned toLakeEdentoacceptteachingpositionsattheschool.As she turned on Third

Streetanddrovepast thecityblock that hadbeen set asideforfamilyrecreation,Hannahrealized that there were nopreschoolers playing in LakeEdenPark.Thechainsontheswings were perfectlymotionless, the merry-go-

roundwasstillladenwiththecolorfulleavesthathadfallenduring the morning, andthough the temperature hadtopped the predicted high offorty-eight degrees, therewerenochildrenon tricyclespedaling along the circularsidewalk around theplayground.For a moment this struck

Hannah as odd. It was thetypeofweatherthatamotherof a preschooler prayed for.

But then she rememberedwhat had happened thismorning and she understoodwhy the park was empty.There was a killer loose inLake Eden. Concernedparents were keeping theirchildreninside,outofharm’sway.There was a long line of

carsidlingatcurbsideonGullAvenue.Itstretchedforthreeblocks leading to and fromtheschoolcomplex,blocking

access to driveways and firehydrants in blatant disregardfor the city parking statutes.Hannah inched her way pastworried-looking parentswaiting for thedismissalbelltoring,andasshenearedtheschool, she saw that HerbBeeseman, his patrol carfreshly washed and waxed,was parked diagonally infront of the entrance. Hewasn’t handing out anyticketsfortheinfractionsthat

were occurring right underhis nose, and Hannahassumed that he’d placed thesafety of Lake Eden’schildren at a higher prioritythanfillingthecity’scoffers.Hannah reached back

between the seats andsnagged a bag of MolassesCrackles. She always carriedseveral bags of cookies withherfortimeslikethese.Thenshe pulled up beside Herb’spatrolcarandrolleddownher

window. “Hi, Herb. I’mgoing in to cater the BoyScout Awards Banquet. Is itokayifIpullintothelot?”“Sure, Hannah,” Herb

responded, his eyes on thebag of cookies in her hand.“Just make sure you parklegally.Arethoseforme?”Hannah handed him the

bag. “You’re doing a greatjob protecting the kids. I’msure the parents appreciateit.”

“Thanks.” Herb lookedpleased at her compliment.“Does your mother still hatemeforthatticketIgaveher?”“She doesn’t exactly hate

you, Herb.” Hannah decidedthat this wasn’t the time totell Herb precisely what hermother had called him. “Butshe’sstillalittleputout.”“I’m sorry I had to do it,

Hannah. I like your mother,but I can’t have peoplespeedingthroughtown.”

“I understand and I thinkMother does, too. She’s justnot quite willing to admit ityet.” Hannah began to grin.“At least one good thingcameoutofthatticket.”“What’sthat?”“She stopped trying to fix

meupwithyou.”Hannah was chuckling as

she drove off. Judging fromthe surprised expression onHerb’s face, he hadn’tguessed that her mother had

previouslyconsideredhimforthepositionofson-in-law.The wide gate that

separated the teachers’parking lot from the schoolgrounds was open andHannah drove through. Asshe traveled down the lanebetween the rows of parkedcars, she noticed aconspicuous absence of newor expensive vehicles.Teaching didn’t pay wellenough for any luxuries, and

Hannah thought that was ashame. Therewas somethingreallywrongwith the systemwhen a teacher could makemoremoney flipping burgersatafast-foodchain.Thestripofblacktopbythe

backdoorofthecafeteriawaspepperedwithwarningsigns.Hannahpulledupbyonethatread: “NO PARKING ATANYTIMEBYORDEROFTHE LAKE EDENPARKING AUTHORITY.”

In smaller letters, it warnedthat violators would beprosecuted to the full extentof the law, butHerbwas thesole employee of the LakeEden Parking Authority andhewasoutwatchingthefrontentrance. Hannah didn’t feelguilty about violating a cityparking statute. She wasrunning late and she had tounload her supplies. In lessthan ten minutes a horde ofhungryBoyScoutswouldbe

clamoringforhercookiesandlemonade.The minute that Hannah

pulled up, Edna Fergusonopened thekitchendoor.Shewasabird-thinwomaninherfifties and she wore awelcoming smile. “Hi,Hannah. I was wonderingwhenyou’dgethere.Doyouwantsomehelpunloading?”“Thanks, Edna.” Hannah

handedher aboxof suppliesto carry. “The Scouts aren’t

hereyet,arethey?”Ednashookherhair-netted

head. “Mr. Purvis called anall-school assembly andthey’restillintheauditorium.If their parents aren’t here topick themup,hewants themtowalkhomeingroups.”Hannah nodded, hefting

the large box of cookies thatLisa had packed, andfollowedEdnaintotheschoolkitchen. As she entered thelargeroomwith itswall-long

counters and massiveappliances,Hannahwonderedwhat it would be like to bethe last child in the group.You’d start off together,feelingsafebyvirtueofsheernumbers,butonebyoneyourfriends would peel off to gointo their own homes.Whenthe last one had left, you’dhavetogotherestofthewayby yourself, hoping andpraying that the killerwasn’tlurkinginthebushes.

“There was no suffering,wasthere,Hannah?”Hannah set the box down

andturnedtoEdna.“What?”“With Ron. I’ve been

thinking about it all day. Hewassuchaniceboy.Ifitwashis time todie, Ihope itwasquickandpainless.”Hannah didn’t believe that

everyone had a prearrangedtimetodie.Thinkinglikethatwas too much like buying alotteryticketandfiguringthat

it was your turn to win thejackpot. “Bill told me hethoughtitwasinstantaneous.”“I guess we should be

gratefulforthat.Andtothinkthat he was right here, onlyminutes before he wasmurdered!It’senoughtogiveabodychills!”Hannah placed her lemons

on one of Edna’s choppingblocksandbegantocuttheminto paper-thin slices. “ThenRon made his delivery this

morning?”“Ofcourse.Thatboynever

missed a day. He was realconscientious and he tookprideinhiswork.”Hannahaddedthistidbitto

the small stockpile of factsshe’d gathered. Ron hadstocked JordanHigh’s coolerthis morning, for whateverthatwasworth.“Didyouseehimthismorning?”“No. I never do. I don’t

come in until eight and he

was long gone by then. Butthecoolerhadbeenstocked.”Hannah unpacked her

heavy-duty plastic punchbowl and handed it to Edna.She only used the glass onefor formal functions likeweddings and the seniorprom.Thenshepickedupthehuge thermos of lemonadeand thebowlof lemon slicesshe’d cut, and led the wayinto the main part of thecafeteria.Atablehadalready

been set up for refreshments,covered with a blue papertablecloth, and there was acardboardfileboxattheheadof another similarly coveredtable.“Gilcamedownonhisfree

period to set up,” Edna toldher. “He said to tell you thathe’s bringing a ballooncenterpiece.”“Okay, I’ll leave room for

it.” Hannah motioned forEdna to put the punch bowl

down. Then she opened thethermos and started to pourthe lemonade into the bowl.“You didn’t notice anythingunusual about the way Ronleftthekitchen?”“Can’tsayasIdid.What’s

in those ice cubes, Hannah?Theylookcloudy.”“They’re made out of

lemonade so they won’tdiluteitwhentheymelt.Idothe same thing with anypunch I make.” Hannah

finished transferring thelemonade and floated theslicesoflemononthetop.Asshe stepped back to admirethe effect, she noticed thatEdnawasfrowning.“Doyouthink it needs more lemonslices?”“No. It looks real

professional. I was justthinkingaboutRon.”“You and everybody else.

Come on, Edna. I’ve got tounpackthecookies.”

Edna followed her back tothe kitchen and she gaspedwhenHannahliftedthelidonthe box. “Just look at that!Those are real pretty,Hannah.”“I think so, too.” Hannah

smiled as she arranged thecookies on a tray. Lisa hadpiped on yellow and bluefrosting in the shape of theBoy Scout logo. “LisaHerman did the decorations.She’s getting to be an expert

withthepastrybag.”“Lisa’s real talented. I

swear that girl could doanythingsheputhermindto.It’sjustapityshehadtogiveupcollegetotakecareofherfather.”“Iknow.Herolderbrothers

andsisterswantedtoputhimin a nursing home, but Lisadidn’t think that was right.”Hannah handed Edna a boxwith small blue paper plates,goldnapkins,andblueplastic

cups. “You take this. I’llbringthecookies.”It didn’t take long to

arrange the plates, cups, andnapkins on the table. Onceeverything was done, theywentbackintothekitchenfora cup of coffee. They weresitting at the square woodentable in the corner of thekitchen, waiting for theScouts to arrive, when Ednagave another long sigh. “It’sjustsuchapity,that’sall.”

“YoumeanaboutRon?”“Yes. That poor boy was

running himself ragged withthose routes of his. He wasputting in a sixty-hour weekand Max doesn’t payovertime. It was getting tohim.”“DidRontellyouthat?”Edna shook her head.

“Betty Jackson did. She wasthere when Ron asked Maxfor an assistant. That wasoversixmonthsago,butMax

was too cheap to put anyoneelseonthepayroll.”Hannahknew.MaxTurner

had the reputation forpinching a penny until itscreamed in pain. Forsomeonewhowasrumoredtohave money to burn, hecertainly didn’t live the part.Maxdroveanewcar,butthatwas his only luxury. He stilllivedinhisparents’oldhousein back of the Cozy CowDairy.He’dfixeditupsome,

but that had been necessary.It would have fallen downaroundhisearsifhehadn’t.“I just think it’s a shame

thatRonhadtodieonthedaythat he finally got hisassistant.”“Ron had an assistant?”

Hannah turned to look atEdna in surprise. “How doyouknowthat?”“Ikeepouta jarof instant

coffee for Ron. He alwayslikedsomethingtowarmhim

up after he came out of thecooler.Thereweretwocoffeecups on the counter when Icame in this morning so Ifigured he finally got hisassistant.But Inever thoughtthat Max would hire awoman!”Hannah felt her adrenaline

start to pump. Ron’s newassistant might havewitnessed his murder.“You’re sure that Ron’sassistantwasawoman?”

“Therewas lipstick on thecup. She must have beenyoung because it was brightpink and that color looksterribleonsomeoneourage.”Hannah bristled at being

lumped in a category with awoman who was at leasttwenty years older than shewas.Shehadhalfanotiontoremind Edna of that, but itmight be counterproductive.“Did you wash the cups,Edna?”

“Nope.Ithrewtheminthetrash.”“You threw them in the

trash?”Edna laughed at Hannah’s

astonished expression. “Theywerethedisposablekind.”“They could be evidence,”

Hannah informed her, andEdna’s laugh died a quickdeath.“Bill’sinchargeoftheinvestigation and he’ll needtoseethem.”Hannah turned and headed

for the wastebasket by thesink, but before she couldstarttorummageinside,Ednastopped her. “Mr. Hodgesemptied my trash right afterlunch. I’m really sorry,Hannah. I never would havethrown them away if I’dknown that they wereimportant.”Hannahrealizedshe’dbeen

abrupt.“That’sokay.Justtellme what Mr. Hodges doeswiththetrash.”

“Hethrowsitallinthatbigorange Dumpster in theparking lot. Somebody’sgoing to have to dig throughitbeforeitgetshauledaway.”“What time does that

happen?”“Aroundfive.”Hannah muttered a curse

under her breath. Shecouldn’t stand by and let thetrash truck haul awayimportantevidence.She’dtrytoreachBill,butifhewasn’t

here by the time the awardsbanquetwasover,she’dhaveto go through the trash bagsherself.“Great job, Hannah!” Gil

Surma, the Lake Edenscoutmaster and JordanHighcounselor,gaveherafriendlypat on the shoulder. “It’s agood thingyoubroughtextracookies. I never thought thateighteenboyscouldeatseven

dozen.”“That’s less than five

apiece and they’re growingboys.I justfiguredthatsinceI was catering a Boy Scoutbanquet, I’d better live up totheBoyScoutmotto.”It took Gil a minute. As

Hannahwatched, the cornersofGil’seyesbegantocrinkleandhechuckled.“Youmean,‘Be Prepared’? That’s veryclever.”Hannah smiledandcarried

the punch bowl out to thekitchen. When she cameback, Gil was still there.“Youdon’thave tostay,Gil.Icancleanup.”“No, I’ll help you.” Gil

begantogatheruptheplasticcupsandplatesandtossthemintothetrash.“Hannah?”“Yes,Gil.”Hannahpaused

to stare at him. Gil lookedveryearnest.“You found Ron, didn’t

you?”

Hannah sighed. Everyoneshe met wanted to knowsomething about Ron. Shewas becoming a localcelebrity, but beingcatapulted to instant fame byvirtueofRon’smurdermadeher feel rotten. “Yes, Gil. Ifoundhim.”“Thatmusthavebeenvery

upsettingforyou.”“Itwasn’t exactlymy idea

offun.”“I was just thinking . . .

that’saterriblethingyouhadto go through and youmightwanttotalktosomeoneaboutit. My office door is alwaysopen,Hannah.AndI’lldomybest to help you throughthis.”Hannahwanted to tellhim

that shedidn’tneeda shrink.Even if she did, a JordanHigh counselor who dealtwith the heartbreak of acneand dateless Saturday nightswouldn’t be the shrink she’d

choose. But then shereminded herself that she’dvowed to be tactful, and shetookadeepbreath,preparingto lie through her teeth.“Thanksfortheoffer,Gil.IfIneed to talk to somebodyabout it, you’ll be my firstchoice.”Edna had left by the time

Hannah had packed up hersupplies and carted them out

to her Suburban. She’d triedto callBill several times, butshe’d been told thatBillwasout in the field and couldn’tbe reached. Hannah glancedatherwatch.She’dpromisedLisa that she’d be back byfour, and she had only fiveminutes to make it. Butfinding the cup with lipstickwas more important thangetting back to The CookieJarontime.Hannah glanced down at

her best dress slacks andsweaterset.Shewascateringthemayor’spartytonightandshe’dplannedtowearit.The knit outfit was light

beige, but it was washable.Giving a little groan for theloadoflaundryshe’dhavetodothemomentshegothome,Hannah pushed up hersweater sleeves andmarchedto the Dumpster, girding herloins to do battle with thecafeteria leftovers that

awaitedher.The Dumpster was huge.

Hannahwrinkled her nose atthe stench that rolled out ofthemetal bin andmuttered acurse.Thelipofthecontainercame up above her armpitsandtherewasnowaythatshecould lift all the bags out toexamine them. Mutteringanothercurse,amorecolorfulonethistime,Hannahwalkedback to her Suburban anddroveitupnose-to-nosewith

the front of the trash bin.Thensheclambereduponthecandy-apple red hood andreached into theDumpster topullupthefirsttrashbag.Her first attempt yielded

wadded napkins, globs ofbutterscotch pudding, andclumps of something brownthatlookedlikebeefstew.Atleast she knew what thestudents had eaten for lunch.Hannahwasabout tohaulupthe second bag when she

remembered that the kitchenwastebasket had been linedwith a smaller green plasticbag. She stretched out overthe hood and lifted the blackbags one by one, draggingthem over to one side. Nearthe bottom—she should haveknownthatitwouldbeonthebottom—she saw one lonegreenbag.Eventhoughshescrunched

forwarduntilherentireupperbody was hanging over the

edgeoftheDumpster,thetipsof her fingers were still agood three inches from thetopof thegreenbag.Hannahsighedand thenshedidwhatany good sister-in-law anddedicated amateur detectivewoulddo.She turned aroundtodangleherlegsoverthelipof themetalbin, tookadeepsteadying breath, and sliddown into the bowels of theDumpster.Now that she was on the

inside, grabbing the greentrash bag was simple.Climbing back out of theDumpster wasn’t. Hannahhad to stack the big blackbags in a pile so that shecould scramble up on top ofthem, using them like aslippery and squishystaircase. One bag brokeunder her weight and shegroaned as her shoes sankdown into a morass of stew.By the time she emerged

from the malodorous depthsandpulledherselfbackuponthe hood of her Suburbanagain,Hannah knew that shesmelled every bit as bad asshelooked.“Bill’s going to owe me

big time for this,” Hannahgrumbledassheloosenedthetie on the green plastic bagand began to search throughthe contents. Severalcrumpledbreadwrappersandaslewofillicitcigarettebutts

later, she encountered twoStyrofoamcups.“Gotcha!”Hannahcrowed.

She was about to grab thecups when she rememberedthat movie and televisiondetectives always usedprotective gloves andevidence bags. If there werefingerprints on the cup withthe lipstick, she certainlydidn’twant to smudge them.Since Hannah didn’t happento carry gloves or evidence

bagsonhercateringjobs,shesettled for slipping a breadwrapper over her hand,plucking out the two cups,one by one, and depositingthem inside a second emptybreadwrapper.Withtheevidencesecured,

Hannah slid down from thehood of her Suburban andclimbedintothedriver’sseat.Asshestartedherengineanddrove out of the schoolparking lot, she felt a little

foolish about the elaborateprecautions she’d taken.Modeling herself after atelevisiondetectivewascrazyunless shewasdumbenoughto believe that the prefix ofevery telephone number inthe entire country was five-five-five.

ChapterFour

Lisa was filling a bag withPeanut Butter Melts and hereyesgrewasroundassaucersas Hannah blew in the backdoor.“Hannah!What...?”“Don’task.I’mgoinginto

takeaquickshower.”

“But Bill’s here and heneedstotalktoyou.”Hannah ducked into the

bathroomandpokedherheadoutthedoor.“Whereishe?”“Out in front. He’s

minding the counter while Ipack up this order for Mrs.Jessup.”“Givehimamugofcoffee

and send him back here. I’llbe out just as soon as I’mdecent.”The moment she’d closed

the bathroom door behindher, Hannah peeled off herfilthy clothes and stuffedthemintoalaundrybag.Thenshe climbed into theminuscule metal enclosurethat Al Percy had called an“added bonus” when he’dshown her the building, andcranked on the water. She’dused the showeroncebefore,when a fifty-pound bag offlour had burst as she’dmuscled it up to the surface

of the work island. Hershower might be tiny andcramped,butitworked.Onceshewasascleanasshecouldgetwithin the tight confines,she shut off the water andstepped out, toweling off inrecordtime.Sheputon theextra setof

clothes she kept foremergencies: a pair of wornjeans with a threadbare rearandanoldMinnesotaVikingssweatshirt that had faded

from royal purple to a dullshade of pewter. The goldblock letters had deterioratedintoapeelingsmudge,butatleast she didn’t smell likedecaying food.After runningawide-toothedcombthroughher frizzy red hair, sheslipped her feet into the pairof cross-country trainers shehadn’t worn since the lasttime she’d fallen for the old“jogging is good for you”routine,andopenedthedoor.

Bill was sitting on a stoolat the work island. Therewere cookie crumbs on theotherwise sparkling surfaceand Hannah assumed thatLisa must have plied himwith cookies to keep himfrombecomingtooimpatient.“About time,” Bill

commented. “Lisa said yousmelled worse than thepanhandler thathangsaroundthe Red Owl. Whathappened?”

“I was just helping you.Edna Ferguson told me thatMaxhiredawomanassistantforRon. Iwas collecting thecoffee cups they used thismorning.”Bill lookedconfused. “But

Ron didn’t have an assistant.I asked Betty about that. IftherewasawomanwithRonthis morning, she wasn’thired by the dairy. Didn’tEdnarecognizeher?”“Edna didn’t see her. Ron

and this woman left beforeshecameintowork.”“Wait aminute.”Bill held

uphishands.“IfEdnadidn’tsee thiswoman,howdid sheknowabouther?”“From the cups. Edna

always leavesa jarof instantcoffee out for Ron and thereweretwocupsonthecounterthis morning. One of themhadasmearoflipstickontherimand that’showsheknewthatRonwaswithawoman.I

collected them and they’reright over there by thedishwasher in that breadwrapper.”“Why did Edna save

them?”Billlookedpuzzledashegotuptoretrievethecups.“Shedidn’t.Idugthemout

of the cafeteria Dumpster.Theywereall theway in thebottomand Ihad to climb intogetthem.”“That’s why you smelled

likeapanhandler?”

“You got it.” HannahgaspedasBillstartedtoreachinside the bread wrapper.“Don’t touch them, Bill! Iwent to a lot of trouble topreserveanyfingerprints.”Bill’s eyebrows shot up

andhefrozeforasecond.Hetook one look at her earnestface and then he began tolaugh. “The lab can’t liftprints from this kind of cup.Thesurfaceistoorough.”“I knew I never should

have climbed in thatDumpster!”Hannah groaned.“Howaboutthelipstick?Canyoudosomethingwiththat?”“It’s possible, unless it’s

suchapopularcolorthathalfthe women in Lake Edenwearit.”“It’s not.” Hannah was

very sure of herself. “Mostwomen look awful in brightpink.”“How would you know?

I’ve never seen you wear

lipstick.”“That’s true, but Andrea

bought a color like that onceanditlookedhorribleonher.She’s got every other shadethere is, so I figure that thisonecan’tbeverypopular.”“You’ve got a point.” Bill

startedtosmile.“Goodwork,Hannah.”Hannahwaspleasedat the

compliment, but then shestarted thinking about thelogistics of finding the Lake

Edenwomanwhoownedthatcolor of lipstick. “What areyougoingtodo,Bill?Inspecteverypowderroomintown?”“I hope it won’t come to

that. I’ll start with thecosmetic counters and see ifthey carry this color.Whoever she is, she had tobuy it somewhere. That’scalled legwork, Hannah, andI’llneedyourhelp.Youmaynot know much aboutlipstick, but you’ve got to

knowmorethanIdo.”Hannah sighed. Watching

paint dry held more interestfor her than cosmeticcounters, and legwork didn’tsoundlikeverymuchfun.“Youaregoingtohelpme,

aren’tyou?”“OfcourseIam.I’msorry

I’mnotmoreenthusiastic,butrooting around in all thatgarbagegotmedown.”“Nexttimejustcallmeand

I’lldoit.I’vegotcoverallsin

the cruiser and I’m used tostufflikethat.”“Ididcallyou.Ievenlefta

message, but you didn’t getbacktomeintime.AndsinceEdna told me that the trashcompany was coming toemptytheDumpsteratfive,IfiguredthatI’dbetterdoit.”Bill reached out to pat her

on the back. “You’d make agooddetective,Hannah.Yourdip in the Dumpster gave ustheonlyrealcluewe’vegot.”

Rhonda Scharf, her plump

middle-aged body encased ina baby-blue angora sweaterthatmight have fit her thirtypounds ago, leaned forwardover the glass-toppedcosmetic counter at LakeEden NeighborhoodPharmacy to stare at thesmudge of pink lipstick onthe white Styrofoam cup.Rhondawaswearingascowl

that turned down the cornersof her heavily rouged lips,and her too-long, too-thick,too-black-tobe-real eyelashesfluttered in distaste. “Thatlipstickdidn’tcomefrommycounter.Iwouldn’tbecaughtdeaddisplayingaproductlikethat!”Billpushed thebagcloser.

“Take another look, Rhonda.Weneedtomakesure.”“I did look.” Rhonda

pushed the bag back to him.

“IdoalltheorderingandI’venever carried that brand orthatcolor.”“There’s no doubt in your

mind,Rhonda?”Rhonda shook her head,

her coal-black hair swayingfromsidetoside.Thestrandsmoved together, like they’dbeen dipped in glue, andHannah suspected thatRhonda must get a massiveemployee’s discount onhairspray.

“See how it’s smeared?”Rhondapokedatthebagwiththe pointed tip of a long,manicured nail. “I don’t sellany lipstick that isn’tsmudge-proof,andthelinesIbuy from don’t make garishshadeslikethat.”Hannahlookedupfromthe

color charts that Rhonda hadhandedher.Hergrandmotherhad always said that you’dcatch more flies with honeythan with vinegar, and she

was about to put that oldmaximtothetest.“Wereallyneed your help, Rhonda.You’re Lake Eden’s onlycosmeticexpert.”“Then why did you go to

CostMart? I know you did,Hannah. Cheryl Coombscalledtotellme.”“Ofcoursewewentthere,”

Hannah acknowledged. “Wechecked out every cosmeticcounter in town. But wesaved you for last because I

told Bill you’d know moreabout lipstick than anyoneelseintown.Yourmakeupisalwayssoperfect.”Rhonda preened slightly,

givingBill a sidelong glancethatwasdefinitely flirtatious.Since Rhonda had to bepushing fifty and Bill hadn’tyet celebrated his thirtiethbirthday, Hannah figured thegossip her mother had toldher about Rhonda and theUPS driver might not be as

ridiculousasshe’dthought.“I’ll help any way I can.”

Rhonda simpered a bit, herviolet-colored contactstrainedonBill.“Whatdoyouwanttoknow?”Hannah sighed, reminding

herself again about flies andhoney.“Ifyouwantedtobuya lipstick like the one on thecup . . . and I know youwouldn’t, having such goodtaste and all . . . but if youdid, where would you go to

buyit?”“Letme think about that.”

Rhonda pursed her perfectlydrawnlips.“Nostoreintownwould carry that lipstick, soI’d have to look elsewhere.NotthatIwould,ofcourse.”Hannah agreed quickly.

“Of course not. We’re justpretendinghere, trying togetafeelforwheretheownerofthis lipstickmight have gonetobuyit.You’rehelpingBillwith a very important

investigation,Rhonda,andhereallyappreciatesit.”“Just a minute.” Rhonda’s

eyes narrowed. “Does thishaveanythingtodowithRonLaSalle’smurder?”HannahkickedBillandhe

took his cue from her. Heleaned close and lowered hisvoice. “It’s confidential,Rhonda. The only reasonweasked is because we knewthatwecouldtrustyou.”“I see.” Rhonda reached

out to pat Bill’s hand. “If Iwanted to buy this particularshade of perfectly awfullipstick,I’djusthavetogetitfromLuanneHanks.”“Luanne Hanks?” Hannah

was surprised. Luanne hadbeen in Michelle’s highschoolclass,butshe’dhadtodrop out when she gotpregnant. “I thought Luanneworked at Hal and Rose’sCafe.”“Shedoes.”

“They sell lipsticks at thecafe?”Billasked.“No, silly boy.” Rhonda

batted her unnatural lashes.“Luanne works at the cafeduringtheweekandshesellsPretty Girl cosmetics on theweekends. I’ve seen herlugging her sample casearoundtown.”Bill stepped back,

preparing to go. “Thanks,Rhonda. You’ve been a bighelp.”

“There’s one more thing,Rhonda.”Hannah put on hermostseriousexpression.“Billhasn’twarnedyouyet.”Bill turned to stare at her

with a perfectly blank face,andHannahknewshe’dhaveto take charge. She turnedback to Rhonda and plungedahead on her own. “It’s likethis, Rhonda. Bill doesn’twant you to say anythingabout any of the questionshe’s asked you. If Ron’s

killer finds out that youhelped, you could be in realdanger.Isn’tthatright,Bill?”“Uh . . . right!”Billwasa

little slow on the uptake, butHannah figured he was stillrattled by Rhonda’s attempttoflirtwithhim.“Mum’stheword, Rhonda. Just keep inmind that Ron’s killer hasalready committed theultimate crime. He’s gotnothing to lose by killingagain.”

Rhonda’s face turned sopale that Hannah could seethe place where she’dblended her foundation.Rhonda deserved a goodscareforflirtingwithBill,butHannah didn’t want to beresponsible for thedamage ifRhonda fainted and crashedinto the glass cosmeticcounter.“You don’t have to be

nervous, Rhonda.” Hannahreached out to pat her arm

and steady her at the sametime. “No one overheard ourconversation andwewent toevery cosmetic counter intown. As far as anyoneknows, you just told us thatyou didn’t sell this type oflipstick.”“Hannah’sright,”Billsaid.

“There’s no cause for alarm,Rhonda. I’ll protect youridentity by keeping yournameoutofmynotes.”“Thank you, Bill.”A little

color began to come back toRhonda’s face. “I won’tbreathe a word of this toanyone.Iswearit.”Hannah was satisfied that

Rhonda wouldn’t blab, butshe still looked awfully pale.“When the killer’s behindbars, Bill will put in for aspecial citizen’s meritcertificate for you. You’vebeenreallyhelpful,Rhonda.”Bill echoed Hannah’s

words and picked up the

plastic bag. With a finalgoodbye and a thank-you toRhonda, they walked out ofthe store and climbed intoBill’s county cruiser. Theywere driving back toHannah’s shop when Billstartedtochuckle.“What is it?” Hannah

turnedtostareathim.“Iwasjustwonderinghow

I’d put in for a specialcitizen’s merit certificate forRhonda when the sheriff’s

department doesn’t do thingslikethat.”“No problem,” Hannah

assured him. “Gil Surma’sgot a bunch of blank awardcertificates for his BoyScouts. I’ll just ask him foroneandyoucanfillitinwithRhonda’sname.”“That won’t work. Sheriff

Grant will never sign hisname to a trumped-upaward.”“He doesn’t have to.”

Hannah gave him a grin.“We’re going to solve thiscase, Bill. By the time youget around to giving Rhondaher certificate, you’ll be adetective and you can sign ityourself.”

ChapterFive

Hannahhungher slacks andsweater on a hanger andreached out to catch Moishebeforehedisappearedintothestill-warm interior of thedryer.“No,youdon’t.Dryerseat cats and I think you’re

alreadyonyourninthlife.”WithMoishe tucked under

one arm, she folded a towelone-handedandcarrieditouttothecouch.Themomentsheset it down, Moishe jumpedontopandstartedtopurr.“What’s a little cat hair

between friends?” Hannahasked, reaching down toscratch him under the chinbefore she went back toretrieve the rest of herclothes. Five minutes later,

shewasdressedandreadyforthemayor’s fundraiser at thecommunitycenter.“I’ve got to go, Moishe.”

Hannah stopped at the couchto say goodbye to him. “I’llturn on the TV for you. Doyou want A&E, or AnimalPlanet?”Moisheflickedhis tailand

Hannah understood. “Okay,I’ll put it on A&E.Emergency Vet is onAnimalPlanet tonight and you don’t

liketowatchthat.”Shehadjustflickedonthe

television when the phonerang. Hannah exchanged aglance with Moishe. “I’dbetter not answer that. It’sprobablyMotheragain.”Hannah listened as her

outgoing message played:“Hello. This is Hannah. Ican’t answer the phone rightnow, but if you leave amessage, I’ll be glad to callyouback.Waitforthebeep.”

The beep sounded and thenher mother’s voice camethrough the speaker. “Whereare you,Hannah? I’ve calledsix times already and you’renever home. Call me theminute you step in the door.It’simportant!”“Would you say that

Mother sounds a littlemiffed?” Hannah grinneddown at Moishe. His earswerelaidbackflatagainsthisskull and he’d puffed up in

anger at the sound of hermother’s voice. Shesmoothed down his ruffledfur and gave him anotherscratch. “Don’t worry,Moishe.Shewon’tcomeoverhere. She just replaced thelastpairofpantyhosethatyoushredded.”A rumble came from

Moishe’s throat, a deep self-satisfied purr. He wasdefinitely proud of himselffor chasing away thewoman

he’dlabeledasthe“badguy.”Hannah laughed and fetchedhim a couple of salmon-flavored kitty treats from thekitchen and then she rushedout the door. She had a stoptomake before she could gotothemayor’sfundraiserandshewasrunninglate.Hannah gave thanks for

Lisaonceagainasshestartedher Suburban, put it intoreverse,andbackedoutofherparkingspot.Aneighborwas

staying with her fathertonight and Lisa had offeredtocartthecookiesandcoffeeurnstothecommunitycenterfor her. By the time Hannaharrived, therefreshment tablewouldbesetupandallshe’dhave to do was smile andserve.Night had fallen and

Hannah switched on herheadlights. Once she exitedthecomplex,sheturnedsouthon Old Lake Road and took

the country road that led tothe Hanks place. She’dpromised Bill that she’d talktoLuannetonighttoseeifthelipstick was one that shecarried. Luanne had finishedhershiftatthecafeatsixandsheshouldbehomebynow.Birch trees lined the sides

of County Road 12, theirwhite bark catching in thebeamsofHannah’sheadlightsas she drove. The Sioux hadused birch bark to make

canoes. When Hannah wasstillingradeschool,herclasshad taken a trip to themuseum to see one. YoungHannah had decided that ifthe Indians had built canoessomany years ago, it shouldbe even easier to do usingmodern tools. Unfortunately,her mother had spotted thebarklesspatcheson the standof birch in their backyard.Her canoe hadn’t gotten pastthe planning stage before

Hannah had received thescolding of her life fromDelores forattempting tokillher birch trees, accompaniedbyaspankingfromherfatherfor pilfering his bestpocketknife.Hannah’s lights caught the

metal reflective triangle thatwas nailed to a tree trunk atthemouthofBaileyRoadandshe slowed to take the turn.Bailey Road was gravelbecause itprovidedaccess to

only three homes. FreddySawyer still lived in hismother’s cottage at the edgeof the puddle they calledLake Bailey. He was mildlyretarded, but Freddy did justfine living by himself anddoingoddjobsforthepeopleintown.ThesecondhouseonBailey Road had beenfinished only last year. OtisCox and his wife had builttheir retirement home on thesite of his parents’ old

cottage.They’dtoldeveryonein town that they liked thequiet and the solitude, butHannahfiguredithadmoretodowiththeLakeEdenstatutethat limited dog owners tothree canines per residence.Otis and Eleanor were crazyaboutdogsandnowthattheylivedoutside the town limits,they could take in as manystraysastheywanted.Hannah grinned as she

drove past the cozy three-

bedroom house. Otis andEleanor’smatchingExplorerswere in the driveway, eachsporting a new bumpersticker.Theywererip-offsofthe old “I ♥ New York”stickers. They read: “I ♠MyDog.”The only other residence

onBaileyRoad,waydownattheendwherethesnowplowshad no room to turn around,wastheoldHanksplace.NedHanks, Luanne’s father, had

recentlydiedofliverdisease,the result of his years ofalcohol abuse.Now thatNedwasgone, theonlyoccupantsof the Hanks place wereLuanne, her mother, andLuanne’s baby daughterSuzie.Asshepulledupinfrontof

the four-room cabin,Hannahthought about Luanne’sstrange reaction toBill.He’dtoldHannahthathe’dstoppedLuanne once, for a broken

taillight on the old car shedrove, and she’d seemedpositively terrified of him.Hannah didn’t understandthat at all. Bill was a giantteddy bear, with his easysmile and his nonthreateningmanner. He didn’t have amean bone in his body, andeveryone inLakeEdenknewit.Hannah reallydidn’tknow

Luanne that well. She’d mether a couple of times when

Michelle had brought herhome from school and she’dseenherat thecafe,but theyhadn’texchangedmorethanafew polite words. All thesame, Hannah admired her.Even though Luanne haddroppedoutofhighschoolinher senior year, she’dcontinuedtostudythroughouther pregnancy and she’dpassed the equivalency testfor her diploma.Luannewasa hard worker at the cafe,

always pleasant and neatlygroomed, and now that herfatherwas dead, shewas thesole support of her motherandSuzie.Thoughtherewererumors, no one really knewwho had fathered Luanne’sbaby.Anyonewho’dhadgallto ask Luanne directly hadreceived a perfectly polite,“I’drathernotsay.”Naturally, Hannah had

brought cookies. She’dpackedupabagwithadozen

of her Old-Fashioned SugarCookiesandshegrabbeditasshe got out of her Suburban.There was a mouthwateringaroma in the crisp night airand Hannah sniffedappreciatively. Someone wascookingsupperanditsmelledlikefriedhamandbiscuits.Luanne was clearly

surprisedtoseeHannahwhensheansweredtheknockatthedoor.“Hannah!Whatareyoudoingwayouthere?”

“I need to talk to you,Luanne.”Hannahhandedherthe cookie bag. “I broughtsome Old-Fashioned SugarCookiesforSuzie.”Luanne’s eyes narrowed

perceptively, and Hannahdidn’t blame her. She waspractically a stranger andafter all Luanne had beenthrough, itwasnaturalnot totrust people. “How nice.Suzie loves sugar cookies.Butwhydoyouneed to talk

tome?”“It’saboutlipstick.Doyou

haveacoupleofminutes?”Luanne hesitated for a

moment, and then said,“Come on in. Just let meservesupperandthenI’mallyours. I already ate at thecafe.”Hannah stepped through

the doorway into a widerectangular room. Thekitchenwasatoneend, therewas a table in the center for

eating, and a couch, twochairs, and a television setwere down at the other end.Thoughitwasshabby,itwassqueaky-clean and two-thirdsofthefloorwascarpetedwithcarpet samples that had beensewntogetherinanattractivecrazy-quiltpattern.Mrs. Hanks was sitting at

the table, holding Luanne’sbaby, and Hannah walkedovertoher.“Hi,Mrs.Hanks.I’m Hannah Swensen.

Luanne went to school withmyyoungestsisterMichelle.”“Sit down, Hannah,” Mrs.

Hanks invited, patting thechair next to her. “Nice ofyou to drop by. You needsomeofLuanne’slipstick?”ForamomentHannahwas

floored, but then sheremembered what she’d saidat the door. Mrs. Hanks hadsharpears.“That’sright.”“Why don’t you get

Hannah a cup of coffee,

honey?” Mrs. Hanksmotioned to Luanne. “It’snippyoutsidetonight.”Luannewalked over to set

a plate of ham, a bowl ofgreen beans, and a basket ofbiscuits on the table. “Howaboutit,Hannah?Wouldyoulikesomecoffee?”“Yes,ifit’smade.”“It’s made.” Luanne went

back to the old wood stoveandfilledacupfromtheblueenamel pot that sat at the

back.Shesetitdowninfrontof Hannah and asked, “Youstill drink it black, don’tyou?”“That’sright.Howdidyou

know?”“From the cafe. The tips

are bigger if I rememberthingslikethat.Justholdonaminute and I’ll put Suzie inher highchair. Then we cantalkaboutthatlipstick.”Luanne slid her daughter

intothehighchairandpushed

upthetray.ShehandedSuziea biscuit and laughed as thelittle girl tried to push thewhole thing into her mouth.“She’s still not clear on theconceptofsmallbites.”“They never are at that

age,”Hannahrespondedwithasmile.Luanne retrieved the

biscuitandbroke it intobite-sizedpieces.Thensheturnedtohermother.“WillyoufeedSuzie,Mom?”

“Sure will. Go on, honey.TakeHannah back and showher what’s in your samplecase.”Hannah followed Luanne

into one of the bedrooms. Itwaspaintedsunnyyellowandthere were frilly whitecurtains at the window.Suzie’s crib was against thefarwall, and a twin bed thatHannah assumed wasLuanne’s was against theother wall. Two plastic

laundry baskets sat in acorner with a few toys ineach. There were threechildren’s books sitting ontopofachild-sizedtable,andHannah noticed a handful ofcrayons in an old bleachbottle that had been partiallycut away to make a crayoncarrier.“That’s Suzie’s corner,”

Luanne explained, motioningtoward the table. “I’mstenciling blue and white

bunnies on the wall thisweekend and I’m going topainthertableblue.”Hannah noticed that the

table was longer than mostchildren’s tables. It was justthe right height for a toddlerlike Suzie and there wasplentyofroomtowork.“Thattable’sperfect.Traceyusedtohave a little square one. Itlookednice,butitwasbarelybig enough for a coloringbook.”

“Suzie’s used to be an oldcoffee table. I just sawed offthelegs.NowallIhavetodoisfindsomethingthatshecanuseforachair.”Hannah remembered the

things in her sister’s garage,all the clothing, toys, andtoddler-sized furniture thatTracey had outgrown.“AndreamayhaveachairforSuzie.I’llaskher.”“No.” Luanne shook her

head.“Iknowyoumeanwell,

Hannah, but we don’t needcharity. We’re getting alongjustfine.”Hannah should have

guessed that Luanne wouldbe too proud to accept anoutright gift. But there werewaysaroundprideandasshestared at the table, Hannahhadanidea.“Believe me, it’s not

charity.” Hannah gave whatshehopedwasanexasperatedsigh. “I promised to help

Andrea clean out the garagethis weekend and cart all ofTracey’stoddlerthingstothedump.”Luanne looked shocked.

“To the dump? You shouldtake them to the thrift store,Hannah. I’m sure somebodywould be glad to buy themsecondhand.”“I know, but this stuff has

been stored for a couple ofyears and Andrea’s too busytogothroughit.It’seasierfor

hertojustdumpit.”Luanne looked thoughtful.

“It’s a shame to think of allthose things just going towaste. I could go through itfor Andrea. Helping Handsalwaysneedscontributions.”“Would you? We could

just haul it out here and youcouldsort itoutoneboxatatime. But you have topromise to pull out anythingthat you can use for Suzie.You deserve it for doing all

thatwork.”“I’ll be glad to do it.”

Luanne sounded pleased attheprospect.“Sitdownatthedressingtable,Hannah.Luannegesturedtowardan

old-fashionedvanity thatwaspaintedaprettyshadeofblue.Itsmirrorwas darkly spottedwith signs of age, and asampling of Pretty Girlcosmetics was arranged onthe top. A battered oldfoldingchairwithamatching

coat of paint sat in front ofthe vanity, and Luannewhisked a stuffed rabbit offthe seat. Once Hannah wasseated,shesmiled.“Yousaidyouneededsomelipstick?”“Yes, I do.” Hannah told

herself that shewasn’t reallylying. She’d already decidedto buy some cosmetics fromLuanne.Anyonewhoworkedthis hard to make a life forher mother and daughterdeservedherhelp.

“What color did you haveinmind?”Luanneasked.“This color.” Hannah

reached into her purse anddrew out the bag thatcontained the cup. “Do youhave anything that matchesthis?”Luanne stared at the cup

for a moment and then shesighed. “You can’twear thatcolor,Hannah.It’llclashwithyourhair.”“Oh, it’s not for me,”

Hannah launched into thestoryshe’dprepared.Billhadwarnedhernottomentiontheinvestigation,butHannahhadthoughtofawayaround thatrestriction. “My mother justloves this shade. She washelpingme takeout the trashtheotherdayandshespottedthis cup with the lipstick onit.”Luanne looked relieved.

“Thenit’sforyourmother?”“That’s right. She toldme

sheused towear lipstick likethis and she can’t find itanywhere in town. I thoughtI’d surprise her with it thenext time I go over there forCarbTuesday.”“CarbTuesday?”“That’s what I call it. I

have dinner with Motherevery Tuesday night andshe’scrazyaboutsweets.Lastnight we had Hawaiian potroast with pineapple slicesandcandiedyams.”

Luanne started to grin. “Ican seewhyyou call itCarbTuesday!”“Youhaven’theardtherest

ofit.Wealsohadasidedishoffriedbananasandnutcakewith chocolate frosting fordessert.Motherhadicecreamontopofhers.”“Yourmothersoundslikea

sugar junkie. Does she evereatitrightoutofthebag?”“I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Hannahlaughed.“Iknowshe

hasastashoffudgebrowniesin her freezer and a wholedrawer filledwith one-poundchocolate bars. I guess Ishould be grateful that sheinvitedCarrieRhodesandherson to join us for dinner.Norman’sadentist.”Luanne gave her a shrewd

look. “I heard that Normanmoved here when his fatherdied.Isyourmothertryingtofixyouupwithhim?”“Of course she is. You

know Delores. She’sdesperatetomarrymeoffandshe’s leaving no single,divorced, or widowed stoneunturned.”“Andyoudon’twanttoget

married?”“I’mjustfinethewayIam.

It would take the combinedefforts of Harrison Ford andSean Connery to change mymind.”“Me too,” Luanne said.

“I’m really glad that lipstick

isn’t for you, Hannah. I’dhatetomissoutonasale,butI’d already decided that Icouldn’t let you walk out ofhere wearing a color that’swrong for you. With thatpretty red hair of yours, youneed to choose from anearthierpalette.”“Butyoudohavealipstick

inthisshade?”“Sure, I do. And your

mother’s right. I’m the onlyoneinLakeEdenwhocarries

it. It’s called ‘Pink Passion’and I stock it for a lady intown.”“That’sgreat,Luanne.This

is going to win me pointswith my mother.” Hannahwas proud of herself. Sheknew where the lipstick hadcome from.Now all she hadto dowas get Luanne to tellher the name of the womanwhowore it. “Tell me aboutthe other woman who wearsit. Mother gets upset if

someone she meets iswearing the same hat or thesame dress. She probablyfeels the same way aboutlipstick.”“Oh, that’s no problem. I

don’t think your mother andDaniellebelongtoanyof thesamegroups.”Hannah zeroed in on the

name. The onlyDanielle sheknew was married to BoydWatson,thewinningestcoachJordan High had ever had.

“AreyoutalkingaboutCoachWatson’swife?”“That’s right. I just about

diedthefirsttimesheorderedit, but it actually looks goodon her. You’ve got to be anaturallightblondtowearit.And Danielle’s hair is soblond,it’salmostwhite.”“AreyousurethatDanielle

Watsonistheonlywomanintown who wears PinkPassion?”“I’m positive.No one else

ordersitfrommeandI’mtheonly Pretty Girl distributoraround.”“Thanks,Luanne.”Hannah

was grateful, more gratefulthanLuanneknew.“Ifyou’vegot a tube of Pink Passion,I’lltakeit.”“I’ve got it. Just sit tight

and I’ll pull it out of mystock.Andwhilewe’re at it,I’ll give you a makeover.Let’s see how attractiveyou’ll look with the right

foundation, a nice shade ofeye shadow, and the perfectcolorlipstick.”“Okay,”Hannah agreed. It

would be rude to refuse andshecouldaskmorequestionsabout Danielle while Luanneplayed beautician. “DoesDanielle order a lot ofmakeupfromyou?”Luanne pulled out a huge

sample case and set it on atable next to the dresser. Itwas much larger than a

briefcase and it opened onboth sides to expose severaltiers. The top tier containedminiature sample tubes oflipstick,thesecondhadsmalljars of foundation andblusher, and the third wasfilled with various shades ofeye shadow, eyeliner, andmascara. Jars of nail polishwere arranged in the bottomand there was a lift-out traywith brushes, cotton swabs,andsponges.

“Danielle’soneofmybestcustomers,”Luanneansweredas she pulled out a jar offoundation. “Sheorders fromourtheatricalline.”“She belongs to the Lake

Eden Players?” Hannahnamedthecommunitytheatergroup that had opened adinnertheater intheoldshoestoreonMainStreet.“I don’t think so.”Luanne

took out several old-fashionedhair clips, theones

thatBertiehadstoppedusingat theCut ’nCurl years ago,and gathered Hannah’s hairback from her face. “Let’sjust get your hair out of theway.”“Why does Danielle wear

theatricalmakeup?”“She has skin problems.”

Luanne began to applyfoundation toHannah’s face.“Close your eyes, Hannah. Ineedtodoyoureyelids,too.”Hannah obediently closed

hereyes,butshecontinuedtoaskquestions. “What kindofskinproblems?”“Blemishes and rashes.

Don’tsaythatImentionedit.Danielle’s very self-conscious about hercondition. She told me thatshe still breaks out like ateenager and it’s not just onher face. She gets horriblerashesonherupperarmsandherneck,too.”“And theatrical makeup

coversthatup?”“Perfectly. Pretty Girl

theatrical makeup will coveralmost anything. Rememberwhen Tricia Barthel got thatblackeye?”“Mmm-hmm.”Hannahdid

her best to answer in theaffirmative without openinghermouth.Luannewasintheprocess of applyingfoundation around her upperlip. She rememberedTricia’sblack eye. Tricia had told

everyonethatshe’drunintoadoor, but Hannah had heardthe real story from LorettaRichardson. Loretta had toldHannah that her daughter,Carly,had thrownanalgebrabook at Tricia when TriciahadputthemovesonCarly’sboyfriend.“Tricia’smotherwasreally

upset because they weretakingseniorpicturesthenextday. She called me in for aconsultationandIusedPretty

Girl’s theatrical foundationon Tricia. It covered herbruises perfectly and she’sordered makeup from meeversince.”“That’s amazing,” Hannah

risked commenting. Luannehadmovedon toherchin.“Isaw Tricia’s picture whentheyranall theseniorphotosin the paper and I didn’t seeanybruises.”“Pretty Girl theatrical

foundation will cover

anythingfromabadbruisetoazit.”Luannesoundedproudof her products. “But youdon’t need it, Hannah. Yourskinisperfect.Youmustusejust the right combination ofmoisturizer and night cream.If I were you, I wouldn’tchangeathing.”Hannah stifled a grin. She

wasn’t planning to changeanything, especially sinceshe’d never used amoisturizer or a night cream

in her life. She washed herfacewithwhatever soapwason sale at the Red Owl andneverthoughttwiceaboutit.“Just lean back and relax,

Hannah,” Luanne said in aprofessional voice. “By thetime I get through with you,you’lllookbetterthanyou’veever looked before in yourlife.”

ChapterSix

When Hannah walked intothe community center, thefirst person she saw was hermother.DeloresSwensenwasholdingcourtatthefarendofthe room, surrounded by acircle of her friends. As

Hannah watched, her motherreached up to pat her sleekdark hair and her tastefuldiamond earrings glittered inthe overhead lights. She waswearing the soft blue dressthat had been in the windowofBeauMondeFashionsandher purse and shoesmatchedperfectly. Hannah’s motherwas still a beautiful womanand she knew it. At fifty-three, Delores was winningthe battle against time and

only Hannah, who’d helpedhermotherwith her financesfor several months followingher father’s death, knewexactly how expensive thatbattle was. Fortunately,Delores had the money tospend. Hannah’s father hadleft Delores in very goodfinancialshapeandshe’dalsoinherited from her parents.There was no way thatDelores could run out ofmoney,evenifsheresortedto

costlytummytucksandface-lifts.Hannahsighedasshemade

her way through the crowd.Withtheexceptionofherhaircolor, Andrea resembledDelores. And Michelle wasanotherpetitebeauty.Bothofher younger sisters hadinherited their mother’sbeautygenes.Hannahwastheonlyoneinthefamilytotakeafter her father. She wascursed with his curly,

unmanageable red hair andshe was at least four inchestaller than her sisters. Whenstrangers saw Delores withher daughters, they assumedthatHannahwasadopted.Delores was laughing at

something that one of herfriends had said. Hannahwaited until the group ofladieshaddisbandedandthenshe walked over to tapDeloresontheshoulder.“Hi,Mother.”

“Hannah?” Delores turnedto face her. Her eyeswidened, her mouth openedin a round O of shock, andshedroppedherpursetograbHannah’shand.“What is it?” Hannah

begantofrown.“Idon’tbelieveit,Hannah!

You’re actually wearingmakeup!”Hannahwaspuzzledbyher

mother’s reaction. She’ddecidedtoweartheresultsof

Luanne’s makeover to thefundraiser,butifshe’dknownthatDeloreswouldreactwithsuch gaping-mouthedastonishment,shewouldhavestopped at The Cookie Jarand washed her face. “Youdon’tlikeit?”“It’ssuchachange.Idon’t

knowwhattosay.”“I can see that.” Hannah

bent over to pick up hermother’s purse. “I guess Ishould have washed it off

beforeIgothere.”“No! It actually looks

good. You surprise me,Hannah. I had no idea youeven knew what eyelinerwas.”“I must have hidden

depths.” Hannah grinned ather mother. “Tell me thetruth, Mother. Do you reallythinkit’sanimprovement?”“It certainly is! Now, if I

could only convince you todress better, you might

actually...”Deloresstoppedspeaking and her eyesnarrowed. “I know you hatemakeup and there’s only onereason you’d go to all thistrouble. Tell me, dear. Didyou do this for NormanRhodes?”“Normanhadnothingtodo

with it. I drove out to seeLuanne Hanks and while Iwas there, she gave me amakeover.”“Oh.” Delores looked

disappointed.“Well,Ithinkitlooks very nice on you. Ifyou’dputonmakeupandgetall dressed up more often, itmightmake a real differenceinyourlife.”Hannah shrugged and

decidedtochangethesubjectbefore her mother went intoone of her lectures. “Haveyou seen Andrea? I reallyneedtotalktoher.”“She’s here somewhere. I

saw her over by the

refreshment table a fewminutesago.”“I’d better go and find

her.” Hannah prepared tomake her escape. “See youlater,Mother.”Hannah searched the

crowd, but she didn’t seeAndrea. She decided she’dlook for her sister later andheaded off toward therefreshment table,whichwasset up on the side of theroom. She was shirking her

duties and Lisa wouldprobably be eager to gethometoherfather.“Hi,Hannah.“Lisasmiled

as Hannah came up to thetable. “Everyone loves yourcookies. Mrs. Beeseman’sbeenbackfourtimes.”“That figures. She loves

anything with chocolate.You’vedoneawonderfuljob,Lisa. If you want to leavenow,Icantakeover.”“I don’t have to leave,

Hannah. My neighbor saidhe’d sit with Dad until I gothome. Besides, I’m reallyhavingfun.”Hannah had trouble

believing what she’d heard.“You think serving coffeeand cookies at a politicalfundraiserisfun?“It’s great. Everybody’s

comingovertotalktomeandthey’re really friendly. Goahead and circulate, Hannah.Youmightbeabletodrumup

somenewbusiness.”“Okay, but consider

yourself on overtime.”Hannahgaveheralong,levellook. If this was Lisa’s ideaof fun, she really needed toget outmore. “I have to talktoBill.Haveyouseenhim?”“Not yet. Your sister said

he’dbelate.Iguesstherewasawhole lot ofpaperwork forhimtodo.Doyouwantmetotell him you’re looking forhimwhenhegetshere?”

“Yes, thanks.” Hannahneeded to tell Bill aboutDanielle Watson, but in themeantime, shemight be abletofindoutwhyDaniellewaswithRonwhenhestockedtheschool’s cooler. “How aboutCoachWatson’swife? Is shehere?”“They were both here a

coupleofminutesago.CoachWatson said that he just gotbackfromabasketballclinic.Hewasgoneforthreedays.”

Hannah’s mind wasspinningasshesetofftofindAndrea. Coach Watson hadbeen gone and Danielle hadbeen with Ron, early thismorning.Hannahdidn’twantto believe that Ron was thetype to have an affair withanother man’s wife, but thatwastheobviousconclusion.AndreawastalkingtoMrs.

Rhodes, but she excusedherself when she sawHannah. “What happened to

you?Youlookfantastic!”“Thanks, Andrea. Do you

haveaminute?”“Of course I do.” Andrea

led the way over to a lesspopulatedcorneroftheroom.“Why are you wearingmakeup?”“LuanneHanks gaveme a

makeover and I didn’t havetime to wash it off. That’swhy I needed to talk to you.WhenIwasoutatLuanne’s,Inoticed that her daughter

doesn’t have many things. Iwasjustwonderingifyouhadany ofTracey’s old furnitureand toys that you could giveher.”“Of course I do. I saved

every single thing sheoutgrew. I’d give it all toLuanne in a heartbeat, but Iknowhowsheisabouttakingcharity.”“No problem. I told her

that you were hauling someof Tracey’s things to the

dumpandIaskedherifshe’dmindifyoudroppedthemoffherathouseinstead.”“Andsheagreed?”“Only after I said that you

didn’t have time to gothrough theboxes and itwasarealshamethatallthatnicestuff would be rotting out atthedump.She’sgoingtopulloutwhatshecanuseandtaketheresttothethriftshop.”“Good job, Hannah!”

Andreareachedouttopather

on the back. “I didn’t thinkyou had a devious bone inyour body, but I guess youmust have learned somethingfromMother.”Hannah spotted Danielle

Watsonfromacrosstheroom.Shewasapartofagroupthatcontained her husband,Marge Beeseman, FatherCoultas, Bonnie Surma, andAl Percy. Danielle was

wearinganicebluedress,andher light blond hair wasarranged in a fashionabletwistat thenapeofherneck.Several feathery curls hungdown near her cheeks tomakeherhairstylelesssevereand her lips were coloredwith the lipstick thatHannahnow recognized as PrettyGirl’sPinkPassion.Hannah moved forward

and joined the fringes of thegroup. The topic of

conversation was RonLaSalle and that didn’tsurprise her. Ron’s murderwas the biggest news to hitLake Eden since littleTommy Bensen had releasedthe brake on his mother’sFord Escort and crashedthrough the plate glasswindow of the FirstMercantileBank.“My Herbie says he was

shotcleanthroughtheheart,”Mrs. Beeseman offered her

tidbitofgossip.“NowMaxisgoing to have to reupholsterthe truck because there wasbloodallovertheplace.”CoachWatson looked sad.

“It’s a terrible loss for TheGulls. Ron came to everypractice and he was a realinspiration.”“Do you suppose it was

some kind of sportsvendetta?” Al Percy asked,his dark bushy eyebrowsalmost meeting in a frown.

“After all, Ron was TheGull’s star player for threeyearsinarow.”Father Coultas shook his

head. “That doesn’t makesense, Al. Everybody likedRon, even the boys on theopposingteams.”“You’re right, Father.”

Coach Watson was quick toagree. “Ron was popularbecauseheplayedfair.”Al continued to frown and

Hannah could see that he

wasn’t ready to give up hissports vendetta theory quiteyet. “Maybe it didn’t haveanything to do with highschool sports. From what Iheard, it was an execution-style killing and that suresmacks of bent-nose types tome.”“Bent-nose?” Bonnie

Surma bristled and Hannahremembered that her maidennamehadbeenPennelli.“AreyoutalkingabouttheMafia?”

Al nodded. “It’s notimpossible, Bonnie.Everybody knows that theyrunthesportsbooksandtheycould have recruited Ron topick up bets with his milkorders.IfRon’stakecameupshort,theymighthaveputoutahitonhim.”“You’re crazy,Al.”Marge

Beeseman obviously didn’tbelieve in mincing words.“Ronwasoneofoursandhenever would have done

something like that. Besides,myHerbiesaysthatMafiahitmen always shoot theirvictims in the back of thehead. Or they use that wirethingtochokethemliketheydidinTheGodfather.”As Hannah watched,

Danielle’snaturallypale faceturnedashadeofsicklygray.The polite smile on her facecrumpledandshelookedasifshe were struggling not toburstintotears.Sheturnedto

herhusband,whisperedafewwords, and then she left thegroup. Hannah watched heras she pushed her waythrough the crowded roomand headed out into thehallwaythatledtotheladies’room.This was her chance and

Hannahwasn’tabouttowasteit. She set off after Danielleas fast as she could. Onceshe’d gained the hallway,Hannah headed straight for

the ladies’ room with onlyonepurposeinmind.Shehadto find out exactly whatDanielle knew about Ron’smurder.

ChapterSeven

As Hannah approached thedoor to the ladies’ room, sheheard the sound of muffledsobbing.Maybeitwasn’tfairof her to take advantage ofDanielle in her grief, butplaying fair wasn’t as

important as helping BillsolveRon’smurder.Hannah pushed open the

door and found Daniellestanding in front of the longmirror above the sinks. Shewasdabbingathereyeswithasoggytissueandshelookedhelpless and frightened. AsHannahsteppedintothepink-tiled room, she felt likeSimon Legree confrontingLittleEliza.“Danielle?” Hannah

rememberedtheoldflies-and-honey maxim and she puteveryounceofsympathyshecould muster into her voice.“What’swrong?”Danielle whirled around,

looking terribly guilty.“Nothing. I just . . .uh . . . Igot something in my eye,that’sall.”“Both eyes?” Hannah

spoke without thinking andinstantly regretted it. Shewouldn’t get anywhere by

alienating Danielle beforeshe’daskedherfirstquestion.“It’s probably dust. It’s beenreally windy today. Do youwantmetotakealook?”“No! Uh . . . thanks

anyway,Hannah.IthinkIgotit.”“Good.” Hannah gave her

the best of her friendlysmiles. She knew that theexcuseDaniellehadgivenherwas a bald-faced lie, but shewas willing to ignore it,

providing Danielle told herwhat she wanted to know.“Isn’t it awful the wayeverybody’s talking aboutRon?”Danielle’s face blanched

again.“Yes,itis.”“Did you see Ron in the

pastcoupleofdays?”Hannahheld her breath. If Danielleadmitted she’d ridden alongtotheschoolwithRon,she’dbe one step closer togathering the facts that Bill

needed.“No. We don’t take home

delivery and I really didn’trun into him all that much.I’vegottogonow,Hannah.”“You just got here.”

Hannahmoved to the side toblock Danielle. “Stay for aminute, Danielle. If I wereyou,I’dfixmymakeup.Yourmascara’sstartingtorun.”“No,it’snot.Ijustchecked

it. I’ve really got to go.Boyd’swaitingformeandhe

doesn’tlikemetobegoneforlong.”“Why not?”Hannah could

feel Danielle’s panic and itdidn’tmakesense.“He. . .uh. . .heworries

aboutmewhen I’m notwithhim.”Daniellewasstandingright

under the overhead lightfixture and Hannah noticedthat the makeup on one sideofher facewasmuch thickerthanitwasontheother.Was

it covering the skin problemthat Luanne had told herabout?“We can talk later,

Hannah. Boyd won’t behappyifIdon’tgetrightbackoutthere.”“Not quite yet.” Hannah

reachedouttotakeDanielle’sarmasshetriedtobrushpasther. The flies-and-honeytactic hadn’t worked and itwas time to play hardball. “IknowyouwerewithRonthis

morning and I need to knowwhy.”Danielle’seyeswidened in

an attempt to look innocent,butatelltaleblushrosetohercheeks. “Ron? You’remistaken,Hannah. I toldyouI haven’t seen him forweeks.”“That’salieandyouknow

it. Why were you at theschool with Ron when hestockedthecooler?”“Who says I was?”

Danielle turned to face herdirectly and there was adefinitechallengeinhereyes.It was clear she wasn’twilling to give up theinformationwithoutafight.“Nobody says it, but I

know youwere.Your coffeecupwassittingonthecounterand you left a smear oflipstickonit.You’retheonlyone inLakeEdenwhowearsthat color, Danielle. Wereyou having an affair with

Ron?”“An affair?” Danielle

seemed genuinely shocked.“That’s ridiculous, Hannah!It’s true IwaswithRon, butwewere just friends.He . . .uh . . .hehelpedmethroughsomeroughtimes.”Danielle’s face had the

verysameexpressionHannahhad once seen on a trappedrabbit.She’dfreedtherabbit,but Hannah wasn’t about tolet Danielle escape before

she’dgivenhersometruthfulanswers. “Let me see if I’vegot this straight, Danielle.Your husband was out oftown, you spent the nightwithanattractivemanwho’sjust a friend, and your friendjust happened to getmurdered this morning onlyminutes after you had coffeetogether?”“I know it sounds bad.”

Danielle sighed and all thebravado seemed to go out of

her. “You’ve got to believeme, Hannah. That’s exactlywhathappened.”“DoesBoydknowthatyou

spentthenightwithRon?”“No!” Danielle looked

sick. “Please don’t tell him!Boyd would neverunderstand!”“Iwon’thavetotellhimif

you start being honest withme. If you and Ron weren’thaving an affair, why wereyouwithhim?”

Danielle glanced at thedoor and then she lookeddown at her arm whereHannah’s fingers gripped it.She shivered and then shenodded. “All right. I’ll tellyou, Hannah, but you’ve gottorespectmyprivacy.I...Ican’t letBoydknowwhere Iwaslastnight.”“Deal,” Hannah agreed.

“But if you know anythingaboutRon’smurder,I’llhaveto give the information to

Bill.”“It doesn’t have anything

to dowithRon’smurder!Atleast, I don’t think it does. Ilied toyou,Hannah . . .Ronand I were more than justfriends. He was my GAsponsor.”“GA?”“Gamblers Anonymous.

WemeeteveryTuesdaynightatthecommunitycollege.”That confession threw

Hannahforaloop.“You’rea

recoveringgambler?”“Yes, but Boyd doesn’t

know.” Danielle reached outand steadied herself againstthewall.“Couldwesitdown,Hannah? I don’t feel verygood.”Hannahledherover to the

couch and chairs that werearranged in a corner of theladies’ room.When Daniellehadtakenaseatonthecouch,Hannah pulled up one of thechairs. “You said that Boyd

doesn’t know about youraddiction?”“No.He’snotaneasyman,

Hannah.Hewants perfectionfrom a wife. I think he’ddivorce me if he ever foundoutthetruth.”Hannah suspected that

Danielle was right. CoachWatson demanded perfectionfrom everyone around him.He was hard on his teamwhentheymadeerrorsontheplayingfieldorthecourt,and

he’d be even harder onDanielle. Danielle might beexaggerating when she saidthat her husband woulddivorce her, butHannahwaswilling to bet that he’d beplenty upset. “You said yougo to GA meetings everyTuesdaynight.Doesn’tBoydaskyouwhereyou’regoing?”“ItoldhimIwastakingan

art class at thecollege. Ihadtolietohim,Hannah.”Itwas time tocutDanielle

a little slack and Hannahknew it. “I can understandthat.I’dprobablydothesamethinginyourplace.Wereyouat the GA meeting lastnight?”“Yes,Iwasthere.”“HowaboutRon?”“Ron was there, too. He

nevermissedameeting.”Hannah zeroed in on the

crux of thematter. “Did yougo home from the meetingwithhim?”

“Of course not. I thoughtthat Boyd would be back bythen and we were going todriveout toTheHubtohavea late supper together. Boydreally likes their steaks. Hesays an athlete doesn’t getenough protein from chickenand fish, and he alwaysmakes his boys eat plenty ofred meat when they’re intraining.”Hannah had seen the boys

from Coach Watson’s teams

wolfing down hamburgers atHalandRose’sCafeandshedidn’t think there was muchdanger they’d be protein-deficient. But Danielle wasdigressing and Hannahneeded to get her back ontrack. “Your husband didn’tcome home last night, didhe?”“No. When I walked in,

there was a message fromBoyd on the answeringmachine. He said he’d

decided to stay over at hismother’s house and he’d behome by noon today. Hedoesn’tseeherthatoftenandI shouldhave just taken it instride, but I expected him tocomehomeand...anditjustthrewmeoff.”Hannah gave her an

encouraging smile. “Ofcourse itdid.Whathappenednext?”“I opened the mail and I

found a check from my

mother. We bought somestocks together andwemadea good profit when we soldthem. If that check hadn’tcome, I think I would havebeen all right. But justlooking at that money mademewanttogamble.”“That’s understandable.

Whatdidyoudo?”“I called Ron. We’re

supposed to call our sponsorright away when we thinkwe’re in trouble. But Ron

wasn’thomeand—”Danielleswallowed hard. “I’m notproud of what I did next,Hannah.”Hannah figured she knew

what Danielle had done, butsheaskedanyway.“Youwentouttogamble?”“Yes.”A tear rolled down

Danielle’s cheek and shewipeditawaywithhersoggytissue. “I used the ATM todepositthecheckandtakeoutsome cash.And then I drove

out to the Indian casino.That’swhereIranintoRon.”“Ron was gambling at

TwinPines?”“No.” Danielle shook her

head quickly. “Ron was atower of strength, Hannah.He’d completely beaten hisaddiction. He told me oncethat he didn’t even have theurgetogambleanymore.”“Then what was he doing

there?”“He was passing out

brochures in the parking lot.OnelookatmeandheknewIwasintrouble,andhegothiscar and followedme back tomy house. I was really gladhe did. Boyd’s GrandCherokee wasn’t runningverywell and Iwas afraid itwouldbreakdownonthewayback.”“Do you know what time

thatwas?”“Eleven o’clock,”Danielle

answered promptly. “The

grandfather clock in thehallway was striking when Iwalkedinthedoor.”“And Ron stayed there

withyou?”“No, hewaited around the

cornerforme.Iwasinprettybad shape, Hannah. I almostscraped the side of myLincoln when I pulled intothegarage.”Hannahnoddedandwaited

for her to go on. She couldsympathizewithDanielle,but

thiswasn’t thetime.Shestillneeded more informationfromher.“Iwentinsidetocheckthe

answering machine again,and then I walked down thealley tomeet Ron. He droveme to his apartment and westayed up all night, drinkingcoffee. That’s exactly whathappened, Hannah. I swearit!”“Why did you go to work

withhim?”

“Ron was late and hedidn’t have time to take mehomeuntillater.Iwentalongon his home delivery routeandthenwewentbacktothedairyandheloadedupforhiscommercialcustomers.Ionlywenttoonecommercialplacewith him. Right after westocked the school cooler, hedroppedmeoffathome.”“What time did Ron bring

youhome?”“It was seven-twenty. I

looked at my watch before Igotoutofhistruck.Ifiguredthat my neighbors might beupbythen,soIduckedinthealleyandwentinthroughthegarage.”“Do you think you would

have noticed if anyone wasfollowingRon’struck?”“I don’t know.” Danielle

lookedfrightened.“I’vebeenthinkingaboutitallday,butIdon’t remember seeinganyonebehindus.”

Hannah leaned forward. IfDanielle knew where Ronhadbeenplanningtogowhenhe’ddroppedheroff,itcouldbeveryhelpful.“Thinkhard,Danielle. Did Ron sayanythingaboutwherehewasgoingwhenheleftyou?”“He didn’t say anything

except goodbye,” Danielle’svoice quavered and shedabbed at her eyes again. “Itriedtotalkhimintogoingtothedentistforhistooth,butI

don’t think he did. Ron hadthis thing about being totallyreliable and making hisdeliveriesontime.”Hannah’s eyebrows shot

up. “His tooth? What waswrongwithhistooth?”“Ithinkitwascracked.He

got into a fight with one ofthe casino bouncerswhen hetried to hand out somepamphlets inside. His jawwasallswollenupanditwashurtinghimalot.Imadehim

put iceon it.That’sgoodfortheswelling.”Hannahflashedbacktothe

last time she’d seen Ronalive.He’d been standing byhis truck,cuppingthesideofhis face. She’d thought thathe looked pensive, but hecould have been holding hishand over a cracked tooth.“WasRon’scrackedtoothontheleftside,Danielle?”“Yes!” Danielle gasped

and stared at Hannah as if

she’d just pulled a rabbit outof a hat. “How did youknow?”“I saw him loading the

truck when I drove to workthis morning and he wascupping the left side of hisjaw.ButIdidn’tseeyou.”“That’s because I was

scruncheddownintheseat.Ididn’t want anyone to spotme with Ron and get thewrongidea.”That made sense. Hannah

knewthelocalgossipswouldhave had a heyday if they’dseenDaniellewithRon.“CanyoudescribethebouncerwhohitRon?”“I wasn’t there. It

happened about an hourbefore I got to the casino. Ithink you could find him,though. Ron told me helanded a couple of goodpunches and he was prettysurehegave theguy a blackeye.”

“Andthat’sallyouknow?”“That’s everything,

Hannah.” Danielle gave adeepsigh.“Youdon’thavetotell Bill about this, do you?Boyd thinks I was home allnight and I really don’twanthimtofindout.”Hannah made one of her

lightning decisions and shehoped shewouldn’t regret it.“I’ll tell Bill what happened,butI’mnotgoingtouseyourname, Danielle. There’s no

reasonhehastoknow.”“Oh, thank you, Hannah!

Youdon’tknowhowmuchIappreciate this. I wanted tosaysomethingsooner,but—”“I understand,” Hannah

interrupted her. “Youcouldn’tsayanythingwithoutletting Boyd know that youwerewithRon.”Danielledippedherheadin

a nod. She still lookedbeautiful, even though hermakeupwassmudgedandher

eyelasheswerestucktogetherin clumps from the tearsshe’d shed. Hannah wasamazed at the differencebetweenthem.Everytimeshecried,whichwasn’toften,hernoseturnedasredasthelighton top of Bill’s cruiser andthe skin around her eyespuffedup. Itwasprettyclearthat when they’d handed outthe gorgeous genes, womenlikeDanielleandAndreahadstolenhershare.

“Take a couple ofminutesand fix your makeup.”Hannah gave her a bracingsmile. “Your mascara reallyisrunningnow.”Danielle looked scared

again. “But Boyd’ll comelookingformeifI’mnotoutsoon.”“I’ll find him and tell him

thatyougotapieceofdustinyoureye.”Hannahhelpedherup and propelled her towardthe mirror. “Don’t worry,

Danielle. Your secret is safewithme.”“I know, Moishe. I was

gone a long time.” Hannahscooped up the orange blurthathurleditselfatherankleswhen she opened her condodoor. That action seemed toappease the needy felinebecausehe started to rumble,deep in his throat. He lickedher hand and Hannah

laughed. “I’m home to staynow. Just let me make onephone call and then we’llhave our bedtime snack andhitthepillows.”Moishefollowedheroutto

the kitchen and watched asshe poured herself a glass ofwhite wine from the greengallon jugofChablis that satin the bottom of herrefrigerator. It was far fromfine wine and Hannah knewthe difference, but it was

cheaper than Sominex orBayer P.M. She opened thecupboard to grab one of theantiquedessertdishesthathermother had given her as aChristmaspresentandfilleditwithMoishe’s favorite brandofvanillayogurt.Hermotherwould be horrified to learnthat theonlyonewho’d everused one of the cut-glassdessert dishes was the catwho’d shredded herstockings.

“Okay, we’re all set.”Hannah clicked off thekitchen light and let Moisheprecede her into the livingroom. He hopped up on thecoffee table and waited forHannah to set down thedessert dish. “You can start,Moishe. I’ll drink my winewhileItalktoBill.”HannahwatchedasMoishe

began to lap up the yogurt.She didn’t know if it wasusual feline behavior since

she’d never shared her homewithacatbefore,butMoishehadperfectedtheactofeatingandpurringsimultaneously.Bill hadn’t arrived at the

fundraiser by the time she’dpacked up, and Hannahassumed that he was still athisdesk,doingbattlewiththequadruplicateformsthatwererequired by the latest paper-reduction act. She punchedout the number of thesheriff’s station and was

rewardedwhenBillansweredonthefirstring.“Bill?” Hannah frowned.

Her favorite, and only,brother-in-law sounded tiredandoutofsorts.“It’sHannah.I managed to identify thewomanwiththepinklipstick,but I can’t tell you who sheis.”Bill’s reaction was loud

and predictable, and Hannahset the phone down on thetable. She knew she should

havebeenmorecarefulaboutthe way she’d phrased thatparticular bit of information,but she’d exceeded her tactquotientforoneday.When the volume of irate

squawks had diminishedsomewhat, Hannah broughtthe phone back to her ear.“Listenup,Bill.Thiswomandoesn’t have anything to dowiththemurder.I’dstakemylife on it. And she split upwith Ron right after they

stocked the school cooler.TheonlywayIcouldgethertotellmeanythingatallwasto promise that I wouldn’trevealheridentity.”The squawks were fewer

this time around andHannahsettledformerelyholdingthereceiver away from her ear.When they stopped, shecontinued. “I can’t breakmypromise to her, Bill. YouknowhowthepeopleinLakeEdenare.Ifthewordgetsout

that I betrayed a confidence,nobody’ll trustmeenough togivemethetimeofday.”“Idon’t like it,butIguess

we’ll just have to play thisyour way.” Bill soundedmollified. “You can talk tothiswomanagain ifweneedher,can’tyou?”“Of course I can. Shewas

cooperative and she’s verygrateful that I’m keeping heridentityasecret.”“You’ll probably get

furtherwith her if she thinksof you like a friend.Remember, Hannah, I don’twantyoutotellanybodythatyou’reinontheinvestigation.You can talk to Andrea, butthat’sit.I’mnotwritingyournameonmyreports.I’mjustreferring to you as mysnitch.”“Your snitch?” Hannah

took a sip of her far-from-premiumwine.“A snitch is a person

whoseidentityisprotectedbythe investigatingofficer.Youmust have learned that fromthose detective shows you’realwayswatching.”Hannah rolled her eyes at

Moishe. “I know what asnitchis.Whycan’tIbeyourundercoveragent?”“My undercover agent?”

That made Bill laugh, butoncehe realized thatHannahwasn’t laughingwithhim,hebacktracked fast. “All right.

Consider yourself myundercover agent. What elsehaveyougot?”“Thewomanwiththepink

lipstick toldme thatRongotintoafightatTwinPineslastnight.Shethinkshecrackedatoothbecausehisjawswelledup. Remember when I toldyou I saw him cupping hisjawthismorning?”“Right. You said you

thought he was thinkingabout something important.

I’ve got it right here in yourinterviewnotes.”“Well, I was wrong. His

tooth hurt and that’s why hehad his hand on the side ofhisface.”There was a moment of

silence and Hannah heard apen scratch. Bill was takingnotes. Finally he said, “Thatmakessense.DidthiswomanknowwhoRonfoughtwithatthecasino?”“No, it happened before

she got there. I’ll try to findoutforyou,Bill.”“I know I asked you to

nose around, but this isn’t agame,Hannah.”Bill soundedworried. “Ronwasmurderedin cold blood and the killerwon’thesitatetotakeyououtif he thinks you’re on tosomething.”Hannah swallowed hard,

the image of Ron’s lifelessbodyflittingacrossthescreenof hermind. “You’re scaring

me,Bill.Doyou really thinkitcouldbethatdangerous?”“Of course it could.

Promise me that you’ll becareful,Hannah.Andcallmerightawaywithanythingyoulearn, even if it’s four in themorning.”“I will. Good night, Bill.”

Hannahshiveredasshehungup the phone. She’d beenthinkingofRon’smurderasapuzzle to be solved, but Billhad reminded her that itwas

dangeroustotrytouncoverakiller. As she finished herwine, Hannah decided thatshe’d be a lot more cautiousinthefuture.Therewasaplaintiveyowl

from the direction of thecoffee table andHannah sawthatMoishewasdoingoneofhis incredibly wide kittyyawns. Itwasdefinitely timeforbed.Shescoopedhimup,carriedhimintothebedroom,and set him down on the

mattress.When she was ready for

bed, Hannah climbed underthe covers and pulled herroommate over for a cuddle.ButMoishehadbeena lonertoo long. Sweet words, earscratches, and tabby treatswould never turn him into atame and obliging house cat.He permitted a few pets, butthen hemovedover to claimHannah’s other pillow andignored her completely by

goingtosleep.

ChapterEight

Hannahwokeupwithastart.She’d been having anightmare and NormanRhodes, an insane dentistwith adrill that sounded likeadumptruckbackingup,hadbeengrindingherteeth.Since

she’drefusedtounclenchherjaw,he’dbeendoinghisevildentistry right through hercheek.When she opened hereyes,shewasrelievedtofindthat it was only Moishe,licking her face with hissandpaper tongue to wakeher.The alarm clock was

serenading her with itsirritatingelectronicbeep,andHannah moved Moishe overso that she could reach out

and shut it off. It was stilldarkoutside, but the securitylight on the side of thebuilding had come on. Sinceit detected any type ofmotion, Hannah figured thatithadbeensetoffbyawinterbird that had swooped downto peck at the birdseed bellshe’d hung outside herwindow.“Okay, I’m getting up. I

know it’s feed-the-kittytime.” Hannah levered her

head from thewarm comfortof her pillow and sat up inbed. She dangled her feetover the side of the mattressandsearchedwithhertoesforthe pair of slippers she keptthere. She nabbed one, thenthe other, and wiggled herfeet into the gray scuffs thathadoncebeenpowderblue.When she got to the

kitchen,thecoffeewasready,and Hannah gave thanks forthe timer she’d rigged to the

kitchen outlet. Some of theolder women in Lake Edencalled strong black coffee“Swedish plasma” andHannah agreed with thatdefinition. She couldn’t eventhink, much less function,until she’d downed at least acup. She poured herself amug of the steaming,caffeine-laden brew, threwsome kitty crunchies intoMoishe’sbowl,andsatdownatthetable.

There was something veryimportant on the docket fortoday. Hannah took a biggulp of her coffee, hoping todispel the morning cobwebsthathadgathered inherheadduring the night. It wasn’t anewcateringjob.Shehadherschedulesetforthisweek.Thesoundofloudchewing

roused Hannah from herzombielike state and sheturnedtolookatMoishe.Hiskittycrunchieswerelivingup

to their name. He waschomping so hard, hesoundedas ifhemightbreakatoothand...“Ron’stooth!That’sit!”Moishe gave her a startled

look and then he buried hishead in his food bowl again.Hannahgrinned.Heprobablythought she was crazy forhollering out loud, but she’djustrememberedwhatTraceyhad told her, right beforeshe’ddiscoveredRon’sbody.

Traceyhad said she’dwavedat Ron and he’d given her a“funny” smile. Peoplewho’djust come from the dentisthad “funny” smiles,especially if the dentist hadgiven them a shot ofnovocaine.AndDanielle hadsaid that she’d urged Ron togotothedentist.Hannahreachedoutforthe

yellow pad she kept on thekitchentableandjotteddowna note to herself.Call every

dentist in town.Did they seeRon yesterday morning?Then she grinned at whatshe’d written. Every dentist?Therewereonly twodentistsin Lake Eden: Doc Bennettand Norman Rhodes. DocBennett was retired, but hestill kept a fewofhis formerpatients in enamel, andHannah hoped that Ron hadbeen one of them. Shecertainly wasn’t lookingforward to the prospect of

calling Norman. He mightthink that she was followinguponhermother’sattemptatmatchmaking and nothingcould be further from thetruth.It took a second mug of

coffee,butatlastHannahfeltshe was ready to face themorning.Sheaddedasecondnote to her first—Drive toTwin Pines to check out thebouncer—and then shepushedbackherchair.Itwas

timetogetreadyforwork.Since she never ate

breakfast, Hannah wasusually ready togo in recordtime.Shemadequickworkofher shower, dressed in fadedjeans and a floweredsweatshirt, and hurried backto thekitchen to fast-forwardthrough the messages on heranswering machine. Theywere all from her mother.Delores sounded like atalking chipmunk at the

increased-speedplaybackandHannah was amused. Sheknewshe’dhavetoreturnhermother’scallseventually,butthat could wait until she gottoTheCookieJar.“Seeyoutonight,Moishe.”

Hannah grabbed her keysfrom the corkboard next tothe phone and glanced at theAfrican violet as she passedby the table. Its leaves wereturning yellow and it lookedin imminent danger of

becoming mulch. Sheshrugged into her bomberjacket and snatched up theplant,carryingitwithheroutthe door. Lisa was a wizardwith plants. She might beabletoresuscitateit.Itwasn’tuntilHannahwas

approaching the dairy that ithither,andshewincedasshedrove past the whitecinderblockbuildingwith thehuge Cozy Cow sign on theroof. Ron was gone. She’d

never see him loading histruckagain.That was a sobering

thought and Hannah almostblew off the stop sign at thecorner of Main and Third.Shemanaged tobrake just intimeandshesmiledguiltilyatHerb Beeseman, who waslurkinginthealleybytheCut’n Curl. Herb just shook hisfingerinagood-natured“no-no” gesture, and Hannahbreathedasighofrelief.Herb

was being very nice thismorning. He could havegivenheraticketforrecklessdriving, but he seemedmoreamused than angry. TheMolasses Crackles she’dgiven him yesterdayafternoon had been a verygoodinvestment.As she turned the corner

and drove into the alleybehind her shop, Hannahwonderedwho’dhauledawayRon’s truck. Max Turner

would be livid if it had beenimpounded and he was onetruck short for his deliveryroutes. She steered a widebertharound theplacewhereRonhadbeenshotandgaveafleeting thought to thedifference between the frontsof the shops and the backs.There were no decorativeplanters in the alley forshrubbery or flowers, noplate-glass windows fordisplaysandsigns.Thebacks

of the shops wereinstitutional-looking, justparking places, Dumpsters,and blank walls with smalldoors set in at regularintervals. It wasn’t a niceplace to die, but that raisedanotherquestion.Wasthereanice place to die?And did itreallymattertothedeceased?Morbid thinking was

getting her nowhere, andHannah drove on down thealley. IfRon had been killed

on the street, there mighthave been witnesses, but thealley was usually desertedand she hadn’t seen anyactivitywhenshe’ddriven inyesterday morning. Eventhough she hadn’t beenpaying much attention,Hannah was sure she wouldhavenoticediftherehadbeenanyone prowling around theDumpsters or standing nearany of the doorways. Theonly other person she’d seen

yesterday morning had beenClaireRodgers.As Hannah unlocked her

backdoor, shedecided she’dhave a chat with Claire. Billor one of the other deputiesmust have alreadyinterviewed her, but itcouldn’t hurt to ask a fewmore questions. Hannah hadthe perfect excuse to talk toClaire. Just as soon as shemixed up her cookie dough,she’ddashnextdoorandtake

a look at the cocktail dressthat Claire had seemed soeagertoselltoher.Sheswitchedonthelights,

fired up the ovens, andheaded for the sink. Aftershe’d slipped on her papercap and given her hands athorough scrub, Hannahreached for the book oflaminated recipes that hungon a hook by the sink. Shewas catering the Lake EdenRegency Romance Club

meetingatfourthisafternoonand she needed to make abatch of Regency GingerCrisps.Hannah read through the

recipe before she began towork. She also used anerasable felt-tippedmarker tocheck off the ingredients assheaddedthemtothebowl.Itwas possible to leave out acritical ingredient when shewas distracted, and Hannahwasdefinitelydistracted.She

couldn’t stop thinking aboutRon’s murder and the cluesshe’d gathered in the pasttwenty-four hours. The wayshe saw it, they had twosuspects: Coach Watson andthe unidentified bouncer atTwinPines.BothofthemhadpossiblemotivestokillRon.CoachWatsonmight have

believed that Danielle washaving an affair with Ron,and jealousy was a powerfulmotive for murder. And if

Ron had landed the “fewgood punches” that Daniellehad told her about, thebouncer could have decidedto follow Ron and take hisrevenge.As Hannah melted,

measured, and mixed, shethoughtaboutthefirstoftheirsuspects. She had to checkoutCoachWatson’salibi,andthe Lake Eden RegencyRomance Club was a goodplace to start. Coach

Watson’s sister, Maryann,wouldbeat themeeting,andHannah could pump her forinformation.Identifying their second

suspect would take a littlework. Hannah planned todrive out to Twin Pinestonight and nose around.She’dfindoutwhichbouncerhad fought with Ron andwhether he had an alibi forthetimeofRon’smurder.Itwasseventwenty-fiveby

thetimeHannahhadfinishedher early-morning work. Inaddition to Regency GingerCrisps, she’d also mixed uptwo batches of ChocolateChipCrunches, threebatchesof Pecan Chews, and onebatchofarecipethatLisahaddeveloped called WhiteChocolateSupremes.“Hi, Hannah,” Lisa called

outcheerfullyas shebreezedthrough the back door atprecisely seven-thirty. She

hungupherparka,tuckedherhair inside a paper cap, andheaded for the sink to washher hands. “What do youwantmetodofirst?”Hannah stashed the last

bowlofdoughinthewalk-incooler and joinedLisa at thesink. “Would you mindputting on the coffee, Lisa?I’vegot a fewphonecalls tomake. Imixed up a batch ofyour White ChocolateSupremes and you can bake

themfirst.We’lltrythemouton the regulars today. Andsee what your green thumbcan do with that Africanviolet on the counter. I don’twant to do jail time forhouseplantabuse.”“Noproblem.I’llsetupthe

tablesandbringyouamugofcoffeewhenit’sready.”When Lisa had left,

Hannah picked up the phoneand punched out DocBennett’s number, listening

toitring.“DocBennett.”Doc sounded curt and

Hannahglanced at the clock.Perhaps seven forty-five wasa bit early to call asemiretireddentist.“Hi,Doc.ThisisHannahSwensenoveratTheCookieJar.”“Hello, Hannah. Still

brushing the way I taughtyou?”“You bet!” Hannah was

relieved. Doc sounded a lot

friendliernow.“Do you have a dental

emergency,Hannah?”“No, everything’s fine.”

Hannah hadn’t been able tocome up with a roundaboutway to ask her question, soshejustblurteditout.“Iwaswondering whether you sawRon LaSalle yesterdaymorningasapatient.”“My office wasn’t open,

Hannah. I took the day offanddroveuptoLittleFallsto

see my sister. You’d bettercheckwithNormanRhodes.Ihear he’s been coming in atthe crack of dawn mostmorningsandtakingwalk-inswithoutappointments.”“Thanks,Doc. I’ll do that.

Anddropinforacookieoneofthesedays.”Hannahhungupthephone

and sighed. Things neverworked out the way shewanted. Now she’d have tocallNorman.

The smell of coffee fromthe shop was enticing, andHannah walked in to fill amug. It hadn’t finishedperking, but it was hot andshe sipped it gratefully. Sheshouldn’thavetocallthemanhermotherhadpickedoutforher without a full load ofcaffeinetosustainher.“The coffee’s not ready

yet, Hannah.” Lisa turned togiveheracuriousglance.“That’s okay.” Hannah

tookanothersipofthecoffee-flavored water. Then shethoughtaboutTwinPinesandhow seldom Lisa got out ofthe house. “Can you getsomeone to sit with yourfather tonight? I’m drivingout to Twin Pines and I’lltreat you to supper if youwanttocomealong.”“I’dloveto.Theneighbors

liketositwithDad,nowthatwe bought that big-screenTV.Whyareyougoingoutto

theIndiancasino?”Hannah rememberedBill’s

caution about not tellinganyone that she was doinglegwork for him. “I’ve neverbeen there and I’ve alwayswantedtoseetheplace.”“Me, too. Herb Beeseman

saystheyhavegreatribs.”“Thenwe’ll have the ribs.

And we’ll take all thequarters in the cash registerandfeedtheslots.”SoLisahadbeentalkingto

Herb. Hannah stored thatawayforfuturereferenceandwalked back to the bakeryfeelingmuchbetter.Lisawasgood company, and as far asanyone else was concerned,they were just going out tothe casino to eat ribs andgamble.ItwastimetocallNorman.

Hannahreachedforthephoneand punched out his officenumber. If Normanmisinterpreted the reason for

her call,Billwould oweher.She twisted the cord aroundher fingers as it rang severaltimes and then Normanpickedup.“Rhodes Dental Clinic.

NormanRhodesspeaking.”“Hi, Norman. It’s Hannah

Swensen.”“Hello, Hannah.” Norman

soundedpleasedtohearfromher. “Did you call yourmotheryet?”“Mymother?”

“She called me thismorning to ask if I’d seenyou. She said she’d left abunch of messages on youranswering machine, but youhadn’tcalledherback.”“Guilty,”Hannahadmitted.

“I didn’t check my machineuntil thismorning and then Iwasinarush.Idon’tsupposeyouhappentoknowwhatshewanted?”“Not really. But she did

ask whatmy intentions were

towardyou.”“What?”“Relax, Hannah. My

mother’s the same way. Itmust be in the genes. Theynever stop trying to controlyourlife.”Hannah wasn’t about to

ask Norman what he’d said.She really didn’t want toknow.“I’vegotaquestionforyou, Norman. Did RonLaSalle come in to see youyesterdaymorning?”

Therewasalongpauseandthen Norman sighed. “I’msorry,Hannah,butIcan’ttellyou that. All informationregarding a patient’s visit isconfidential.”“Then Ron was your

patient?”Hannah heard a distinct

gulp on the other end of theline.“Ididn’tsaythat!”“Ofcourseyoudidn’t.”“Thenwhydidyouassume

thathewas?”

Hannah smiled, verypleasedwith herself. Perhapsshe’d actually learnedsomething in that requiredlogic course she’d taken. “IfRonwasn’tyourpatient,youcould tell me he wasn’t.There’snobreachofethicsinthat. But you said that youcouldn’t tell me and thatmeanshewas.”There was another beat of

silence and then Normanchuckled. “You’re quick,

Hannah. And you’re right. Iguess itcan’tdoanyharmtotell you now. Ron was myfirst appointment of themorning. He came inpresenting considerable painfromafissuredmolar.”“Acrackedtooth?”“Yes, in layman’s terms.

I’msorry,Hannah.I’vegotapatientinthechairandIcan’ttalknow.Justhangonandletmecheckmyschedule.”Hannah waited, shifting

from foot to foot. This wasimportant. Norman mighthave been the last person totalktoRon.“Hannah?” Norman came

backontheline.“I’mbookedsolidthismorning,butIdon’thave anyone scheduled forone. Ifyoucomein then, I’lltellyouallaboutit.”“You want me to come

in?”“I think it would be best,

don’t you? We really

shouldn’t talk aboutsomething this sensitive onthephone. I’llpickupsaladsand sandwiches at the cafeand we’ll have lunch whilewe talk. I have somethingveryimportanttoaskyou.”Hannah made a face. The

last thing she wanted to dowashavelunchwithNorman,butifshewantedtohelpBillsolve Ron’smurder, she hadtogatherallthefacts.Andtheone person left alive who

could tell her what hadhappenedduringRon’sdentalappointment was the dentisthimself.“All right, Norman,”

Hannah caved in to theinevitable with all the goodgrace she could muster. “I’llseeyouatone.”

REGENCYGINGERCRISPS

Donotpreheatovenyet—doughmustchillbeforebaking.

¾ cupmeltedbutter

(1½sticks)

1 cupbrownsugar

1 largebeatenegg (ortwomedium,justwhipthemupwith

afork)4tablespoonsmolasses(that’s¼ cup)***

2teaspoonsbakingsoda

½teaspoonsalt

2teaspoonsgroundginger

2¼ cupsflour(notsifted)

½ cupwhitesugarin asmallbowl

(forlater)

Meltbutterandmixinsugar.

Letmixturecoolandthenaddegg(s).Addsoda,molasses,salt,andginger.Stir

itthoroughly.Addflourandmixin.Chillthedoughforatleast1

hour.(Overnightisevenbetter.)

When

thedoughhaschilled,preheatovento

375degreesF.,rackinthemiddleposition.

Roll

doughintowalnut-sized

ballswithyourhands.Rollthedoughballsinwhitesugar.(Justdumpthem

inthebowlwiththesugarandshakethebowlgentlytocoatthem.)

Placethemongreasedcookiesheets,12toastandardsheet.Flattenthemwitha

spatula.

Bakeat375degreesF.for10to12

minutesoruntilnicelybrowned.Cooloncookiesheetsfornomorethanl

minute,andthenremovetowireracktofinishcooling.(Ifyouleavethese

onthecookiesheetsfortoolong,they’llstick.)

***Tomeasuremolasses,

firstspraytheinsideof ameasuringcupwithPamsothatthemolasseswon’t

sticktothesidesofthecup.

Servedtheseat Mother’sRegencyRomance

Club. Theyasked me forsomethingfrom theRegencyPeriod. Whynot?

(Traceylovestheseas a

bedtimesnackwithaglassofmilk.)

Yield:

6 to7dozen,dependingon

cookiesize.

ChapterNine

Her shop was every bit ascrowded as yesterday, andHannah was relieved whenthepredictableeleveno’clocklullarrived.Itwasthetimeofday when Lake Edenresidents decided that it was

toolateforabreakfastcookieand too early for a lunchcookie. The break gaveHannah time to gather herwits and continue herunofficial, but deputy-sanctioned,investigation.Sheput on a fresh pot of coffee,wipeddownthecounteruntilit was sparkling, and wentthrough the swingingdoor tothebakerytotalktoLisa.Lisahadjust takenthelast

panofcookiesfromtheoven

andshegreetedHannahwitha smile. “I’m finished withthe baking, Hannah. Andyourplant’sgoingtomakeit.Its roots just needed to besoaked.”“Thanks, Lisa.” Belatedly

Hannah remembered theinstructions her mother hadgiven her with the plant.African violets needed to bewatered from thebottomandnotfromthetop.Shewalkedovertoglanceattheplantand

saw that it looked muchperkier. “I think it needs anew caregiver. Take it homewithyou,Lisa.”Lisa smiled, clearly

delightedwith theoffer.“It’sa hybrid called ‘Verona’sDelight,’ and it’ll be justgorgeouswhenitblooms.Areyoureallysurethatyoudon’twantit?”“I’mpositive. It’ll be a lot

happier with you. Can youhold down the fort for me

while I run next door to talktoClaire?”“Sure.” Lisa whisked off

herbaker’sapronandtiedonthefancyonesheworewhenshehandled thecounter. “Goahead,Hannah.”Hannah stepped out the

back door and immediatelyshivered. The temperaturehad dropped at least tendegrees and the clouds weregray and ominous-looking.The radio weatherman had

promised clear skies, butshe’d been listening to aMinneapolis station and thatwasfiftymilesaway.Claire’sToyotawas inher

parking spot and Hannahwalked over to knock on theback door of Beau MondeFashions. Claire didn’t openuntil noon onThursdays, butshewasobviouslyhere.“Hello, Hannah,” Claire

greeted her with a smile.“Come in and I’ll show you

that darling dress. I had topull itoff the rackyesterday.LydiaGradin asked to try it,but it wouldn’t have beenright for her. And KateMaschler had her eye on it,too.”Hannah felt immediately

guilty.Becauseofher,Clairehadlostapotentialsale.“Youshould have let one of thembuy it,Claire. I haven’t eventriediton.”“Butyouwill.And it’llbe

absolutely perfect. Come in,Hannah.I’llshowyou.”Hannahsighedandstepped

intoClaire’s tiny back room.There was an ironing boardset up in a corner next to astackofdressboxes ready tobeassembled.Theairsmelledhot. Claire had obviouslybeen pressing out thewrinklesinhernewshipment,andHannahfollowedherpastracks of newly arrivedclothing and stepped around

the sewingmachine thatwassetupforalterations.Shewasfrowning as she steppedthroughthegapinthecurtainthat separated the back roomfrom the dress shop. Sheknewshe’dhavetotryonthedress that Claire had chosenfor her. It would be rude torefuse.“Hereit is!”Claireopened

the closet that held her mostexpensive dresses andremovedahanger thathelda

black silk cocktail dress.“Isn’titjustdarling?”Hannahnodded.Whatelse

could she do? It looked likean ordinary dress to her, butshe knew next to nothingaboutfashion,andClairewastheexpert.“Gorightinandtryiton.”

Claire led theway to one ofher little dressing rooms.“Would you like me to helpyou?”“No, thanks. I can

manage.” Hannah walkedinto Claire’s posh littledressing room and shut thedoor. “Are you out there,Claire?”“I’m here,” Claire’s voice

floated in through the opentransom.“Doyouneedmetozipyouup?”“No, I’m fine. I just

wondered if you saw anyonein the alley yesterdaymorning.”“Just you, Hannah. Bill

already asked and I told himthesamething.”“How about later?”

Hannah unzipped her jeansandletthemslipdownintoadenimpilearoundherankles.“Ididn’tgooutagainuntil

Iheardallthecommotion.”Hannah kicked her jeans

over to a spot near to themirror and pulled off hersweatshirt. “Are you sure?Yousaidyouwereunpackinga new shipment. Didn’t you

go out to throw any packingmaterialsintheDumpster?”“I don’t think . . . Yes, I

did!” Claire soundedsurprised. “You’re right,Hannah. I broke down somecartonsandcarried themout.Andtherewassomeoneinthealley. A homeless man washuddled up in the thrift shopdoorway, waiting for it toopen.”“Do you have any idea

whattimethatwas?”Hannah

asked as she removed theblackdressfromthehanger.“I think it was about a

quarter to eight. When I gotbackinside,Ipressedadressand then Becky Summerscalledtoaskifthealterationswere finished on her newpantsuit. I glanced at mywatch and I rememberthinking that only Beckywould have the nerve to callme a full two hours before Iopened, so itmusthavebeen

eight.”“What did this homeless

manlooklike?”“I’msureyou’veseenhim

around town, Hannah. He’stall and his hair sticks up inspikes.It’sthisawfulred....” Claire paused and shesounded embarrassed whenshespokeagain.“It’snotlikeyourhair,Hannah.Yoursisalovely auburn color. Thisman’s hair is so red, it’salmostorange,likeaclown.”

Hannahaddedthattidbittoher memory banks as shelifted thedressoverherheadand stuck her arms throughthe sleeves. Shewiggled, thesilk slipped down with aslither, and she reachedbehind her to pull up thezipper by its little tab. Thedress fit her perfectly. Clairehadagoodeyeforsize.“Does it fityou,Hannah?”

Claire’s voice floated inagain.

“Like a glove.” Hannahtook a deep breath andglanced in the mirror. Thestranger that stared back atherlookedshocked.Notonlydid the dress fit—it wasstunningonher.AndHannahhad never looked stunningbeforeinherlife.“Doyoulikeit?”It took Hannah a moment

tofindhervoice.“It’s...uh...it’sgreat.”“Come out and letme see

if I need to do anyalterations.”“You don’t.” Hannah

kicked off her favorite oldNikes.Theydidn’texactlygowith her new image. Andthensheopenedthedoorandwalkedout.Claire’s mouth dropped

open when she saw her. “Iknew itwould be perfect foryou, but I had no idea itwouldturnyouintoafemmefatale. You have to take it,

Hannah. I’ll give you a hugediscount. This dress wasmadeforyou.”“I think you’re right.”

There was wonder inHannah’s voice as Claire ledher over to the three-waymirror and she studied herreflection. She lookedsophisticated, gorgeous, andutterlyfeminine.“You want it, don’t you,

Hannah?”Hannah turned to the

mirroragain. If she squinted,the woman who stared backat her looked a little likeKatharine Hepburn. Her firstinstinct was to tell Claire towrap up the dress, that pricewas no object, but realityintruded.Pricewas anobjectandsheknewit.“OfcourseIwant it,but Idon’tknowif Icanaffordit.Howmuchdoesitcost?”“Forget what I said about

the discount. I’ll give it to

you atmy cost. Just promisethat you won’t tell anyonewhatyoupaid.”“Okay,”Hannahpromised.

“Howmuchisit?”“It retails for one-eighty,

but you can have it forninety.”Hannah didn’t hesitate. A

dress like this came alongonlyonceinalifetime.“Sold.I’ll never have a chance towear it and it’ll probablyhanginmyclosetfortherest

of my life, but you’re right.I’vegottohaveit.”“Goodgirl!”Claire looked

very pleased. “But what doyoumean, youwon’t have achance to wear it? TheWoodleys’ annual party istomorrownight.”Hannah blinked. She’d

stuck her invitation in adrawer and forgotten allaboutit.“DoyouthinkthatIshouldwearthisdress?”“I’lltelleveryonethatyour

cookies are lousy if youdon’t,” Claire threatened.“You’regoingtoknockthemdead tomorrow night,Hannah. And on Saturdaymorning, your phone’s goingtoberingingoffthehook.”Hannah laughed. Perhaps

Claire was psychic and herphone would ring off thehook.Butninety-ninepercentof those callswould be fromDelores, trying to find outwhichmanshe’dbeen trying

toimpress.Hannah stashed the dress

box in her Suburban andwalked back into the bakerywithabemusedexpressiononher face. She’d certainlyspent a lot ofmoney helpingBill investigate Ron’smurder. She’d dropped fiftydollars with Luanne for thecosmetics and she’d spentninety with Claire for the

dress.As she passed the work

island, thephoneon thewallstartedtoring.Hannahcalledout to tellLisa that she’dgetitandpickedupthereceiver.“The Cookie Jar. This isHannah.”“Hi, Hannah.” It was Bill

and he sounded discouraged.“I’m just checking in withyou.I’mouthereatthedairydoinginterviews.”“Did you learn anything

new?”“Notathing.Everyoneelse

came in at seven-thirty andRon had already loaded upandleftbythen.”“How about Max Turner?

Didyouspeaktohimyet?”“No. Hold on a second,

Hannah.” There was alengthy pause and then Billcamebackontheline.“Bettystill expects him to call intoday. I told her to get anumberandI’dcallhimback

to tell him about Ron. Howabout you? Do you haveanythingforme?”“Yes, and it could be

important. I talked to ClaireRodgersandsherememberedthat she sawahomelessmaninthealleyaboutsevenforty-five. He was huddled in thethrift shop doorway and shegavemeadescription.”“Let me get out my

notebook.”Therewasanotherpause and then Bill spoke

again.“Okay.Giveittome.”“He was wearing baggy

clothesandhehadbright redhair sticking up in spikes.Claire said she’d seen himaroundtownbefore.”“Goodwork,Hannah.”Bill

sounded pleased. “I’ll runovertothesoupkitchenattheBibleChurch and see if theyknow who he is. And I’llcheck with the thrift shop.They might have let him in.Anythingelse?”

“Maybe, but I’m not sure.Ron went to the dentist forthat cracked tooth I told youabout, and that was why hewasrunninglate.I’llgetbackto you the minute I knowmore.”Hannahhungupthephone

and then she picked it upagain to punch out hermother’s number. Shecouldn’t put Delores offforever.Asshelistenedtotheempty ringing, she began to

smile. Her mother was outand she left a briefmessage.“Hi, it’s Hannah. I’m justreturning your call. Guessyoumustbeout. I’ll seeyoulaterattheRegencyRomanceClubmeeting.”Hannah had just hung up

when Lisa stuck her headaround the side of theswingingdoor.“Yoursister’shere,Hannah.”“Send her back here with

twomugsofcoffee,”Hannah

instructed, walking to thecounter to pile a half-dozenWhite Chocolate Supremeson a plate. There weren’tmany left and she suspectedthat Lisa’s new recipe hadbeen a success. Then she satdown on a stool andwondered what new crisishad brought Andrea to TheCookieJarfortheseconddayinarow.“Hi, Hannah,” Andrea

greeted her. “Here’s your

coffee.” She plunked downthe twomugs of coffee, sawthecookies, andgrabbedonebefore she even sat down.“These new cookies areheavenly.Everybody’sravingabout them and they’re allsold out up front. Lisa gaveme the last one while I waswaitingforyou.”Hannahsmiled.“I’mreally

glad theywent over so well.Lisa worked a long time ontherecipe.”

“They’re Lisa’s?” Andrealooked surprised. “That’sfunny.Shedidn’tsayawordaboutittome.”“She wouldn’t. Lisa’s still

alittleshyaboutherbaking.”“Well, shedoesn’t have to

be. These are winners.”Andrea reached for anothercookie.“What brings you in,

Andrea?” Hannah mentallyprepared herself for anothersibling crisis. “I just got off

the phone with Bill and hesounded fine. Tracey’s okay,isn’tshe?”“Tracey’s fine.

Everything’s fine. I don’thave another showing untilthreeandI justdroppedin tosayhello.”Hannah raised her

eyebrows. Andrea never justdropped in. “I’m busytonight,butIcanbehomebyeight-thirty.IsthattoolatetodropTraceyoff?”

“WhywouldIwanttodropTracey off?” Andrea lookedconfused. “What are youtalkingabout,Hannah?”“You don’t need a sitter

tonight?”“No.”A dull flush rose to

Andrea’s cheeks. “I’ve reallybeentakingadvantageofyou,haven’tI?”“Of course not.” Hannah

shook her head. “I enjoyspending time with Tracey.She’sagreatkid.”

“I know, butwhen I camein, you just assumed that Ineeded something. I’m not avery good sister, Hannah. Itake and I take, but I nevergiveback.”Hannah was

uncomfortable. This wasgetting altogether too seriousto suit her. “Oh yeah? YouurgedmetoopenTheCookieJar. I’d call that giving backinspades.”“You’reright.Ididsuggest

it.”Andrealookedpleasedfora moment. “But I reallyshould do more for you,Hannah.Youhelpmeoutallthe time and I never knowhow to return the favor. Ifyou’d just ask me forsomething,I’ddoit.”Suddenly Hannah had a

brilliant thought. “That’sabouttochange.Ifyoureallywanttodosomethingforme,youcancomealongwithmeto the dentist. My

appointment’satone.”“OfcourseI’llcome,butI

didn’t know you were afraidtogotothedentist.”“Believe me, I am,”

Hannah said with a grin,“especially when the dentistisNormanRhodes.”Andrea’s mouth dropped

open. “But Mother said shetried to setyouupwithhim!Whyareyoulettinghimworkonyourteeth?”“I’mnot.RightbeforeRon

was killed, he had anappointment with Norman. Icalled him this morning andhe confirmed that he’d seenRon,butherefusedtodiscussitonthephone.Hesaidhe’dtell me all about it if I methimforlunchathisoffice.”Andrea lifted her

eyebrows.“Verysneaky.Andyou’re afraid that he’s usingthis opportunity to put themovesonyou?”“No, that’s not it. He

seemedgenuinelyniceonthephone,butIdon’treallywanttobealonewithhim.”“Why not? Unless . . .”

Andreastoppedspeakingandher eyes widened. “Do youthinkNorman’sasuspect?”Hannahshrugged.“No,but

I can’t entirely rule that out.Norman was one of the lastpeopletoseeRonalive,andIwon’t know if he’s got analibiuntilIaskhim.”“I’ll gowithyou,”Andrea

agreedquickly. “Hecan’t tryanything with both of usthere. And while you’rehavinglunchandgrillinghimaboutRon, I’ll snoop aroundto see if I can find anyevidence.”“Uh . . . maybe that’s not

suchagoodidea,Andrea.”“Why? I’m a great

snooper, Hannah. I used tosnoop through Mother’sthings all the time and shenever knew I did it.Besides,

I’ll be helping Bill, and awife’s supposed to help herhusband.”“It could be risky,

Andrea.”“Notifweworkoutatime

scheduleandsticktoit.Howlong do you think you cankeephimoccupied?”Hannah considered it

seriously. “No more thantwentyminutes.”“I’ve got to have longer

thanthat.Howaboutthirty?”

“Twenty-five and not asecond more,” Hannah saidfirmly.“I’lltellhimIwanttoeat lunch in his office andyour time starts the instantthatIclosethedoor.”“Okay. We’ll synchronize

our watches before we go inand I promise I won’t getcaught.”“I hope not. I think it’s

illegal.” Hannah was alreadybeginning to regret askingAndreatogoalong.

“How can just lookingthroughsomebody’sthingsbeillegal?It’snotlikeI’mgoingtostealanything,Hannah.IfIfindanyevidence,I’llleaveitright where it is and we cantellBill.”“I’m still not sure this is

suchagoodidea.”“Maybe it isn’t, butwe’ve

got to do something to helpBill solve Ron’s murder. Hewon’t mind, not when Iexplainittohim.Isitago?”

Hannah agreed reluctantly.If Bill ever found out thatshe’d allowed Andrea tosnoop through Norman’soffice, he’d do more thanmind. He’d kill her first andaskquestionslater.

ChapterTen

Hannah speared a piece ofromaine lettucewithher forkandmanagedtoglanceatherwatch.Onlyfiveminuteshadpassedsinceshe’dclosed thedoor of Norman’s privateoffice and he’d already told

herallabouthisappointmentwithRon.Norman’s account hadn’t

held any surprises. Ron hadcome in complaining of painandNormanhadgivenhimashotofXylocaine.Ronhadn’twanted to take the time torepairthetoothrightthen,buthe’d promised to come backtoNorman’sofficerightafterhe’d finished his deliveries.Of course he hadn’t comeback. Ron had been killed

before the shot had evenbeguntowearoff.“Did Ron seem nervous

about anything?” Hannahasked another question fromthementallistshe’dprepared.Norman chewed and

swallowed. “Not really. Hewas anxious about gettingback to work, but that wasall.”“Did he tell you how he

crackedhistooth?”“He said he’d been in a

fight, but I didn’t press himfor the details.Now Iwish Ihad.”“That’s okay, Norman.”

Hannah gave him herfriendliestsmile.“Youdidn’thaveanywayofknowingthatRonwas going to leave hereandgethimselfshot.”“I guess not. I wish I’d

paidmoreattention,though.Icould have asked him morequestions about it when Iexaminedhim.Hewasinthe

chair for at least twentyminutes.”“I don’t think that would

have done much good.Withhis mouth propped open andthat little rubber sheetcovering his tongue, hecouldn’t have told you verymuch.”“It’s calleda rubberdam,”

Norman corrected her, andthere was a gleam of humorin his eyes. “You’ve got apoint, Hannah. They taught

us about conversing withpatients inDentalProcedures101. Never ask a questionthat can’t be answered byGghhh,orGghhh-Gghhh.”Hannahlaughed.Norman’s

sense of humor was apleasant surprise. Perhaps hewasn’t so bad, after all. Andhe’d certainly spruced up hisfather’s clinic. Theinstitutional green walls inthe waiting room had beenfreshlypaintedwithacoatof

sunshine yellow, the dustyandfadedvenetianblindshadbeen replaced with tiebackcurtains in a sunflower print,and the old gray couch andhard-backedchairshadgivenway toanewsetofmatchedfurniture that would havelooked good in any LakeEden living room. The onlythings that hadn’t changedwere the copies of outdatedmagazines that were stackedin thenewwoodenmagazine

holderonthewall.“You’ve done a lot with

this place,Norman.”Hannahglanced around Norman’soffice appreciatively. He’dkepthisfather’solddesk,butit had been refinishedwith alight oak stain and therewasafreshcoatofpalebluepainton the walls. She lookeddownatthedarkerbluewall-to-wallcarpetingandaskedaquestion that had nothing todo with Ron’s murder. “Did

you install this samecarpeting in the examiningrooms?”Normanshookhishead.“I

couldn’t. The floors in therehave to be washable. Ireplaced the linoleum andpainted the walls, but that’saboutit.”“Howaboutthewindows?”“I ordered some fabric

vertical blinds, but theyhaven’tcomeinyet.AndI’mlooking for new artwork for

thewalls.”“That’s good. That old

Rockwell print of the boy inthe dentist’s waiting roomusedtoscaremehalftodeathwhenIwasakid.”“It scared me, too,”

Normanadmittedwithagrin.“Helookedsomiserablewiththat big white napkin tiedaround his jaw. I told Dad Ididn’t think it was a verygood advertisement forpainless dentistry, but he

seemed to think that it wasfunny. Dental humor, Iguess.”“Like, I got my tongue

wrapped aroundmy eyetoothandIcouldn’tseewhatIwassaying?”“That was one of Dad’s

favorites,” Norman laughedandtookanotherPecanChewfromthebagthatHannahhadbrought. “These cookies arereallygood,Hannah.”“Thanks. Next time I’ll

leaveontheshellsandyou’llgetlotsofnewpatients.”“I’ve already got that

covered, Hannah. I’m goingto send out tins of taffy forthe holidays with my officenumberprintedonthelids.”Hannah laughed, but she

reminded herself to get backon track with her questions.Norman seemed a lotdifferent here in his office,andshewasactuallyenjoyingtheir visit. “Did you notice

anything unusual about Ronwhen he came in? Anythingatall?”“No. I toldyou everything

I could think of. I wish Icouldhelpyoumore,butRonseemed like just an ordinarydentalemergencytome.”“Will you call me right

away if you rememberanythingelse?”“Sure,”Norman agreed. “I

know you’re helping yourbrother-in-lawsolvethecase,

butIjustdon’thaveanymoreinformationtogiveyou.”“Hold on, Norman. I

haven’ttoldanybodythatI’mhelping Bill. How did youguess?”“Nobody’sthatnosyabout

a twenty-minute dentalappointment,” Normanpointedout.“Andwhenyourmother told me that yoursister’shusbandwasworkingonthecase,Ijustputtwoandtwotogether.”

“Please don’t tell anyone,Norman.”“Relax, Hannah. I won’t

give you away.Doyou haveany other questions for me?Or can I ask you myquestion?”“There’s one more.”

Hannah took a deep breath.ShehadtofindoutifNormanhad an alibi for the time ofRon’s death. “Did any otherpatients come in right afteryoutreatedRon?”

“Just one. It was anotherfissuredmolar,butitwaspartof a bridge, so itwas simpleto repair.Shewas inandoutinlessthanthirtyminutes.”Hannah felt strangely

relieved that Norman had analibi. She was reallybeginningtolikehim.Allshehad to do was check withNorman’s second patient ofthe morning and he’d be intheclear.“Ineedtoknowhername,Norman.”

“Youdon’tknow?”“How could I? Look,

Norman, Iknowyourpatientlist is confidential, but all Ineed is her name. I have toaskher if shesawRonwhenshecamein.”Norman began to grin. “I

guessyouhaven’tcalledyourmotherbackyet.”“I called her. She wasn’t

home and I got hermachine.Whatdoesmymotherhavetodowithit?”

Norman’sgringrewwider.“I thought she would havetold you by now. Yourmother was my secondappointment.”“That’sjustgreat!”Hannah

gave a deep sigh. “Motherleft me a dozen messagessayingthatshehadsomethingimportanttotellme,butshe’salways got somethingimportant to tellme.Did shetalk to you about seeingRon?”

“Yes, but she didn’tactually see him. And shedidn’trealizeitwasimportantuntil she got home from themayor’s fundraiser. She sawRon’s truck driving awaywhen she parked in front oftheoffice.”Hannahdecidedshewould

checkwith hermother at theRegency Romance Clubmeeting, but it seemed as ifNormanhadanironcladalibi.IfDeloreshadbeenwithhim,

he couldn’t have followedRon and killed him. ThatmadeHannahwish that therewere some way to stopAndreainmid-snoop.“Now,Hannah?”“Now what?” Hannah

lookedupathim,startled.“Areyoureadytolistento

myquestionnow?”“OfcourseIam.Whatisit,

Norman?”“I was in dental school

whenmyparentsmovedhere

and I only came to vist acoupleoftimes.Ireallydon’tknow much about LakeEden.”“There’s not much to

know.”Hannahgrinned.“But I’m invited to the

Woodleys’ party and mymother says it’s the socialeventoftheyear.She’sneverhad the chance to go. Momand Dad always took theirvacation the last week inOctoberandtheywereoutof

town. She says that I shouldgo and try to promote newbusinessfortheclinic.”“Your mother’s right. All

the important people inLakeEden are invited and it’s agreat party. I think youshouldgo,Norman.Youneedtomeet all the local familiesif you want your practice tobeasuccess.”“Then I’ll go. Tell me

about the Woodleys. I’venevermetthem.”

Hannah sneaked a peek atherwatch again and shewassurprised to see that twentyminutes had already passed.“Delano Raymond Woodleyis one of the richest men inLakeEden.HeownsDelRayManufacturing and thecompany employs over twohundredlocalworkers.”“Delano?” Norman picked

up on the name. “Is theWoodleyfamilyrelatedtotheRoosevelts?”

“No,but they’d like tobe.From what I hear, Del’smother and father werestrictly middle-class. Hismother just wanted to givehim a famous name. It musthave worked because Delmarried a Boston socialite.Her name is Judith and herfamily’s in the socialregister.”“Judith,notJudy?”Hannah laughed. “I called

herJudyonceandshenearly

tookmyheadoff.Shecomesfrom‘oldmoney,’butoneofMother’s friends did someresearch and found out thatJudith’s father squandered itallaway.AllJudithhasleftishersocialstanding,andthat’smore important to her thananything.”“So he’s a rich social

climber and she’s a destituteblue blood who married himforhismoney?”“Yougotit.Icouldn’thave

putitanybettermyself.”“You’re going to their

party,aren’tyou?”Hannahthoughtofhernew

dress and smiled. “Of courseI am. I do all right, but I’mstill on a jug-wine and jelly-glass budget. This ismy onechance to sip Dom Pérignonoutoffinecrystal.”“Doyouhaveadate?”“You must be kidding!”

Hannah was amused. “Thinkabout it, Norman. You saw

Mother in action onTuesdaynight.WouldshetrytosetmeupwitheveryguyintownifIalready had a date for thebiggestpartyoftheyear?”Norman shrugged, but he

was grinning. “I guess not.Would you like to go to theparty with me, Hannah? It’llget you off the hook withyourmother.”Hannah wished she hadn’t

been so flippant. Her bigmouth had gotten her into

trouble again. Now Normanknew she didn’t have a dateand he was asking her forone. And she really didn’tknowwhattosay.Norman reached out and

patted her hand. “Come on.It’ll be mutually beneficial.I’lldrivesoyoucandrinkallthe Dom you want, and youcan introduce me to all thepeople you think I shouldknow.”Hannahthoughtfast.There

didn’t seem to be anygraceful way out, and goingto the Woodleys’ party withNorman might not be soterrible. He was funny, heseemed to like her, and itmightmake hermother backoffalittle.“Okay,it’sadeal.”

Hannahdrewadeepbreath

of relief when Normanescorted her back to the

waitingroomandAndreawasthere. Her sister was seatedon the new couch, idlyflippingthepagesofNationalGeographic.“Hi.” Andrea gave them a

guileless smile. “Did youhaveanicelunch?”“Very nice.” Norman

smiled and then he turned toHannah. “The Woodleys’party starts at eight. Shall Ipickyouupatseven-thirty?”“Seven-thirty is fine.”

Hannahsaw the startled lookthat Andrea gave her out ofthecornerofhereye,andsheknew she’d have to do someexplaining.“Doyouneedmyaddress?”“I’ve got it. Itwas nice to

meet you, Andrea. Perhapswe’llseeyouattheparty?”Andrea put on a smile for

Norman’sbenefit. “Youwill.BillandIwouldn’tmissitfortheworld.Goodbye,Norman.Itwasnicetomeetyou,too.”

They walked out toHannah’s truck in totalsilence, and Andrea got intothe passenger seat. But assoon as Hannah had slid inbehind the wheel and closedthedoor,Andrea reachedoutto grab her arm. “You werejust kidding around, weren’tyou? I mean, you’re notactually going to the partywithhim!”“Yes, I am,” Hannah

confirmedit.

“Butyoucan’t!”Hannah started the engine,

glanced behind her to makesure that no cars werecoming, and pulled out intothestreet.“Whynot?”“Because he could be

Ron’skiller!”“He’snot.”Hannahshifted

into second gear. “Normanhas an alibi. Hewas treatinganother patient when Ronwaskilled.”That seemed to take the

wind out of Andrea’s sailsand she frowned. “Okay.Maybe he’s not Ron’s killer,butthere’snowayyoushouldgooutwithhim!”“Relax, Andrea. It’s not

like it’s a real date oranything. He’s just pickingmeupandwe’regoingtotheparty together. Norman’sverynice.”“No, he isn’t. It’s not like

you to be wrong aboutpeople, but this time you

really blew it. While youwere having lunch andacceptingdateswith this . . .thispersonyouthinkisnice,Ihit pay dirt in the storageroom. I’ve got the goods onNormanRhodes.”“What goods?” Hannah

tookhereyesofftheroadfora moment to glance at hersister. Andrea looked veryproudofherself.“I’ll show you the minute

we get back to The Cookie

Jar.”Hannah’seyebrowsshotup

and she had all she could dotonavigate the turnonThirdandMain. “You’ll showme?You didn’t steal anythingfrom Norman’s office, didyou,Andrea?”“Itwasn’t exactly stealing.

IknowIpromisednottotakeanything,butthiswasjusttoogood to leave behind.”Andrea sat back and gave asmugsmile.“I’lltellyouthis

much,Hannah.Motherdidn’tdo you any favors when sheintroduced you to Norman.And he certainly isn’t themanshethoughthewas!”Hannah didn’t ask any

furtherquestions.Itwasclearher sister wouldn’t tell heranymoreuntil they’darrivedatTheCookieJar.Sheturnedinto the alley, averted hereyes as she drove past thespotwhereRonhadbreathedhis final breath, and pulled

intoherparkingspot.When they came in the

back door, Andrea wasgrinning like a Cheshire cat,andHannahwasbeginningtofeel very uneasy. She hopedthat Andrea had foundsomething trivial, like apatient’s complaint that he’dbeen overcharged, or a stackofunpaidbills.“TellLisayou’rebackand

weneedtobealone,”Andreaadvised as she hung up her

coat. “Hurry up. This isimportant.”Hannah wasn’t about to

argue. She dashed into theshop, told Lisa to pleasehandle the counter for acouple more minutes, andfilled two mugs with coffee.Andrea didn’t need thecaffeinesinceshewasjazzedenoughasitwas,butHannahfigured she might need aboostbeforeallthiswasover.She raced through the

swinging door to the backroom, set the coffee mugsdownontheworkisland,andslid onto a stool close to hersister’s. “All right, Andrea.This has gone on longenough.Outwithit.”Andrea was obviously

enjoying this moment. Sheopened her purse with aflourish, pulled out a largemanila envelope, and pusheditovertoHannah.“What’sthis?”

“Open it,” Andreainstructed. “And then tellmeagainhowniceNormanis.”

PECANCHEWS

Preheatovento350°F.,rackinthe

middleposition.

1 cupbutter(2sticks,½pound)

3 cupsbrownsugar

***4 eggs,beaten(with afork isfine)

1teaspoonsalt

1teaspoonbakingsoda

3

teaspoonsvanilla

2 cupsfinelychoppedpecans

4 cupsflour

Melt butterandaddbrownsugar. Mix

well and letcool. Addbeaten eggsand mix. Addsalt, bakingsoda, vanilla,and nuts. Mixwell. Addflour and mixuntil flour isthoroughlydistributed.

Form dough

into balls withyour fingers.(Make themthe size of awalnut withshell.) Placethem on agreasedcookiesheet, 12 to astandard sheet.Press themdown with aspatula.(Sprayit with Pam

first,orgreaseit.)

Bakeat350degrees

F.for10to12minutes.Letcookiessetuponsheetforoneminute,

thenremovethemto awireracktofinishcooling.

***There’snoneed

tokeepbrownsugarinstock.Itcanbeeasilymadewithwhitesugar

andmolasses,

cupmolassesforevery3cupsofwhitesugar.(That’show

theymanufactureit,really.Andit’llsaveyoufromhavingtodealwithall

thoselumps.)Justaddthemolassestothewhitesugarandstiruntilit is

thoroughlyandevenlymixedin.

(There’s noproblem ifyour recipecalls for darkbrown sugar,or light brown

sugar—justmix inmolasses untilit’s the rightcolor.)

(NormanRhodesadoresthese,andso

doesBill.)

Yield:8to10dozen,dependingoncookiesize.

ChapterEleven

Hannahcouldn’tsayaword.Her tongue seemed glued tothe roof of her mouth. Shestared down at the stack ofPolaroids and blinked hard.No, she wasn’t imaginingthings. The imageswere still

there. There were no faces,just pictures of women’storsos, and every one wasnudetothewaist.“Hannah?”Andreareached

outtograbherarm.“Areyouallright?”Hannahtookadeepbreath

andnodded.“Whoarethey?”“Dental patients. You can

tell where they were takenfrom the background.”Andrea jabbed her finger atthetopprint.“Seethatpicture

on thewall? It’s in the roomthatNormanusesforcleaningteeth.Ichecked.”“This woman posed for

Normaninhisdentalchair?”“Make that these women.”

Andrea fanned out thepicturessothatHannahcouldsee. “And I don’t think theyexactly posed. See the twocanisters next to the chair?One is oxygen and the otherisnitrousoxide.”“Laughinggas?”

“I studied it in chemistryclass. Ifyoumix it right, it’san anesthetic. A lot ofdentistsuse it.But ifyoucutdown on the oxygen, it canmakeyouloseconsciousness.A couple of whiffs of theincreased mixture and thesewomen would have passedoutcold.”“Heknockedthemoutand

tooknudephotosofthem?”“That’s what it looks like

to me. When they came to,

they wouldn’t remember athing.”Hannahshookherhead.“I

can’t believe that Normanwoulddosomethinglikethis.Heseemsso...normal.”“That’s what they always

say about perverts. You’veheardthoseinterviewsonthenews. All the neighbors saythattheycan’tbelieveit,thatheseemedlikesuchanormalguy.”Hannah blinked and stared

down at the photographsagain. She still couldn’tbelieve that Norman couldhavetakenthesepictures.Shepickedup the stackof

Polaroids and rifled throughthemagain.“Iwonderif...”“What is it?” Andrea

turned to stare at her sisterwhen Hannah stoppedspeakingabruptly.“It’s this one.” Hannah

pointed to the picture.“There’sagoldchainaround

herneckandthatpendant...IknowI’veseenitbefore.”Andrea grabbed the photo

for a second look. “You’reright. I’ve seen it, too. It’s aCelticcross,isn’tit?”“That’s right!” Hannah’s

eyes widened as sherecognized the subject of thephotograph. “Norman didn’ttakethesepictures,Andrea.”“Hedidn’t?”“He couldn’t have taken

them. That’s Miss McNally,

our seventh-grade mathteacher. And she left LakeEden to get married threeyearsago.”Andrea stared down at the

photo in shock. “MissMcNallyis theonlyonewhoever wore a cross like that.Norman’s father must havetakenthesepictures.Whatarewegoingtodo?”Hannah’s brain shifted

gears.“First,we’renotgoingto tell anybody about them.

Norman’s father is dead. It’stoolatetodoanythingtohimnow. Making this publicwouldjustmortifyhismotherandembarrassthewomen.““That makes sense,”

Andrea agreed quickly. “Doyou suppose Norman knowswhathisfatherdid?”“I don’t know. Where did

youfindthesepictures?”“They were in the

storeroom. I found them in alittleboxunderastackofold

X-rays. It was filthy backthere, Hannah. There musthavebeenan inchofdustonthoseX-raysand...”Andreastopped, realizingwhat she’djust said. “Norman doesn’tknow about them, Hannah.Therewasjusttoomuchdust.I’malmostpositivethatstackof X-rays hadn’t beentouchedinatleastayear.”Hannah breathed a sigh of

relief. “Good. Do you thinkyougotallofthephotos?”

“I think so. I dumped thebox in that envelope and Ispent at least five minuteslooking for more.” Andreareached out to gather up thephotos and turned themfacedown. “What are wegoing to do with them,Hannah?”“We’re going to destroy

them. I’ll throw them in myfireplacetonight.”“You can’t do that,”

Andreaobjected.“You’vegot

a gas log. You’re notsupposed toburnanything inyour fireplace. Maybe weshouldshredthem.I’ddoitatwork, but Al would ask mewhatIwasshredding.”“Let’s try industrial-

strength stain remover,”Hannahsuggestedassheslidoff her stool. “I used it toclean the rust stains off mybathroom sink and I’ve gotsome left in the bottle. It’ssupposedtotakeanythingoff

anything.”Andrea followed Hannah

to the sink and watched asshe poured several inches ofstainremoverintothebottomof her stainless-steel sink.They dropped in one of thephotos andHannahmoved itaroundwiththehandleofoneofher longmixingspoons.Ittook a minute or so, buteventuallythephotobleachedouttowhite.“It works!” Andrea

sounded surprised. “Howdidyouknowtodothat?”“Isawsomething like it in

a movie. Go ahead, Andrea.YouputinthephotosandI’llstirthemaround.”In less than five minutes

the nude photos haddisappeared,leavingperfectlywhite paper behind. Hannahpulled the plug, ran someclear water over the paper,and dumped the whole messintothegarbage.

“IguessI’dbettergetbacktotheoffice.”Andreaglancedup at the clock. “I have topick up the keys and someflyersbeforemyshowing.”Hannah gave her a little

hug. “Thanks for all yourhelp,Andrea.You’rereallyagood snooper and I’m gladyou found those picturesbeforeNormanorhismotherstumbledacrossthem.”“So am I.” Andrea gave

herasunnysmileandheaded

for the swinging door. Shestopped,herhandextendedtopushitopen,andturnedback.“Hannah?”“Yes?”“I think you should go to

the Woodleys’ party withNorman. I was wrong. He’sboring,buthereallyisaniceguy.”Hannah managed to keep

thepolitesmileonherfaceas

theguestspeakerextolledthevirtues of Regency England,wheremenwere“gentlemen”andladieswere“ladiesinthetrue sense of theword.” Theplump, gray-haired lady inher frilly yellow dress, aretired English teacher fromGrey Eagle who had writtenthree Regency romances,stated that she was appalledand saddened by the“regrettable lapse of moralfiber” in the youth of today.

She ended her speech bysuggesting that parents beguided by the strict rules ofpolitesocietythathadexisted“on Albion’s shores” at thebeginning of the nineteenthcenturyandmakeanefforttoinstill “Regency values” intheiroffspring.There was a halfhearted

smattering of applause whentheguestspeakervacated thepodiumand then themeetingbegan. As she readied the

refreshment table, Hannahwondered what Lake Eden’steenagers would do if theirmothers tried to whisk thembacktoanerawithnocarsorvideo games, not to mentionthe absence of birth control.Matricide would soar, andBillwould certainly have hishandsfull.Hannah started the coffee

and arranged platters heapedhigh with Regency GingerCrisps. She’d researched the

period, but there were veryfew published recipes andnone of them had soundedlike cookies. She’d evenpaged through her mother’scollection of Regencyromances for anymention ofdesserts, but all she’d foundwere vague references to“duffs,”“fruitcompotes,”and“seed cakes.” Deciding thatcompromise was in order,Hannahhadcompiledalistofingredientsthathadexistedin

Regency times and she’ddiscovered that anenterprising person couldhave baked ginger cookies.Whether they had actuallydone itwasanotherquestion,but it would have beenpossible.It didn’t take long for the

meeting to conclude andHannah was relieved to seethat the guest speaker hadslipped out the door. Thatwas good. The woman

seemed to know a lot aboutthe Regency period, andHannahhadn’t relishedbeingexposed as a fraud. Most ofthe club members weren’tthat serious aboutauthenticity. They liked toread Regency romances andtalk about them, but clubmeetings were primarily anexcusetogetoutofthehouseand share gossip andrefreshments with theirfriends.

The moment the gaveldescended, there was ascrapingbackofchairsandaheadlong rush toward therefreshment table. Hannahwas ready. She had tea andcoffee, both “leaded” and“unleaded,” and her bestsilver platters heaped highwith cookies. As she pouredsteaming beverages intobone-china cups—blueflowersforthedecafandpinkflowers for regular—Hannah

thought about the phone callshe’d received from Billbefore she’d left the shop.The homeless man, whosename was “Blaze,” was nolonger a suspect. ReverendWarren Strandberg hadpicked him up just afterClairehadseenhimandtakenhimtotheBibleChurchsoupkitchen for breakfast. At thetime of Ron’s death, Blazehad been scarfing downpancakes with scrambled

eggsinfrontof thereverend,several church volunteers,and some of his homelesspeers.“These are simply

marvelous, Hannah.” Mrs.DianaGreer-son,wife of thelocal bank president andsocialclimberparexcellence,heldacupofherbalteainonehandandnibbledonacookiein the other, her pinkieextended.“I’msogladyoulikethem,

Diana.” Hannah motionedtoward the platter. “Do haveanother.”“Oh,Icouldn’t.Ieatlikea

bird,youknow.”The thought of a vulture

tearing greedily at a carcassflashedbeforeHannah’seyes.Thelasttimeshe’dcateredanevent that Diana hadattended, she’d caught herdroppingatleastahalf-dozenDateDelightsinherpurse.While Hannah poured and

offered coffee or tea to thewomen in Lake Eden, shekept a sharp eye out for hermother. Before she’d evenreached kindergarten age,she’ddiscoveredthatDeloreshad a barometer face. If hereyes snapped, a storm ofcriticismwasimminent.Ifherlipsturnedup,theirencounterwould be sunny withcompliments. If there was acrease between her perfectlyplucked eyebrows, a rain of

judgmental questions wasabout to fall. Even a blandexpression meant something.It warned of sudden change,and Hannah knew that shehad to be prepared to eithershiverunderhermother’sicycensureorbaskinthewarmthofherapproval.Hannah filled a cup with

regularcoffeeforSallyPercy,the wife of Andrea’s boss,andglancedat theendof theline again. What she saw

made her relax for the firsttime that day. Her motherwas standing in line withCarrie Rhodes, and bothwomen smiled widely whenthey caught her eye. Hannahknew immediately thatNorman had announced theirplans togo to theWoodleys’party together. Itwas theoldcase of “I know, you know,andIknowyouknow.”As the line snaked slowly

past her, and Hannah

concentrated on exchangingpleasantries with everyoneshe served, she noticed thatDeloresandCarrieseemedtobe having a slight differenceof opinion. They weren’targuing. It was much toofriendly for that.ButHannahheardfaintstrainsof“ButI’dliketo,really.ThisissogoodforNorman”fromCarrie,and“No, she’d never accept itfrom you” from Delores.Then Carrie’s voice wafted

down to Hannah, “I’ll orderthe corsage. What type offlowers does she like?” AndDelores answered, “Sheadores sunflowers, but thosewouldn’tdoatall.Howaboutorchids?”By the time Delores and

Carrie had arrived atHannah’s station by thecoffee urns, they were bothwearingidentical“catthatgotinto the creampot” smiles, avery useful phrase that

Hannah had picked up whilepaging through her mother’sRegency romances. Carrietook a cup of herbal tea,Deloresselectedblackcoffee,and then Delores leanedclose. “We just came fromBeauMonde and Claire toldusyouboughtanewdressfortheWoodleys’party.”“That’s right, Mother.”

Hannahwasn’t surprised thather mother knew about herrecentpurchase.Itwasalmost

impossible to keep secrets inatownthesizeofLakeEden.“I’d like tobuy it foryou,

dear. Let’s call it an earlybirthdaypresent.”Hannahwassurprised.Her

mother usually wasn’t thisgenerous. “That’s very niceof you, Mother, but mybirthday’s in July and that’sovereightmonthsaway.”“All right then, Christmas.

I’m just so pleased that youboughtsomethinginthe‘first

stareof fashion,’dear.Clairesaid it looked divine on youand everyone knows thatClaire has exquisite taste.You must let me reimburseyou.Iinsist.”Hannahstifledagrin,these

club meetings always madeher mother spout Regencyphrases,butshewasn’taboutto look a gift horse in themouth. Delores could affordto be generous. Hannah’sgrandfather had invested

heavily in the fledglingMinnesota Mining andManufacturingCompany,andover the years 3M stock hadsplitmoretimesthanHannahcould count. “Did Claire tellyou what I paid for thedress?”“Iasked,butshesaidthatit

was just between the two ofyou.Howmuchwasit,dear?I’llwriteyouacheck.”Hannah sighed as she

listened to the hoofbeats of

the gift horse gallop off intothe sunset. She couldn’t tellhermotherwhatthedresshadcost. She’d promised Clairenot to mention the price. “Ican’t say, Mother. Clairegave it to me at cost and Ipromised that I wouldn’t tellanyonewhatIpaid.”“Notevenmoi?”“Not even you, Mother.”

Hannahhadtroublekeepingastraight face. Her mothersounded just likeMissPiggy

when she referred to herselfasmoi.Carrie leaned close to

whisper something inDelores’sear,andhermotherbegantosmileagain.“That’sawonderfulidea.You’llneeda new purse and a pair ofshoes, Hannah. Why don’tyouletmepickupthetabforthose?”“I have a black clutch,

Mother. You gave it to metwoyearsago.Andmyblack

heels are perfectly—”Hannahstoppedandbegantofrownassherememberedthather only pair of black dressshoes needed to be resoled.“You hit it on the nose,Mother. I could use a newpairofshoes.”“Then I’ll buy them for

you. Choose Italian, dear.They’re the only ones thatlast.Andmakesureyouwalkaroundthestoreatleasttwiceto make sure they don’t

pinch. I could go out to themall with you and help youshop.”Hannah winced as she

rememberedthelastshoppingtrip she’d taken with hermother. Delores had wantedhertobuyadresscoatinsteadof her all-purpose parka.“That’s all right, Mother. Iknowhowbusyyouare.Andthat remindsme, how’s yourtooth?”“My tooth?” Delores

appeared startled, andHannah bit back a grin. Didher mother think that thenewsonthegossipgrapevinetraveled in only onedirection? “It’s fine now,dear. Norman’s a marvelousdentist. Did I tell you that Isaw Ron LaSalle drivingaway?”“No,butNormandid.You

didn’ttalktoRon,didyou?”“HewaspullingoutwhenI

drove up and all I saw was

thebackofhistruck.ForallIknow, it wasn’t even Ron.”Her mother looked veryflustered.“DoyouthinkthatIshouldreportittoBill?”“Definitely.Bill’stryingto

account for Ron’s actions onthemorningthathedied,andwhatyousawmighthelp.”Carrie shivered slightly.

“It’s frightening to think thatsomeone we all knew couldbe shot down in broaddaylightonourstreets.”

“I know.” Delores sighed.“AsfarasI’mconcerned,it’sHerb Beeseman’s fault. Thatboy spends all his timewritingticketsandhe’sneverwhere he’s really needed. Ifhe’dstuffedthatcitationbookin his pocket where itbelongs, hemight have beenthere in time to save Ron’slife!”Hannah knew she should

keephermouth shut, but shecouldn’t do it. “Herb was

hired toenforceLakeEden’straffic regulations, not topatrol the streets hunting forwould-bekillers.”“She’s right, Delores,”

Carrie said and then sheturned to Hannah. “It musthave been terrible for you,dear. Imagine something likethat happening right in backofyourshop!”Delores didn’t look very

sympathetic. “Hannah canhandle things like that. She’s

always been strong. She getsit from me. Isn’t that right,Hannah?”Hannah managed to keep

her lips pressed firmlytogether. This from thewoman who’d fainted whenshe’d found a dead squirrelonherbackdoorstep!“We’d better move along,

Delores.” Carrie nudged her.“You know how upset theseolder women get whensomeoneholdsuptheline.”

Hannahcameveryclosetolosing it.With the exceptionofMrs.PriscillaKnudson,theLutheran minister’sgrandmother, Carrie was theoldestladyinthegroup.After Hannah had served

theremainingwomeninline,shepickeduphercookietrayand stepped out to mingle.She had quite a few takers.Her Regency Ginger Crispswere going over big. She’djust finished serving Bertie

Straub,theowner-operatorofthe Cut ’n Curl, when sheoverheard part of aconversation that MaryannWatson, Coach Watson’ssister,washavingwithoneofthe secretaries at DelRay,LucilleRahn.“You have no idea how

generousmybrother iswhenit comes to Danielle,”Maryann confided. “He paidan absolute fortune for herbirthdaypresent.”

Lucille took a dainty biteof her cookie. “Really?Howcould he afford to buysomething that expensive onateacher’ssalary?”“He’sbeensavingallyear.

It’s her thirtieth, you know,and he wanted to get hersomething special. He askedmetomeethimattheMallofAmericaonTuesdaynight tohelp him shop. I swear wewent to every single jewelrystoreintheentiremallbefore

he found something that hewanted.”Hannah slipped into her

invisiblecaterermode,settingher tray down at the far endof their table and busyingherself by rearranging thestacked cookies on her tray.Neitherwomanseemedawareofher,butHannahcouldheareverywordtheyspoke.“Whatdidhebuy?”Lucille

looked very curious. “Youcantellme,Maryann.”

Maryann leaned forward,abouttoconfidethedelicioussecret. She seemed perfectlyoblivioustoHannah.Waiters,maids, and caterers werealways treated to all thegossip, whether they wantedtohearitornot.“Hegotheraperfectly gorgeous ruby ring,but you can’t tell a soul. It’ssupposedtobeasurprise.”Lucille raised her

eyebrows. “A ruby? Thatdoessoundexpensive.”

“It was,” Maryannconfirmed with a nod of herhead. “It cost him over athousand dollars. And Boydeven paid extra to have itengravedon the insideof theband.”“Is that why you missed

theDorcasCirclemeetingonTuesdaynight?”“Yes, we had to stay over

becausetheringwasn’treadyuntil the nextmorning.Boydaskedmetotakeithomewith

me for safekeeping, and youknowwhatthatmeans.”Lucille looked thoroughly

puzzled. “What does itmean?”“Danielle must snoop

throughhisthings.”“That doesn’t really

surprise me. Jill Havershamwas Danielle’s third-gradeteacher, and she said that allthePerkinsgirlswerenosy.”“I’ll neverunderstandwhy

Boydmarried her.”Maryann

sighed deeply. “He couldhave had anyone, and itwasn’t like he had to, youknow.But I guess there’s noaccountingfortaste.”“That’swhattheysay.Did

you stay over with yourmother?”“Yes, and shewas so glad

to see us. Boyd went out toget doughnuts for breakfastthenextmorningandhecamebackwithahugebox.That’sso she’d have leftovers.

We’re not sure she’s eatingright, now that she’s allalone.”Hannah stifled a grin. She

didn’t think that doughnutsfor breakfast fell into therealm of “eating right,” butshewasn’t one to talk.A lotof her customers ate cookiesforbreakfast.“She’s lonely, now that

Dad’s gone,” Maryanncontinued, “and she justrattlesaroundinthathouseof

hers. The neighborhood’sturning industrial, and that’snotgood,either.”“Where is it?” Lucille

asked.“Right off the Anoka exit

on the ninety-four. It used tobeanicequietsuburbbeforethey put in the freeway, butit’s going downhill in ahandbasket.BoydandI thinksheshouldsellandmoveintoone of those nice apartmentbuildingsforseniors.”

Lucille raised hereyebrows. “Wouldn’t sherather move in with you orBoyd?”“My place isn’t big

enough. You’ve seen myapartment.Ibarelyhaveroomto turn around. Boyd’s gotplenty of room, but I don’tthinkthatDaniellewantsher.Not that he’s said anythingabout it. He wouldn’t, youknow.Boyd’sasloyaltothatwomanasthedayislong.He

treats her like a princess,dressing her up in expensiveclothes and buying hereverythingshecouldpossiblywant.Heevenboughtherthathouse,youknow, and letmetellyou,that’sgottobearealdrain.”“Financially?”“Their mortgage payments

mustbesky-high,andthere’salways something that needstobefixed.Boydtriestodoitallhimself,butheavenknows

he’s not a plumber or anelectrician. I swear Danielledoesn’t appreciate how hardhe works, but what else canyou expect, coming from afamilylikehers?”“She doesn’t work, does

she?”Lucilleasked.“Of course not. She

wouldn’t lift a finger to helpthem out. Boyd says hedoesn’twanthertowork,butI think he’s just covering upforthefactthatshe’stoolazy

toholddownajob.”Hannah had heard quite

enough criticism aboutDanielle. She picked up hertray, stuck on her “May Iserve you” smile andwalkedover to tap Maryann on theshoulder. “More cookies,ladies?”“Hello,Hannah.”Maryann

seemed surprised to see her.“These are wonderfulcookies, dear. And to thinkthat they’re authentic! I was

just commenting on howdelicioustheywere,wasn’tI,Lucille?”Lucille smiled. “We’re so

lucky to have you back intown, Hannah. I don’t knowhow the Lake EdenRegencyRomanceClubevermanagedtoserverefreshmentswithoutyou.”“Thank you. I’m so glad

youlikethecookies.”Hannahwaited until both MaryannandLucillehadtakenanother

cookie and then she movedontoanothertable.TheMallof America didn’t open untileleven and Coach Watsonhadbeenwithhis sisteruntilthen. One more suspect hadbeen eliminated and if herluck ran true to form, thebounceratTwinPineswouldhaveanalibi,too.Thenshe’dbebacktosquareone.Hannah sighed as she

finished serving the cookiesand went back to fetch the

carafes of coffee and tea.Solving crimes certainlywasn’taseasyastheymadeitseeminthemovies.

ChapterTwelve

Hannah pulled into theparking lot at theTri-CountyMall and turned toLisawithafrown.“Ihatetoshop!”“It won’t be so bad,

Hannah. All you need is apair of shoes.And it’s really

niceofyourmothertopayforthem.”“Oh, yeah?” Hannah

turned to her with liftedeyebrows. “Mother’s giftsalways have strings attached.The shoes have to be Italianandtheycan’thavemorethanathree-inchheel.”Lisa shrugged. “Italian is

good and you never wearhighheelsanyway.”“Wait, there’s more. I’m

notsupposedtobuyanything

except fine leather, no man-madematerialsallowed,andIhave to ask the salesman toguaranteethatthecolorwon’trun if it gets wet. She mademe promise to put them onand walk around the storetwicetomakesuretheydon’tpinchmyfeet.”“That doesn’t sound so

hard.Comeon,Hannah.Themall closes at seven and it’salreadysix-thirty.”Hannahsighedandgotout

of her truck. A light snowwas falling and thetemperature had dropped tendegrees since the sun hadgonedown.Shedidn’tliketogo to themall at the best oftimesand thiswas theworst.The parking lot was packedwithcars,shewaspressedfortime, and she needed to buythe shoes tonight. As far asHannah was concerned, thishasty shopping trip to buy alast-minuteitemwasaperfect

recipefordisaster.Lisaledthewayacrossthe

slushy lot and into the reardoor of Sears. They cutthrough the hardware, paint,and household appliancesections and sped down thepath of green indoor-outdoorcarpeting to the indoorentranceofthemallitself.As they walked into the

huge dome-shaped area,Hannah’s eyes wereimmediatelydrawntoagiant

red plastic sleigh and eightplastic reindeer frozen inmidprance.Sheblinkedtwiceand then she turned to Lisa.“It’s not evenHalloween yetand they’re all decorated forChristmas!”“They put up the

decorations right after LaborDay. I guess a lot of peoplelike to do their Christmasshopping early and they buymoreifthemall’sdecorated.”“Has your father seen it

yet?”“I bring Dad out every

Sunday.There’s an animatedSanta’s Workshop in thelobby of Dayton’s and he’sjustfascinatedbyit.Hemusthave seen it a half-dozentimes, but he always pointsout what all the elves aredoingforme.”“Thatmustbetheupsideof

Alzheimer’s.Everytimeyourfather sees it, he thinks he’sseeing it for the first time.”

Hannah’s words popped outbefore she could think aboutthem, and she winced whenshe realized that she’dsounded flippant. “I’m sorry,Lisa. I didn’t mean to jokeaboutsuchanawfuldisease.”“That’sokay,Hannah.You

have to jokeabout it. Ido it,too. And it could be a lotworse.Dad’snot in anypainand he’s forgotten about allhis problems. Most of thetime he really enjoys

himself.”“Where should we start

first?”Hannahdecideditwastimetochangethesubject.“Let’s go to Bianco’s.

They’re new. Rhonda Scharfwas in the other day and IheardhertellingGailHansonthat they had a betterselectionthananyoftheothershoestores.”Hannah followed Lisa

through the crowd ofshoppers without seeing a

familiar face. That wasn’tsurprising. The Tri-CountyMall was twenty miles fromEden Lake and it served allthe small towns within aforty-mile radius. She sawseveral teenageboyswearingLittleFallsFlyerteamjacketsandagroupofgigglinggirls,standingnearthevideostore,were sporting Long PrairieHighSchoolsweatshirts.Lisaduckedintoabrightly

litstoredisplayingtheItalian

flag as a background in itswindow.Rowsofshoeslinedthe shelves on the wall, andeveryfewfeetaroundplasticdisplayshelfjuttedoutwithapairof shoes arrangedat eyelevel. Hannah followed andshe immediately spotted apair of black shoes near theback of the store. They hadlowheels,theywereprobablymade of leather, and theylookedcomfortable.“I think I’ll take these,

Lisa.”Hannahwalkedovertopoint to the pair of shoes.“Theylookjustright.”“They’re too plain,

Hannah.Youneedsomethingfancier to go with yourgorgeousdress.”“How much fancier?”

Hannah wasn’t willing tocave in quite so easily. Theblack shoes would go withalmost anything, and plainwasfinewithher.“Try this pair.” Lisa

snatched a pair from thedisplay and handed them toHannah. “They’ll be perfect.Trustme.”“Trust me” was the same

phrase her mother had usedwhen she’d talked Hannahinto buying a totallyridiculous velvet skirt oneChristmas, and Hannah wasleery as she examined theshoes. They met all therequirements, but the thinleather strap that buckled

around theanklewoulddrawattentiontoherlegs.“Just try them, Hannah. If

youdon’t like them,youcanchoosesomethingelse.”“Fine.” Going shopping

with Lisa was a lot likeshoppingwithhermother. “Iwear a nine and a halfnarrow.”“I’llgetaclerk.”Lisahurriedoffandwithin

a few moments she cameback with a man with black

hair and amustache.Hewaswearing white pants and astriped shirt and he lookedexactly like Hannah’sconception of a Venetiangondolier.“This is Tony,” Lisa

introduced him. “He’ll helpyou.”In record time Hannah’s

feetweremeasured,andTonyhad slipped the shoes on herfeet. Hannah stood upgingerly, took a few steps,

andstartedtosmile.Lisawasright. The shoes would beperfect with her blackcocktail dress. “I’ll takethem.”“Notsofast,”Lisawarned.

“Youhavetowalkaroundthestorefirst.Youpromised.”Hannahsighedandwalked

up and down the aisles. Shewasgladshedid,becauseshenoticed a sign near theregister that advertised asecond pair of shoes for five

dollars. She rushed back toTonyandgesturedtowardthesign. “A second pair is onlyfivedollars?”“That’s right. It’s still our

grand opening. You want tolookatasecondpair?”Hannah shook her head

andpointedatLisa.“No,shedoes and I’m paying. She’dlike to try . . .” Hannahglanced around. She’dnoticed that Lisa had beenstaring at a pair of shoes

when they’d first walked in,and there had been a wistfulexpression on her face. Shelocated the shoes, a pair ofgold sandals with five-inchheels, and hurried over toretrieve them and carry themback to Tony. “Shewants totrythispair.”“You’ll be wasting your

money,” Lisa objected.“They’re beautiful, but Iwouldn’t have anywhere towearthem.”

“So what? I want you tohave them. Every womanneeds a totally fantastic pairofshoesonceinawhile,eveniftheyjustsitinhercloset.”“But,Hannah...”“Don’tforgetthatI’myour

boss,” Hannah interruptedher.“AndI’morderingyoutogetthoseshoes.”Lisa began to laugh. “You

win. Do you have them in asix,Tony?”

Twin Pines was only ten

miles from the Tri-CountyMall and the snow was stillfallingasHannahpulled intoa recently vacated spot nearthe entrance. It wasn’tsnowing hard, but shewondered what it would belike to get snowbound at acasino.Perhapsitwasagoodthing she hadn’t brought anyofhercreditcardswithher.“It’shuge,Hannah.And it

looks nice.” Lisa eyed theflashing neon signs as theywalked up to the entrance,and there was a childlikewonderonherface.“I’mgladyou asked me to come withyou. I’veneverbeen insideacasinobefore.”Abouncerwasstationedat

a spot just inside the frontdoor and Hannah held herbreath. She hoped that Lisawas old enough to gamble.Then she noticed a sign that

read: “YOU MUST BE 18OROLDERTOGAMBLE.”Shebreatheda sighof relief.Sheturnedtolookbackatthebouncer again. His face wasfree of scratches and bruisesandhecertainlydidn’thaveablackeye.Therewasnowaythathe’dbeentherecipientofRon’s punches, and Hannahdecided to wait until they’deaten before she asked anyquestions about the bouncerwho’dbeenondutyTuesday

night.“What a nice restaurant!”

Lisa smiled happily as awaitress led them to awooden booth in the rustic-looking dining room. “Justlook at those Indian blanketson the wall. They’regorgeous.”“Yes, they are.” Hannah

glancedatthevividlycoloredblankets. Though they addedcoziness to the cavernouswood-paneled room, their

woven designs didn’t lookanything like the Siouxblankets she’d seen on hertrip to the museum. Perhapsauthenticity didn’t reallymattertoagambler.“Do you think we should

take Herb’s suggestion andtry the ribs?”Lisa looked upfromhermenu.Itwasprintedon a type of plastic thatresembled birch bark andtherewasastickdrawingofateepeeonthefront.

“That sounds good to me.If Herb recommended them,theymustbegood.Healwayshad a knack for ferreting outthebestitemonamenuwhenwe were classmates in highschool.”When the ribs came, they

were tender and juicy,slathered with a sauce thatremindedHannahofaromaticwoodsmokeandsweetvine-ripened tomatoes. As theyate,occasionallywiping their

handson thewetnapkins thewaitress had provided,Hannah thought about thebest way to identify thebouncer who’d fought withRon. If she asked themanagement, they’d beparanoid about possiblelawsuits. She had to think ofsome nonthreatening excuseto convince them that sheneededthebouncer’sname.By the time they’d wiped

theirhandsthefinaltimeand

sharedanexcellent cranberrycobbler, Hannah knewexactly how to proceed. Shepaidtheirtab,gotLisasettledin front of a quarter slotmachine with the changefromTheCookieJar,andsetouttofindthemanager.After being referred to

several employees, Hannahfinallyfoundasecurityguardwho agreed to escort her tothe manager’s office. Theguard was tall, broad-

shouldered, and perfectlyimpassive as he blocked alightedsecuritypanelwithhisbody and punched numberson a keypad that opened thedoortoaninsidecorridor.Hannah gave him a

friendlysmileashemotionedher through the door, but hedidn’t smile back. It wasobviousthatasterndemeanortopped the list ofrequirements for casinosecurityguards.

Once she’d arrived at theproper door, the guardknocked twice and thenopened it. “AMiss Swensento see you. She says it’spersonal.”A voice from the interior

toldHannah to enter and shestepped into the office. Theroom was large andbeautifully decorated. Threewalls were ivory and thefourth was painted anattractive shade of Chinese

red. It contained an ivorysilk-covered sofa and twomatchingchairsthatflankedablack lacquer coffee tablewith gold inlay dragons. Thedecor was an odd choice foranIndiancasino,andHannahwassurprised.Therewasn’tasingle Native Americanblanketorartifactinsight.An older man with

carefullystyledgrayhairrosefromhischairbehindablacklacquer desk. “Miss

Swensen?I’mPaulLittletree,the casino manager. Won’tyousitdown?”“Thank you,” Hannah

replied and took the chair infront of his desk, a lovelyblack lacquer armchairupholstered in Chinese redsilk.“You can leave us,

Dennis.” Paul Littletreewaved a dismissal to thesecurityguard.Hannah waited until the

door had closed behind thesecurity guard and then shelaunched into the speechshe’dprepared.“Thisisreallyembarrassing, Mr. Littletree.I’m afraid my brother got alittleoutofhandthelasttimehewashere.Myparentssentmeouttoapologizeandoffertopayforanydamagethathedid.”“Whenwasthis?”“On Tuesday night. When

he got home, he told my

mother that he’d been in afight with one of yourbouncers.” Hannah loweredher eyes and attempted tolook embarrassed about hermythical brother’s actions.“We think it’s that newgirlfriend of his. She’sinvolved in some kind ofantigambling movement andshe talked him into drivingout here to pass outbrochures. My brother justhas some scratches and

bruises,butmyparentsaskedmetochecktomakesurethatyourbouncer’sallright.”“That would be Alfred

Redbird.Inoticedthathehadsomebruisesandablackeyewhen he came in from theparkinglot.”“I’m so sorry.” Hannah

sighed deeply. “Of coursewe’ll be glad to pay hismedical expenses and makeup for any time he lost fromwork.”

“That’s very generous, butit’s not necessary. Alfreddidn’t need more than acoupleofBand-Aids.”“I’m so glad to hear that.

My mother’s been worriedsick about it. Was Mr.Redbird able to finish hisshiftonTuesdaynight?”“No,” Paul Littletree

chuckled, “but that hadnothing to do with yourbrother. His wife called atmidnight and Alfred left to

takehertothehospital.Theirfirst baby was born at eightthenextmorning.”Hannah smiled, even

though she felt more likefrowning. The bouncer wassounding less and less like aviable suspect. “I’d still liketo apologize to himpersonally. Is he workingtonight?”“No,Igavehimtherestof

the week off with pay. He’llbe back on Monday and he

shouldbeusedtobeinganewfather by then. Relax, MissSwensen.Yourbrotherdidn’tdo any real damage, but I’mafraid we’ll have to ban himfromthecasinoforawhile.”“I certainly can’t blame

youforthat.Youhaveaverynice place here, Mr.Littletree. My friend and Ijustfinishedhavingtheribsatyourrestaurantandtheyweredelicious.”“I’m glad you’re enjoying

your evening with us.” PaulLittletree rose from his chairand Hannah knew that herinterview was over. “Tellyour parents that weappreciatetheirconcern.Andcome out to see us againsoon.”When Hannah emerged

from the office, the securityguardwaswaitingforher.Hewore the same unsmilingvisageasheescortedherbackinto the main part of the

casino, and Hannah foughtthe urge to do something torattle his composure. If heever decided to move toEngland,he’dbeashoo-intoreplace one of the guards atBuckinghamPalace.Lisa was right where

Hannahhadlefther,sittinginfront of the same slotmachine.Therewasapileofquarters in the tray andHannah was surprised. “Areyouwinning,Lisa?”

“I think I’m a couple ofdollars ahead.” Lisa glanceddownathertray.“Whydon’tyou try it? It’s reallya lotoffun.”“All right, but only for a

few minutes. I want to getback before nine. Just letmegetsomechange.”“Takesomeofthese.”Lisa

scoopedsomequartersoutofthe tray and handed them toher.“Maybethey’llbringyouluck.”

The machine next to Lisawas empty and Hannah satdown. Her last suspect hadbeen eliminated. If thebouncer had been at thehospital with his wife, therewas no way he could haveshot Ron. As Hannah pulledthe handle and lost her firstquarter, she wondered whatpeople found so fascinatingabout slot machines. Theyweren’treallyinteractive,butthemanacrosstheaislefrom

her was patting his machinewith his left hand while hepulled the handle with hisright.It must be superstitious

behavior, Hannah decided,and as she glanced at thepeople around her, sherealized that every one ofthemwasdoingsomethingtotry to change their luck. Theladyinthereddresstalkedtoher machine, murmuringendearmentsasthereelsspun

around.Theoldermaninthepolo shirt held down thehandleuntil thereelsstoppedmoving and then he releasedittoflybackwithajerk.Theyoung brunette in the pinksweater was cupping her lefthandinthecointrayasifshecould will the coins to fall.Hannah was amused as sheturned back to her machine.Everything was mechanized.Didn’t they realize thatnothing they could dowould

changetheoutcome?Prompted by the thought

that the sooner they left, thesoonershecouldgethometoMoishe and her comfortablebed, Hannah noticed that itwas possible to drop fivequarters into the coin slotbefore she pulled the handle.That was nice. She’d get ridofhermoneyfivetimesfasterthat way. Hannahconcentrated on dropping inmultiple coins, pulling the

handle,andwaitingtodropinmore.“Isn’tthisfun,Hannah?”Lisa turned to grin at her

and Hannah put on ananswering smile. Some fun.As far as she could see, theonly benefit thatmight comefrom playing the slots was apossible strengthening of themusclesinherrightarm.Hannahdroppedinherlast

five quarters. One more pullof the handle and she’d be

finished. She yanked downtheleverandturnedtoLisatoask her if she was ready toleave, when a siren wailed,red lights flashed, andquartersbegantospewoutofhermachine.“You hit a jackpot!” Lisa

jumpedupfromherchairandrushed over to watch thehailstorm of coins bouncingdown. “How many quartersdidyouputin?”Hannah just stared at the

avalanche of coins clankingnoisily into the metal tray.“Asmany as it could take. Ijust wanted to finish so thatwecouldgohome.”“You did it, Hannah!”

Lisa’smouthdroppedopenasshe lookedupat the flashingnumbers above the machine.“You just won one thousandnine hundred and forty-twodollars!”Hannah stared at the

flashing numbers with

absolute amazement. Thenshe looked down at the reelsand saw that they were alllineduponthejackpoticons.No wonder people liked toplaytheslotmachines.Itwasa lot more fun than she’dthought.

ChapterThirteen

“Hey, Moishe. How aboutsome grub?” Hannah tossedherpurseonto thecouchandcarried Moishe out to thekitchen.Shedrapedherparkaoverachair,setMoishedownnext to his food bowl, and

poured in a generous servingof Meow Mix. Then sheremembered that she’d justwon a slot machine jackpotandsheopenedacanoffancyalbacore tuna and dumpedthat in, too. Moishe meantmore to her than any of theother males in her life. Heshouldenjoy thefruitsofhergoodfortune.She’d already shared her

winnings with Lisa. Hannahhadgivenherabonusoftwo

hundred dollars, making herpromise tobuya fancydressto go with her new shoes.Lisahadn’twantedtotakeit,but after Hannah hadconvinced her that she neverwouldhaveplayedtheslotsifLisa hadn’t urged her, she’dacceptedthemoney.Hannah had done some

mental arithmetic as she’ddriven home, taking intoaccount the money she’dspent investigating Ron’s

murder for Bill. Even aftershe’d subtracted the cost ofthemakeupfromLuanne,thedress from Claire, and themoney they’d spent at TwinPines, she’d still come outoverathousanddollarstothegood.While Moishe munched

andrumbledhiscontentment,Hannah marched to thekitchenphonetocallBillandtellhimthatshe’deliminatedthebouncerasasuspect.Bill

wasn’t at his desk at thesheriff’sstation,butsheleftamessage there and anotherwith Andrea, who promisedto prop up a note by thephone. Hannah hung up, herduty done, and went to herbedroom to change into theoversized sweatshirt andsweatpants she’d boughtwhen the furnace had goneoutlastwinter.Tenminutes later, Hannah

was sitting in her favorite

spotonthecouch,sippingherwineandholdingMoishe.Hewas always starved foraffection when she’d beengone for hours, and tonightwas no exception. Shescratched him under his chinuntilhepurredinecstasyandshe sang the silly little songshe’dmadeupforhim.She’dnever been able to carry atune, but as long as she kepton scratching, Moisheseemedtoenjoyit.Perhapsit

was a very good thing thatshelivedalone.Ifanyonehadheard her singing about howmuch she adored her “bigstrongpuss,”she’dbelockedupasanutcase.The condo complex had

freecableandHannahsurfedthrough the channels. Therewere fifty, but therewas stillnothingshewanted towatch.Shesettledforadocumentaryon forensics. It was possibleshe might learn something.

Butalltheexperttalkedaboutwere the new advances infingerprint technology.Hannah listened to himexpound on the use ofsuperglue in subzerotemperatures to lift printsfromavictim’sskinandthenshe switched to the classicmovies channel. Klute wasplaying and she’d seen itbefore,butshedidn’tfeellikechannel-surfing any longerandsheleftiton.

Hannah thought about thecrime for a while, but thatwas depressing. None of hersleuthing had done a particleof good. The cup with thelipstickhadbeenpromisingatfirst, and she’d managed tofind out that Danielle hadbeen with Ron right beforehe’d been murdered. Butwhat Danielle had told herreally hadn’t mattered in thelong run. She’d checked outCoach Watson and the

jealousy motive, but he’dbeen with Maryann at hismother’s house when Ronhad been shot. Norman wasnolongerasuspect,nowthatDelores had confirmed hisalibi, and the homeless manthatClairehadseenhadbeeneatingbreakfastatthecriticaltime. The bouncer that RonhadfoughtwithatTwinPineswould be in the clear just assoonasBillcheckedwiththehospital, and Hannah was

freshoutofsuspects.Shehadto come up with some othersuspects, but she didn’t haveanyideawheretostart.She reached for the

notepadshekeptbythecouchandscrawleda listofnames:Coach Watson, Norman,Blaze, and Alfred Redbird.Then she sighed and drew alinethrougheachofthem.Asan afterthought, HannahaddedDanielletothelist,butshe really didn’t think that

Danielle had shot Ron. Allthe same, she decided tocheck to see if she had analibi.Hannah picked up the

phone book and pagedthrough to find Danielle’snumber. If Coach Watsonanswered,she’djusthangup.Danielle picked up on the

second ring and Hannahbreathedasighofrelief.“Hi,Danielle. It’s HannahSwensen.Canyoutalk?”

“Just a minute, Hannah.”Hannah heard Danielle saysomething to Boyd aboutorderingcookiesandthenshecamebackontheline.“We’llneed five dozen for my artclass Halloween party,Hannah. I was thinking ofsomething with orangefrosting.”“No problem,” Hannah

answered quickly. “If I askyouyesornoquestions,willthatbeallright?”

“Yes.”“Great.Didyouseeanyone

or make any calls after Rondropped you off onWednesdaymorning?”“Yes. I’d love to see a

sample, Hannah, but I can’tcome in that early onWednesday morning. TheSparklettes man delivers ourwaterbetweeneightandnineand I have to be here to lethimin.”“Can you figure out any

way to tell me exactly whattimehewasthere?”“I hate those morning

deliveries, too. LastWednesday he was here ateightandIalmostoverslept.”“Thanks, Danielle.”

Hannah hung up and jotteddown a note by Danielle’sname. She’d check with theSparklettesdriverand ifhe’ddeliveredwatertoDanielleateight, she could crossDanielle’snameoffthelist.

It was another dead end.Hannah sighed and tried tothink of something positive.Positive thoughts weresupposed to lead to pleasantdreamsandshedidn’twantarepeat of last night’snightmares. At least she wasgetting along with Andreamuch better lately. Perhapsall the old resentments werefadingwiththeyearsandtheycould actually becomefriends.

Hannah had to admit thatshe’dbeenaprettyhardacttofollow in school.Andreahadtaken a lot of criticism fromher teachers about the factthat Hannah had been astraight-A student. Instead ofcompeting with Hannah’sacademic record,Andreahadthrown herself intoextracurricular activities.She’dstarredinschoolplays,sung solos at concerts, andedited the school paper and

yearbook. And Andrea hadcertainly been more popularwith the boys than Hannahhad been. Andrea’s FridayandSaturdaynightshadbeenbooked from her freshmanyearthroughhersenioryear.Hannah sighed. She could

boast of only two datesduringherentiretimeinhighschool.Onehadbeenastudydate at her house with aclassmate who was about toflunk chemistry and it had

taken some very broad hintsfrom Delores before he’dagreedtotakeHannahoutforpizza to thank her for hispassing grade. The other hadbeen her senior prom date.Hannah had found out laterthat ithadentailedapromiseof apart-time summer job inher father’s shop for CliffSchuman to show up at herdoor with a corsage in hishand.Collegehadbeendifferent.

Thereshehadn’tbeentreatedas a pariah because she readthe classics and knew whoWittgensteinandSartrewere.Incollege,theabilitytodoanalgebraicequationinherheadwasn’t considered apersonalitydefect,andnoonethought less of her if sheknew the atomic number ofeinsteinium. Of course, therehad been a group ofincredibly gorgeous,bubbleheaded girls who’d

turned male heads, but mostof them had either flunkedout or left to get their MRSdegrees.Hannah had finally started

to date as a sophomore incollege. She’d gone outwitha too-tall, too-thin historymajor for several months.After that, there had been anintense art major who’dconfided thathewascelibateright after she’d begun tothink they’d had something

going, and a master’scandidate who’d wanted herinputonhisthesis.Truelove,or perhaps it was true lust,hadn’t found her untilNovemberinhersecondyearof postgraduate work. Thatwas when Hannah had metthemanshe’d thoughtwouldbehersoulmate.BradfordRamseyhadbeen

the assistant professor inHannah’spoetryseminar,andthe first time he’d given a

lecture, she’d beenspellbound.Ithadn’tbeenhismanner of speaking or theway he’d read stanzas fromByronandKeats.Ithadbeenhismarvelous,soul-searchingdarkblueeyes.Socialmeetings after class

with the professor had beenfrowned upon by theadministration unless severalstudents were in attendance,but Brad had found waysaroundtherules.Hannahhad

gone tohisoffice for severalstudent-professorconferences. After he’d toldher thathe thoughthewasinlove with her, she’d woundupathisapartment,sneakingthroughthelobbyatelevenatnight with the hood of herparka obscuring her face.Thatnight,andthenightsthatfollowed, had beenmemorable. Hannah haddiscovered that sexwas a lotmore fun than she’d thought

itwouldbe.Butthelastnightshe’d spent with herhandsomeprofessorhadbeenmemorable in a way she’dneveranticipated.Hisfiancéehad driven in for a surprisevisit,Bradhadpanicked,andHannah had been forced tovacate his bed byway of anicyfireescape.Hannah had broken it off

and told herself that shewaswiser for the experience, butthathadn’tmadeitanyeasier.

Seeingherformerloverstrideacross campus with a gaggleof young, impressionablegirls in his wake had beenalmost too painful to bear. Ithad come as a relief whenAndreahadaskedhertoleavecollege and come back toLake Eden to help settle herfather’s affairs. That didn’tmean that Hannah had givenup on men. She was justtakingabreather,waiting forone she could love and trust

to come along. In themeantime, she had herfamily, her work, and herloyalcat.Andifherbedwaslonely and she sometimeswished thatshehadsomeonewithoutfurrypawstocuddle,shecoulddealwithit.The phone rang and

Hannah reached out toanswerit.“Hi,Bill.It’sabouttime.”“Howdidyouknowitwas

me?”

“Who else could it be?Mother never calls me thislate and Andrea told me shewasgoingtobedanhourago.Did you find out anythingnewaboutRon?”“Notathing.”Billsounded

depressed. “Ron had noknown enemies, he didn’towe any large amounts ofmoney, and there were nodeposits to his bank accountthat couldn’t be explained.I’vegotzilch.”

Hannah was quick tocommiserate, “Me, too. Italked to the manager at thecasinoandIthinkwehavetoeliminate the bouncer as asuspect. His name is AlfredRedbird and you shouldcheck with the hospital. Hiswifehadababythatmorning.Ifhewaswithher thewholetime, he couldn’t have shotRon.”“Okay.”Billsoundedeven

morediscouraged.“I’mfresh

out of leads, Hannah. If wehad a motive, we’d havesomething to go on, but wedon’tevenhavethat.”Hannah’seyesweredrawn

tothetelevisionscreen.Klutewas still playing and thatgaveheranidea.“Maybewedo have a motive. What ifRon saw something thatmorning, something thatcouldincriminatehiskillerinsome way? That might bewhyhewasshot.”

“And Ron was murderedbeforehecould implicatehiskiller in another crime?”Billwassilentfora longmomentand Hannah knew he wasthinking it over. “You couldberight.ButhowdowefindoutwhatRonsaw?”“I’llgobacktomysource,

theonewiththepinklipstick.She can tell me if anythingunusual happened thatmorning.”“Okay.”Therewasanother

long silence and then Billsighed. “Maybe you’d betterwarn her to be careful. Ifyou’rerightandshesawwhatRon saw, the killer mightcomeafterher.”“He won’t. I’m the only

one who knows who she isand she’s sure that no onespotted her with Ron. If thekiller wanted to murder her,he would have done it bynow.”“Maybe.”

Bill didn’t soundconvinced and Hannahfrowned. ForDanielle’s sakeshe certainly hoped that shewasright.“You’ve been a big help,

Hannah.Bytheway,didyouknow that your mother sawRon pulling away fromNorman’s dental office rightbefore she went in for herappointment?”“Norman toldme about it.

Iquestionedhim,buthe said

thatRonwasonlyinhischairfor twenty minutes. He gaveRon a shot of Xylocaine forhis cracked tooth and Ronwas supposed to come backtogetitfixed.I’llgetbacktoyou as soon as I talk to mysource. I’m sure she’ll be atthe Woodleys’ party. And ifyouwant to talk to Norman,he’llbethere,too.”“Andrea told me that you

were going to the party withNorman.Isitserious?”

“Serious?WithNorman?”“I was just teasing you,

Hannah. I’ll see you at theparty and we can comparenotes.”Hannah hung up and

flickedoffthetelevision.Shescooped up Moishe, carriedhim into the bedroom, anddeposited him on the pillowshe’ddesignatedashisonthefirst night he’d spent in hercondo. Then she went backforherwineglassand flicked

offthelights,takingaseatinthe old wing chair she’dplaced in front of herbedroom window. The snowwasstillfallinganditcreatedlovely halos around the old-fashioned streetlights thatlined the brick walkwaysbetween the units. It was aperfect winter scene, worthyof Currier and Ives.According to her college artprofessor, people who livedin warm climates loved

winter scenes with theirglittering expanses ofunbroken snow and yellowlight spilling out from thewindows of snug, cozyhomes. Minnesotans whobought scenic art usuallyavoided winter scenes.Hannah didn’t find thatsurprising.Minnesotawinterswere long. Why would theywant to buy a painting thatwould constantly remindthem of the bone-chilling

cold,theheavysnowthathadto be shoveled, and thenecessity of dressing up insurvival gear to do nothingmore than take out thegarbage?Hannah had finished the

last of her wine and wasabout to rouse herself toclimb in under the coverswhen shenoticed that oneofthe cars in the visitors’parking lot was idling, itsexhaust pipe sending up

plumes of white against thedarknight sky. Its headlightswere off and that was odd,unless someonewas taking avery long time to saygoodbye to his date. Shecould seeonlyoneoccupant,a bulky figure behind thewheelthatsheassumedwasaman. As she watched, shesaw a reflection glinting offtwo round lenses in front ofhis face. Binoculars? Oreyeglasses? Hannah couldn’t

tell at this distance, but thefact that no one else was inthecarmadehernervous.Hannah stared at the car,

memorizing its shape. It wasa small compact in a darkcolor, but it was parked toofar away to identify themanufacturer. The rooflooked lighter than the body,and Hannah assumed that itwascoveredwith snow.Thiscar had been parked for awhileandthedriverappeared

tobewatchingherbuilding.Therewereonlyfourunits

in her building. Phil andSuePlotnik lived below her andthere was no earthly reasonwhy anyone would sit in aparked car to watch theirplace.Philwashometonight.She’d seen his car in thegarage when she’d driven inand she’d heard their newbaby fussing softly as she’dclimbedthestairstoherunit.Hannah’s other neighbors

were equally unremarkable.Mrs. Canfield, an elderlywidow, had the bottom unitnexttothePlotniks.Shelivedon her husband’s retirementmoney and gave pianolessons during the week.Above her were Margueriteand Clara Hollenbeck, twomiddle-aged unmarriedsisters who were very activeat Redeemer LutheranChurch. As far as Hannahknew, there wasn’t a breath

of gossip about them, exceptfor the time they’d washedthe altar cloths with a redblouse of Clara’s and they’dcomeoutpink.Hannah felt a chill as she

stared at the car and itsmotionless driver. Therewasonly one unit the man couldbewatchinganditwashers.Ron’s killer! The thought

struck Hannah like alightning bolt of dread. Billhad told her to be careful

about asking questions andshethoughtshehad.Butwhatifthekillerhadthemisguidednotionthatshewashotonhistrail?Bill’swordscamebacktohaunther:Ifhekilledonce,he won’t hesitate to killagain.Thesecuritylighthadbeen

on this morning. Hannahshivered as she remembered.She’dassumedthatabirdhadset it off, but perhaps she’dbeenwrong.HadRon’skiller

attempted to get into hercondo?Hannahswallowedpastthe

lump of fear in her throat,took a deep breath, andforced herself to thinkrationally.ShereallyhatedtocallBillandrousthimoutofhis comfortable bed. Billwouldracerightoverhere toquestion the guy, but she’dfeel like a fool if the driverhad some perfectly goodreason for being there. But

what reason could there beforsittinginacarinthedeadofnight,aloneinthesnow?She thought about it for

severalminutesandshecameup with only one possiblescenario. The driver waslocked out of his condo. Butwhy would he park in thevisitors’ lot if he lived here?It was a lot warmer in thegarage.Hannah didn’t think she

wasinanyactualdanger.Bill

had installed a police-recommended deadbolt onher door when she’d firstmoved in and he’d put extralocksonallthewindows.Sheeven had an alarm system,installed by the previousowner, that boasted a siren,clanking bells, and twokeypads, one by the frontdoor and another in herbedroom. Hannah had neverbothered to turn it onbefore,but tonight she would. She

hadn’t been born with ninelives like her felineroommate.Shewasabouttogotothe

keypadtoactivatethesystemwhenshehadabrilliantidea.The moment she thought ofit, she jumped up andrummaged through the closetfor her camera. She’d take apicture of the car. It wassitting right under thestreetlight and the licenseplatewouldshow.Andshe’d

turn the film over to Bill inthemorning.Hercamerawasoutoffilm

andittookafranticsearchtofindaroll.Hannahturnedoffthe flash, knowing it wouldjust glare off herwindowpane, and used thezoom lens to snap severalshots of the car. Then sheactivated the security systemand sat down in her chair.She’d done all she could,withtheexceptionofalerting

Bill, but she’d never be abletosleeppeacefully.Shemightas well resign herself to anall-nightstintofsurveillance.Several minutes later,

armed with a freshly madecup of coffee and a box ofwhite cheddar cheesecrackers,Hannahsatdowninher chair again. As shealternately crunched andsipped, Moishe opened hisgoodeyetogiveheracuriousstareandpromptlywentback

tosleepagain.“Someattackcatyouare!”

Hannah complained. Andthen she heard the sound ofanother car approaching thevisitors’ parking lot. As itdrove past one of the old-fashioned streetlights,Hannah recognized BerniceMaciej’syellowCadillac.Bernice, who lived in the

building directly across fromHannah, turned in to parknexttothesnow-coveredcar.

Shegotout, themangotout,and they embraced in theparking lot. Hannah punchedin the code to turn off thesecurity system and openedthe window to listen in ontheir conversation. She heardBernicesay:“Sorry,honey. Ididn’t think I’d be out thislate.” And the man replied,“That’s okay, Mom. Thetraffic was light and I gothere sooner than I thought Iwould.”

Feeling more than a bitfoolish, Hannah closed thewindow, set her alarm clock,andclimbedunderthecovers.She roustedMoishe from thenesthe’dmadeonherpillowand plunked him down onhis.“I must be getting

paranoid,”Hannahmurmuredas she reached out to petMoishe’s soft fur. “I shouldhave takenmy cue fromyouandjustcurledupandgoneto

sleep.”

ChapterFourteen

When Hannah woke up thenext morning, she was in afoul mood. She was used togetting along without therecommended eight hours ofsleep, but she’d spent a veryrestlessnightandsomeofher

dreams had been disturbing.Ron’skillerhadchasedherina yellow Cadillac bearing astriking resemblance to theone Bernice drove. Her finalnightmarehadn’tbeensobad.She’d dreamed that she wasbeing held down and tickledby a furrymonster. By now,Hannah knew what thatdream meant. Moishe hadcrawled onto her pillow.She’d managed to rouseherself enough to shove him

over,andtherestofthenighthadbeenrelativelypeaceful.Therewasalistonthepad

of notepaper she kept on hernight table and Hannahswitched on the light to readit. The words FluffyDreamswere written at the top andtheywereinherhandwriting.Shemusthavebeendreamingaboutcookiesagain.Oh, yes. Hannah began to

smile. She remembered thedream now. She’d been

catering a reception at theWhite House and thepresident, a young AbeLincoln, had raved about hercookies. His wife, BarbaraBush, had asked for therecipeandshe’dwrittenitoutrightthereintheOvalOffice.Hannah laughed out loud.

Abe Lincoln and BarbaraBush. She guessed sheshouldn’tbesurprised. Ithadbeen a dream, after all. Butshe had written down the

recipe. Perhaps herunconscious had come upwithsomethingdelicious.Thewordswerewritten in

an untidy scrawl. Obviously,shehadn’tbotheredtoturnonthe light. Hannah made outthe word butter and a bitfarther down sugar. Betweenthe two words was a scrawlthat looked like pooches. Itmust be peaches, and peachcookies were an intriguingconcept. She also made out

marshes for marshmallows,and cuckoo, which could beeither cocoa or coconut.Perhaps she’d experiment abit with the ingredients andseewhatshecouldmake.Hannah carried the

notebook out to the kitchenand poured herself a fragrantcup of coffee. After severalbracing sips, shenoticed thatthere was another linescrawledat thebottomof therecipe. It said: D—ask not

with.Therewasaplaintiveyowl

fromthedirectionofthefoodbowl, and Hannah got up todump in the kitty crunchies.As she filledMoishe’swaterbowlwith filteredwater, shethoughtaboutthatlastcrypticnote.The“D” wasDanielle.Hannahwasalmostcertainofthat. But what was “ask notwith?”Itcametoherinaflashof

brilliant insight. Her mind

had been working overtimelast night. She’d wanted toremindherselftoaskDanielleif there had been any time,during their night and earlymorning together, that Ronhadgone somewherewithoutDanielle.HannahsetMoishe’swater

bowl down on his Garfieldrubbermat andwent back tothe table to finishher coffee.If yesterday and the daybefore were any indication,

today would be hectic. Shereached for the notepad,turned to a fresh page, andwrotedownalistofthingstodo.The first item Hannah

wrote was Sparklettes. Shehad to call to find out whattime Danielle’s water hadbeendeliveredonWednesdaymorning.IfwhatDaniellehadtold her was true, Daniellewasintheclear.Hannahmadeanothernote:

Herb—Lisa. She wanted tocornerHerbBeesemanonherway to work and convincehim to callLisa to invite herto the Woodleys’ party. Itwas late notice, but Hannahwas almost sure that Lisawould accept. When she’daskedlastnight,Lisahadtoldher that she’d received aninvitation to the Woodleys’party, but that she wasn’tplanning to go. It wasn’tbecauseofherfather—oneof

theneighborshadvolunteeredto sit with him—but Lisareally didn’t want to attendthe biggest party of the yearbyherself.Shehadn’twantedtotagalongwithHannahandNorman, either, and thatwaswhenHannahhaddecided totalkHerbintoaskingLisa.The third item on her list

was Lisa—dress. Hannahplanned to takeLisa toBeauMondeduringtheirslowtimebetween eleven and twelve.

She’d put a sign on the doorand if anyone was thatdesperate for a cookie, theycould come next door to gether.Thenext lineonHannah’s

list said: Clue Claire. She’ddashoverthismorning,whileLisawasbaking,totellClairethat the dress Lisa choseshould be “on sale” for sixtydollars. She’d make up thedifference and they couldsettle up later, when Lisa

wasn’taround.Moishe gave another yowl

and Hannah noticed that hisfood bowl was empty again.Her cat was a regular felinegarbage disposal, but hedidn’tseemtobegaininganyweight. Perhaps he did kittyaerobics when she wasn’thome.“That looks lovely on

you,” Claire announced as

Lisa walked out of thedressing room wearing awine-reddress.“Whatdoyouthink,Hannah?”Hannah laughed. “You’re

askingme?Youshouldknowbetter, Claire. How manytimeshaveyouwantedtotellme that allmy taste is inmymouth?”“Too many times to

count.”Clairelaughedlightlyand then she turned to Lisa.“Whatdoyouthink,Lisa?”

“I’mnot sure. I really likethis one, but the emeraldgreen is such a wonderfulcolor.”“Too bad they’re not

twofers.” Hannah winked atClaire,hopingthatshe’dtakethehint.Itwasunlikely.BeauMonde was a boutique, andClaire thoughtofherselfasafashion consultant, severalcuts above an owner or asaleslady. Hannah doubtedthat her high-fashion

neighborhadeverconsideredhavingatwo-for-onesale.“It’s strange that you

should mention it, Hannah.”Claire surprised Hannah bytaking the hint immediately.“Asithappens,Ijustmarkedthese two particular dressesdown. The wine satin sheathhas a slight imperfection inthe bodice and the button onthe back of the green silkdoesn’tquitematch thecolorofthedress.”

Lisa’seyesopenedwide.“Ididn’tevennotice!”“Perhaps not, but I did.

And I refuse to let mycustomers pay full price forsomething that isn’tabsolutelyperfect.”“How much are they

now?”Lisaasked.Hannah held her breath. If

Clairementionedaprice thatwas too low, Lisa wouldsuspect that they were incahoots.

“They’re both on sale forsixty. That’s two-thirds offtheregularprice.Believeme,Lisa, you’ll be doing me afavorifyoutakethemoffmyhands.Returningthingstomysupplierisanightmare.”“ThenI’lltakethemboth.”

Lisawassoexcitedhervoicesqueaked.“There’s only one

condition.” Claire lookedvery serious. “You have topromise that you won’t tell

anyone else how much theycost.If theotherwomenfindout that you paid only sixtydollars for a Beau Mondedress, they’ll all ask forspecialprices.”“Iwon’t tell anyone.Even

if I did, they’d never believeme. Thank you, Claire. Thisisreallymyluckyday!”While Lisa changed back

into her working clothes,Hannah dashed back to TheCookie Jar. She’d been gone

less than fifteenminutes, butthere were several peoplewaitingtogetin.Oneofthemwas Bill, and Hannah pulledhimaside, once she’dwaitedon her customers. “Whydidn’tyoucomenextdoortoget me? I was just helpingLisabuyadress.”“That’s okay. You didn’t

find out anything new, didyou?”“Not since I talked to you

lastnight.”Hannahshookher

head. She’d called theSparklettes office andconfirmed Danielle’s alibi,buttherewasnoreasontotellBill about that. “Did youcheckonthebouncer?”“Thematernitywardnurse

said that he was at thehospital until nine onWednesday morning. I justdropped by to remind youthatthesheriff’sdepartment’sopen house is tomorrow.You’regoingtobakecookies

forus,aren’tyou?”“OfcourseIam.It’sonmy

calendar.” Hannah led theway into the back room andpointed to the huge calendarthathungonherwall.“What kind are you

making?”“BlackandWhites.Imight

aswell startmixing them uprightnow.”“BlackandWhites?”“They’re fudge cookies

withpowderedsugarontop,”

Hannah explained. “Ideveloped the recipe lastweek and I’m naming themafteryournewsquadcars.”“The guys will like that.

Are you going to bake themnow?”“No, not until tomorrow

morning. The dough has tochillovernight.I’llhavethemout at the station beforenoon.”“That’s another reason I

came in. Sheriff Grant’s

driving the new guy aroundandhesaidthey’dcomeintopickthemup.”“Newguy?”“He’scoming in tomorrow

morning. Sheriff Grant hireda really good detective awayfromtheMPD.”“WhywouldaMinneapolis

detectivewanttocomehere?”Hannah was flabbergasted.“It’sgottomeanabigsalarycut.”“I know. We only make

half as much as the MPDguys do, but I heard that hewanted to move here forpersonalreasons.”“Personalreasons?”“Yeah, he wanted to get

out of Minneapolis. I knowhis wife died. I figure heprobably wants to make afreshstartwherethingsdon’tremindhimofher.”That made sense, but

Hannah was still worried.Winnetka County was big,

but did the sheriff’sdepartment really need twonewdetectives?“There’s a lot I can learn

fromhisguy,Hannah.Igotachance to peek at hispersonnel jacket and he’ssolvedatonoftoughcases.”Hannahnoddedandgotout

her mixing bowls, arrangingtheminarow.WhatBillhadjust told her disturbed herdeeply. If this new man hadbeen hired as a detective, it

didn’t bode well for Bill’spromotion. “Do you havetimetowatchtheshopformewhile I mix up this dough?Lisa should be back anyminute and I’ll pay you incookies.”“Sure.”Billgaveherabig

grin. “I’m on my lunchbreak.”OnceBillhadleft,Hannah

gathered the ingredients forthe cookies she’d namedBlackandWhites.While she

worked,shethoughtaboutthenew detective. Bill had saidthat his wife had died, andDeloreswasboundtozeroinon any new unattached manintown.Hannah did her best to

practice positive thinking asshe mixed up the dough.She’d won a jackpot lastnight, and if her luck held,Bill’snewcolleaguewouldn’tbe the type of man that hermother would consider as a

prospective son-in-law.Unfortunately, as far asDelores was concerned, anyambulatory male without afelony conviction was aviablecandidate.

BLACKANDWHITES

Donotpreheatovenyet—doughmustchillbeforebaking.

2 cupschocolatechips

¾ cupbutter(1½

sticks)2 cupsbrownsugar(orwhitesugarwith ascant 2tablespoonsmolassesmixedin)

4eggs

2teaspoonsvanilla

2teaspoonsbakingpowder

1teaspoonsalt

2 cupsflour(notsifted)

approx.½cupconfectioners’sugar(powderedsugar)in asmallbowl

Meltchocolate

chips withbutter.(Microwaveonhighpowerfor2minutes,thenstir untilsmooth.)

Mix in

sugar and letcool. Addeggs, one at atime, mixingwellaftereach

addition. Mixin vanilla,bakingpowder, andsalt.Add flourandmixwell.

Chill dough

for at least 4hours.(Overnight isevenbetter.)

Whenyou’re readyto bake,preheat ovento350degreesF., rack in themiddleposition.

Rollwalnut-sized doughballswithyourhands. (Messy—wear plasticgloves if youwish.) Dropthe doughballs into abowl with thepowderedsugar and rollthem arounduntil they’re

coated. (If thedoughgets toowarm, stick itback in therefrigeratoruntil you canhandle itagain.)

Place the

balls on agreasedcookiesheet, 12 to astandard sheet.

(They willflatten whenthey bake.)Bake at 350degrees F. for12 to 14minutes. Letthem cool onthe cookiesheet for 2minutes, andthenremovetowire rack tofinishcooling.

Made these

for theWinnetkaCountySheriff’sDepartmentOpen House,in honor oftheir four newcruisers.

Yield:6to8

dozen,

depending oncookiesize.

ChapterFifteen

Hannah stepped back toassessherreflection.Hernewdress was exquisite. She’dpulledherfrizzyredhairbackin the ebony clasp heryounger sister Michelle hadsent from an art and jewelry

fair they’d held on theMacalester campus, and itactually looked good. AndLisahadbeenright.Hernewshoes couldn’t have beenmore perfect.Hannah lookedsophisticatedforthefirsttimeinherlife,anditwasabitofa shock. She also lookedsexy, which was even moreofashock,andshehopedthatNormanwouldn’tthinkshe’dwornthisdressjustforhim.Moishe yowled from his

spot on the bed and Hannahturned togivehima thumbs-up.“You’reright.IknowI’venever looked this goodbefore. It’s a real change,isn’tit?”Moishe yowled again and

Hannahassumedthatitwasachange he didn’t appreciate.He also knew that she wasgoingoutagainandhedidn’tappreciate that, either. Shedabbed on a bit of perfumefromthebottleofChanelNo.

Five that her old collegeroommate had given heryears before, and headed offto the kitchen to appease thebeast that lived under herroof.Several kitty treats later

andMoishewashappyagain.Hannah paced across thefloor, waiting for Norman.Shedidn’tdaresitdown.Hernew dress was black andevery chair in her apartmentwas inundated with orange

cathair.Shewasjustcrossingthe living room for thesixteenth time when herdoorbellchimed.“Stay!” Hannah used the

command voice the dogtrainers on television usedandMoishelookedstartled.Itprobablydidn’tworkoncats,buttherewasreallynodangerofMoisheescapingwhensheopened the door. He had afull food bowl and he knewwhen he had a good thing

going.“Hi, Hannah.” Norman

looked a little nervous as hethrustoutaflorist’sbox.“Uh...theseareforyou.”Hannahsmiledandushered

him in. To her surprise,Norman looked much betterin his formal clothing thanshe’d thought he would.“Thanks,Norman.JustletmegetmycoatandI’llbe readytogo.”“You’d better put those in

waterfirst.”Normangesturedtoward the box. “Mymotherwanted me to get you acorsage, but I told her thatthiswasn’tapromdate.”Hannah laughed and led

theway to thekitchen to getout a vase. She filled it withwater, opened the box, andsmiledasshetookoutalargebunch of pink, white, andyellow daisies. “Thank you,Norman. They’re beautifuland I like them much better

thanacorsage.”“You didn’t tell me you

had a cat.”Norman stared atMoishe, who had lifted hishead from the depths of hisfood dish to examine thestrangerwhohadinvadedhiskitchen.Hannah quickly thrust the

flowersinthevaseandturnedtoNormaninalarm.“Sorry.Ididn’t think to tell you.You’renotallergic,areyou?”“Not at all. Cats are some

ofmyfavoritepeople.What’shisname?”“Moishe.”“AfterMosheDayan?”“That’sright.He’sblindin

oneeye.”“Perfect name.” Norman

bent down and extended hishand. “Come here and meetme,bigguy.”Hannah watched in

amazementasMoishepaddedover to Norman and rubbedup against his hand. Her cat

had never been this sociablebefore. Norman scratchedhim under the chin and shecould hear Moishe’s purr allthe way across the kitchen.“Helikesyou.”“Iguesshedoes.”Hannah watched as

Norman scooped Moishe upand tickled his belly,something Moishe usuallyhated. But her cat just lolledinNorman’sarmsandlookedasblissfulasacatcouldlook.

“Okay, Moishe. We haveto go.” Norman carried himouttothelivingroomandsethimdownon thecouch.“Doyou leave the television onforhim?”Hannah nodded, hoping

Norman wouldn’t think shewas crazy. “It’s company forhimwhenI’mgone.”“Thatmakes sense. I’ll do

it while you get your coat.Whichchanneldoeshelike?”“Anything except Animal

Planet. They run vetprograms and he hates vets.”Hannahwenttotheclosetandgrabbed the coat she’dchosen, a previously ownedcashmere that she’d found atHelping Hands. When shecame back into the room,Norman was frowning. “Isthere something wrong,Norman?”“Iwas just kickingmyself

forforgettingtotellyouhowgorgeous you look. I should

have said that right away.Mother would have a fit ifsheknew.”Hannah laughed. “So

would my mother. Deloresmademepromise to tell youhow nice you looked and Iforgot.Ifwerunintothematthe party, we won’t mentionit.How’sthat?”“Good.” Norman opened

the door and waited forHannahtostepthrough.“Uh...Hannah?”

“Yes, Norman?” Hannahdouble-locked the door withher key and they walkeddownthestairs tothegroundfloor.“We’re going to run into

themattheparty.Asamatteroffact,we’llseethembeforethat.”Hannahwinced.“Don’ttell

mewe’repickingthemup!”“Not exactly. I did that

already, before I came to getyou.They’rebothwaitingfor

usinthebackseatofmycar.”Hannah felt as if shewere

stuck in a timewarp as theydrove to the Woodleys’mansion. It was a lot likebeingakidagain,draggedoffto a party by hermother. Tomake matters worse,Norman’s mother hadbrought a camera and she’dblithely announced that sheplanned to take pictures of

them.Hannahhadfearedthatthiseveningmightturnouttobeanordeal,butitwasgoingto be even worse than she’danticipated.TheWoodleymansionwas

ablaze with lights and whentheypulledup,ared-jacketedvalet came forward to takeNorman’s car. Anotherparking attendant opened thedoors, and Hannah and theirmothers were assisted out ofthe car and up to the front

entrance.Hannah gazed around her

as she entered the foyer onNorman’s arm. It had beendecorated for the occasionwith banks upon banks oftropical blooms. Of coursetheywere imported.Birds ofParadise, Royal Poinciana,and Chinese Hibiscus didn’tgrow in Minnesota, even inthe summer. They had beentransported from warmerclimates, and Hannah knew

they had to have beenoutrageouslyexpensive.Therewasaharpist,seated

inanalcove,playingclassicalmusic. Hannah thought thatwasanice touch.Leave it toJudithWoodley to provide atouch of class from themoment they entered thedoor.“Your coat, ma’am?” A

prettymaid,dressedinadarkgreen uniform and a frillywhite apron, helped Hannah

out of her coat. “Would youcare to freshen up in theladies’powderroom?”“Yes, thank you,” Hannah

replied, and then she turnedtoNorman.“I’mjustgoingtorun a currycomb throughmyhair.”Norman chuckled at her

reference to the tool thatwasused togroomhorses. “I likeyourhair,Hannah.”“Ma’am?” The maid

touched Hannah’s arm. “If

you’ll just follow me,please.”Hannah made

arrangements to meetNorman at the bar and wentoffwiththemaid.Shewasanattractive brunette thatHannah didn’t recognize,though she thought she’dseen her at last year’s party.The Woodleys always hiredoutside help for their parties.Judith complained that thelocal girls simply weren’t

capable of being trained forsuch a special event.Hannahturnedtothemaidandasked,“You’renotfromLakeEden,areyou?”“Minneapolis, ma’am. I

work for Parties Plus, theservice that Mrs. Woodleyuses.”“That’salongwaytodrive

for one party,” Hannahcommented, giving her afriendlysmile.“Oh, that’s no problem.

Mrs. Woodley arranges forour transportation,and this isone party Iwouldn’twant tomiss.I’vebeenhereforthreeyearsinarow.”“IthoughtIrecognizedyou

from last year. What makesthis party better than otherparties?”“It’sa five-dayassignment

and we have the use of theindoor pool and spa. Mrs.Woodley even caters ourmeals while we’re here. It’s

almostlikeapartyforus.”Hannah was fishing, but

she never knew wheninformation like this mightcomeinhandy.“Iguessyourregular assignments aren’tthisnice?”“Noway.Usuallywe’rein

andoutinlessthansixhoursandwework likedogswhilewe’re there. Mrs. Woodleyalways allows plenty of timeforustosetup.”Hannahwascurious.“How

longhaveyoubeenhere?”“Since Tuesday morning.

We spent two days cleaning,and yesterday we set up thetables andmade sure that alltheglasswareanddisheswereready. Today we just helpedthecaterer.”“Whendoyougoback?”“Right after we do the

cleanup tomorrow morning.We’reusuallyontheroadbynoon. I’ll be back home bytwo at the latest, but Mrs.

Woodley pays us for thewholeday.”They had arrived at the

ladies’ powder room andHannahwent intotakestockof the damage. Her hairlooked all right and she justpatted down a few loosecurls. Then she refreshed thelipstick that Luanne Hankshad decided was just perfectfor her andwent back out tofindNorman.Norman was standing by

thebar,almostlostinaseaoftaller faces. As Hannahmoved toward him, she wasgladherheelswereonlythreeinches high. “Hi, Norman.I’mback.”“And just in time.”

Norman took her arm andmoved her away from thecrowd. “Our mothers areheaded this way. Let’s goover and pay our respects totheWoodleys.”The reception line wasn’t

long, and Hannah andNorman took their places atthe end. As they approachedtheir host and hostess,Hannah admired JudithWoodley’sdress.Itwasmadeof lilac silk and the bodicewas beaded with tiny pearls.Her light brown hair wascaught up in an elaboratetwist on the top of her headand she looked lovely, asalways. Shewas smiling andchatteringwithherguestsand

she appeared quite animated.Del, on the other hand,lookedsurprisinglyglum,andHannah noticed that therewere dark circles under hiseyes.“Hannah.” Judith extended

herhand.“Howlovelytoseeyou.”Hannah had the insane

urge to reply that it waslovely to be seen, but shethought better of it. Shesearched her mind for

something appropriate to sayand pulled out a standardcompliment. “You looklovely tonight, Judith. I hadno idea that Claire had suchwonderful dresses in hershop.”“Claire?” Judith’s green

eyes widened, and Hannahknewshe’djuststuckherfootin the mud. “This isn’t fromBeau Monde, Hannah. Billydesigned it especially forme.”

“Billy?”“Billy Blass. He’s a close

personal friendofmine.AndIseethatyouhaveadatethisyear.Hownice.”Hannah cringed and

introduced Norman to theWoodleys, making sure tomention that Norman hadarrived to take over hisfather’sdentalpractice.Theychatted with the Woodleysforanotherbriefmomentandthentheymovedon.

“Billy Blass.” NormanchuckledashetookHannah’sarm.“IwonderifhecallsherJudy.”Hannah laughed

appreciatively. This partymightbe fun ifNormankeptmakingjokes.Sheacceptedaglass of champagne from apassing waiter and theywandered through the crowdforafewminutes,hailingthepeople that they knew. Thentheywalkedover toviewthe

appetizertable.“Caviar.” Norman pointed

to the black tapioca-lookingsubstance ina largecut-glassbowl that was nestled in alargerbowlofshavedice.“It’s beluga,” Hannah

informed him. “I asked lastyear and the waiter told methat the Woodleys wouldn’tserveanythingelse.”Norman was obviously

impressed because heaccepted a caviar-laden toast

point from the waiter andsmiled in anticipation as heraised it to his mouth. ThenhelookedoveratHannahandfroze. “I’m sorry, Hannah. Ishould have asked. Wouldyoucareforsomecaviar?”“No, thanks. I know that

beluga’s the best that moneycan buy, but I grew up rightnexttoalake.It’sstillalljustfisheggstome.”While Norman busied

himself with the caviar,

Hannah walked over tosurvey the rest of the buffet.She’d heard that Judith hadhired the best caterer inMinneapolis. Hannah couldbelieve that as she walkedpast evenly fanned slices ofbeef fillet, platters ofSmithfield ham, a wholepoached salmon on a bed ofdill, and several massiveplates of carved chicken andturkey breast. There was asilver platter of tender baby

asparagus, each tip pointingoutwardtoformagiantwheelwith a silver pitcher ofhollandaise in thecenter,anda large crystal bowl thatwasfilledtothebrimwithglazedcarrots.Hannahsparedonlyapassingglanceforthetinyredpotatoes that had beensteamed in their colorfuljackets and the deviled quaileggs.Herareaofinterestwasthedesserttable.The desserts were

gorgeous. There were smallbitesofcakethatwerefrostedand decorated with tinyedible flowers, an array oftruffles on a platter strewnwith rose petals, chocolate-dippedstrawberrieswiththeirstems intact, and a largesilverbasketfilledwithsugarcookies. Her professionalinterest aroused, Hannahselected a cookie and tastedit.Thecookiecrunchedinher

mouth,justthewayitshould,but it was definitely on thedry side. The anticipatedburst of butter that shouldhave exploded on her tastebudswas lacking. Therewasno vanilla taste, either, andHannah began to frown.These cookies looked nice,buttheyreallyhadnotasteatall.“Excuse me?” The female

caterer, dressed in anexpensive suit, walked over

to give Hannah a nervoussmile. “I couldn’t helpnoticing your reaction to thecookies. Don’t you likethem?”Hannahthoughtabouttact.

Then she thought about newbusiness. New business wonout and she decided that shewouldn’tbedoingthecatererany favors if she didn’t tellher the truth. She steppedcloser and lowered her voiceso that none of the other

guests would hear. “Thecookies are disappointing. Ihopeyoudidn’tmakethem.”“You don’t pull any

punches, do you?” Thecatererlookedamused.“Not really.Didyoumake

them?”“No.Iboughtthemfroma

supplier.”Hannah was relieved. At

least she didn’t have to tellthe caterer that her ownrecipe was at fault. “Don’t

buy from them anymore.They use cheap shorteninginstead of butter and they’remuchtoolightonthevanilla.They overbake them, too.Theyprobablysettheirovenslow to keep them frombrowning and leave them infortoolong.”“How do you know they

useshortening?”“There’s no butter taste,”

Hannah explained. “A sugarcookiewithoutbutterislikea

car without gas. It looksgood,butitdoesn’twork.”The caterer laughed.

“You’ve got a point. Howcould you tell that they’reoverbaked?”“That’s easy. They’re as

dry as sawdust. Taste one—you’llsee.”“Ialreadyhaveandyou’re

right. Are you in foodservice?”“Just cookies. I own a

place called The Cookie Jar.

Ifyougivemeyourcard,I’llsend you a sample box ofgoodsugarcookies.”The caterer reached into

her pocket and handedHannah a card. “I’ve beenthinking about switchingsuppliers.Couldyouhandleastandingorder?”“That depends on the

order.” As Hannah openedherdresspurseandstuck thecard inside, she wished thatshe’d had cards made. She

really hadn’t thought it wasimportantuntilnow.“Callmeif you like the cookies andwe’ll discuss it. I’ll includemycardwhenIsendthem.”After the caterer had left,

Hannah turned to look forNorman. She found himstandingafewfeetbehindherandhewasgrinningfromeartoear.“Whatisit,Norman?”“You. You’re amazing,

Hannah.” Norman took herarm and walked her toward

the grouping of small tablesthat were set up for dining.“If Iwentafternewbusinessthe way you do, I’d have toenlargetheofficeandputinarevolvingdoor.”Hannah laughed. “I guess

you’re right. When it comestomycookies,Iknowthey’rethe best and I’m not shyabout telling people. But Ialmost goofed, Norman. Inever thought about havingcardsmadebefore.”

“You don’t have businesscards?”Hannahshookherhead.“I

just didn’t think it wasimportant. I told that catererI’d include one with thecookies, so I guess I’ll havetoordersome.”“I’ll do some for you on

my computer,” Normanoffered. “That’s how I printmine.”“Thanks, Norman.” As

they neared the tables,

Hannah thought again abouthowniceNormanwas. Thensomeonestoodupandwaved,and Hannah recognized Lisaand Herb. “There’s Lisa.She’s my assistant at theshop. And you must knowHerb Beeseman. He’s ourtownmarshal.”‘’Marshal? I thought he

was in charge of parkingenforcement.”“He is, but the jobdoesn’t

paymuch.Herbwastheonly

applicant and they let himchoose his own title. He’salwaysbeenfascinatedbytheOldWest.”“I see.Well, let’s go over

andsayhello.”Lisa and Herb had staked

out a four-person table, andHannah and Norman joinedthem for amoment.The twomen immediately startedtalking about the trafficproblem onMain Street, andHannah turned toLisa. “You

look wonderful, Lisa. Areyouhavingagoodtime?”Lisa smiled, and Hannah

noticed that her eyes weresparklingwith excitement. “Isaw your mother and Mrs.Rhodes. They asked if I’dseenyou.”“Iftheyaskagain,lie.”Lisa laughed. “You can’t

avoid them forever. Mrs.Rhodes told me that shewants to takepicturesofyouandNormanforamemento.”

“Iknow.That’soneof thereasonsI’mavoidingthem.”“Grin and bear it.” Lisa

leanedcloserandloweredhervoice. “Doesn’t Herb lookhandsomeinhissuit?”Hannah glanced over at

Herb.HewaswearingablacksuitwithaWesterncutanditreminded her of somethingMarshal Dillon might haveworn at a fancy wedding onGunsmoke. It fit soperfectly,Herbcouldhavebeenoneof

themannequinsinthedisplaywindow of an old-fashionedmen’s clothing store. It wasquite a change from therumpled tan uniform that heusually wore. “He certainlydoes.”Just then a tall figure in

another impeccably cut suitcaughthereyeandHannah’seyebrows rose. “I don’tbelieve it! There’s BentonWoodley!”“TheWoodleys’son?”

“Yes. I thought the heirapparent was still back east,trying to buy his degree atsomeIvyLeagueschool.”Lisa stared at Hannah

curiously. “You sound likeyou don’t like him verymuch.”“I don’t. Or at least, I

didn’t.” Hannah sigheddeeplyassherememberedthebuckets of tears that Andreahad shed when Benton haddumpedher.“Andreausedto

date him when she was inhigh school. I wonder if sheknows that he cameback fortheparty.”“Maybe you should tell

her.Iknowthatshe’smarriednow, but it’s alwaysuncomfortable to run into anoldboyfriend.”“Goodidea.Haveyouseen

hertonight?”“She was over by the

buffet tables a couple ofminutesago.”

“Thanks,Lisa. I’ll seeyoulater.” Hannah stood up andwaited for a break in theconversation. When itarrived, she tapped Normanon the arm. “I have to findAndrea. Would you like tocomewithme?”“Sure.”Norman said goodbye to

Herb and Lisa and theystartedacrosstheroom.Theywere just crossing the spacethat would be used for

dancing,whenHannah heardsomeonecallhername.Hannah stopped in her

tracks and turned toward thewarm and friendly voice. ItwasBentonWoodley and hewassmilingather.“Who’s that?” Norman

glancedatBentonandthenheturned to regard hercuriously. “An oldboyfriend?”“Yes, but notmine. Come

on, Norman. I’ll introduce

you.”It only took a moment to

performtheintroductions.AsBentonchattedwithNorman,Hannah wondered if he’dgone to the same charmschoolashismother.Hewaspolite, he seemed interestedin hearing about Norman’spractice, and he told her thatshe looked ravishing. Thespoiled, know-it-all rich kidhad grown up to be theperfecthost.

“I’m glad to hear thatyou’vereopenedyourfather’spractice, Norman. One neverknows when one will needdental work.” Bentonsounded sincere and Hannahhad the urge to laugh. Shewas willing to bet that ifBenton ever needed dentalwork, he’d fly off to thefanciest, most expensivedentist in the country. “Andhowareyou,Hannah?”Hannah smiled her best

party smile. “Just fine,Benton. I haven’t seen youfor years. Are you just herefortheoccasion?”“No, Father’s been a bit

under the weather.” Bentonloweredhisvoiceandmovedastepcloser.“I’vecomebacktohelphimrunthebusiness.”Hannah remembered the

darkcirclesunderDel’seyes.Perhaps Benton was tellingthetruth.“Ihopeit’snothingserious.”

“No,it’sjustthathe’sbeenworking too hard. Now thatI’ve moved back home tolend a hand, he should befine.”“You’re staying here?”

Hannah was surprised. Sheseemed to remember thatBenton had hatedLakeEdenwhenhe’dlivedhere.“For a while. And it’s

wonderful to be back. I’vealways liked the ambiencehere, such a friendly, small-

town feel. And that remindsme,IranintoAndreaandherhusband a fewmoments agoandshementionedthatyou’dopened a business. It soundslike suchaquaint little shop.I’ll have to make a point ofdroppinginsoon.”Hannah bristled. Her

businesswasabusiness,nota“quaint little shop.”The tonein Benton’s voice suggestedthat it was something asocialitemightdoasahobby.

Hannahopenedhermouth totell him that she’d workedvery hard to make TheCookieJarprofitable,butsherememberedabouttactjustintime. “It’s beennice chattingwith you, Benton, but wehave to rush off to findMother.”Norman waited until they

wereseveralfeetaway.“Youwanttofindyourmother?”“Of course not. I just

wanted to get away from

Benton before I wrung hisneck.”Norman grinned. “ ‘A

quaintlittleshop’?”“You got it.” Hannah was

impressed. For a dentist,Normanwasquick.“Let’sgofindAndrea. I really need totalktoher.”They found Andrea and

Bill by the buffet tables, andfrom the satisfied look onBill’sface,Hannahsuspectedthathewasabouttoenjoyhis

second or third helping offood.“Hi, Hannah. Good to see

you, Norman,” Bill greetedthem.“Somespread,huh?”Hannah turned toNorman.

“WillyoukeepBillcompany,Norman?IreallyneedtotalktoAndreaforaminute.”Bill gave her a

conspiratorialsmile,andforamoment Hannah wasconfused. Then she realizedBill thought she was giving

him the opportunity to askNorman about Ron’s dentalvisit.Hannah took her sister’s

arm and led her away to arelativelyprivateplacebythesideof the room. “I’m sorry,Andrea. I cameover towarnyoutheminuteIsawBenton,butitwasalreadytoolate.”“Warnme?”“Yes.” Judging from the

puzzled expression on hersister’s face, Hannah knew

she’d better explain. “I justthought it might beuncomfortable foryou to runintoBentonagain.”Andrea stared at her for a

minuteandthenshebegantosmile.“Igetit.Thatwasniceof you, Hannah, but seeingBenton didn’t bother me atall.Igotoverhimagesago.”“Good! I never liked his

attitude and I still don’t. Doyou know that he calledTheCookie Jar ‘a quaint little

shop’?”Andrea sighed and shook

her head. “Don’t mindBenton. He was always asnob.Did he tell you that hecame back to help his fatheratDelRay?”“That’swhathesaid.”“Hetoldusthesamething,

but it was a lie. He wasflicking his fingernail withhisthumbwhenhesaidit.”“What?”“It’s something Benton

does when he’s lying,”Andrea explained. “I pickedup on that when we weredating and it came in handy.It’soneof thoseunconsciousgestures that people makewhen they’re trying to pullsomethingoveronyou.”“Did Benton tell you any

otherlies?”“Hetoldushewasgladto

be back home in Lake Edenandthathewasreallylookingforward to working at

DelRay.”“Andhewasflickingwhen

hesaidit?”“Click, click, click. The

only timehedidn’t flickwaswhen he said that I lookedravishing.”“You always look

ravishing.”Hannah smiled ather sister, but she thoughtbacktowhenBentonhadtoldherthesamething.Perhapsitwas a good thing she hadn’tknown about the fingernail-

flicking lie detector test untilnow. “Did he tell you howlonghe’dbeenintown?”“Bill asked him that.

Bentonsaidhe’dflowninonWednesday and taken theshuttlefromtheairport.”“Was he flicking then?”

Hannahwascurious.“I couldn’t see. He turned

toward Bill to answer him.Canwe talkaboutsomethingelse, Hannah? BentonWoodleyboresmetotears.”

“Sure.” Since Andrea wassoobservant,Hannahdecidedto ask her about DanielleWatson. “I talked to CoachWatson’swifeatthemayor’sfundraiser.Whatdoyouthinkofher?”“Danielle?”Andrea looked

thoughtful. “She seems niceenough, but I can’t helpfeelingsorryforher.”“Why?”“Because Boyd is such a

control freak. I’ve seen them

atparties andhedoesn’t liketo let her out of his sight. Itmust be stifling. I betDanielle has to ask hispermission before she canevengototheladies’room.”Hannah remembered how

Daniellehadwhisperedinherhusband’s ear right beforeshe’d lefthimat themayor’sfundraiser. “I think you’reright.”“I know I am. ThankGod

Bill’snotlikethat!”

“Would it work if hewere?”“Noway!”Andrealaughed

and thenshegestured towarda corner of the hugeballroom. “There’s Danielleover there. I guess Boyddoesn’t mind how much shespends on her clothes. She’swearingthepeachdressthatIsawatthemall,andIknowitcost over five hundreddollars.”“Where?” Hannah’s eyes

searchedthecrowd.“Right by that flowering

hibiscus tree. She’s standingthere with a perfectly politelittle smile on her face,waiting for Boyd to finishtalkingtoQueenJudith.”Hannahgrinned.Hersister

had started to call JudithWoodley “Queen Judith”rightaftershe’dbeguntodateBenton.“Iseeher.”“I really don’t understand

women like Danielle. She’s

got a great figure and shealways covers it up. EitherBoyd’s the jealous type, orshe’s really shy about herbody.”Hannah realized that her

sister was right. She’d neverseen Danielle wear anythingeven close to revealing.Tonight was no exception.The peach dress had longsleeves and a high mandarincollar. “Can you and Billkeep Norman amused for a

couple of minutes? I reallyneedtotalktoDanielle.”“All right. Just don’t take

too long. If Norman startstellingmethatIneedtohavemy teeth cleaned, I’m goingtorunforthehills.”“He won’t. Norman’s not

like that at all. He’s got agreat sense of humor. If youjust get to know him, you’lllikehim.”“Ifyousayso.”Andrea shrugged and

headed back to the tablewhile Hannahmade her waythrough the crowd towardDanielle. As Hannah movedcloser, she saw that CoachWatson was deep inconversation with JudithWoodley, and judging fromthe intense look on his face,Hannah figured that he wastrying todrumupadonationfornewteamuniforms.“I have to talk to you,

Danielle.” Hannah moved in

toclaimherbeforethecoachcould.“Let’sgototheladies’powderroom.”“ButI’mwaitingforBoyd.

He toldme tostay righthereandhe’llbeangry if Igooffwithout—”“It’s important, Danielle,”

Hannah interruptedher.“Justtellhimyouneed to fixyourfaceorsomething.”“Is there somethingwrong

withmyface?”“No,it’sfine.Ijustneedto

talk to you about a mutualfriend.”Daniellestaredatherfora

moment and then the lightdawned. “All right, Hannah.Just letme tellBoydand I’llberightwithyou.”Less than a minute later,

Hannah ledDanielle into theladies’powderroom.Shewasin luck. The large spacewasdeserted and she flipped thelock on the door. “I needmoreinformation,Danielle.”

“But I’ve told youeverything I know. Youshouldn’t lock the door,Hannah. What if someoneneedstogetin?”“They’llwait.Youtoldme

thatyouwerewithRonfromelevenuntil seven-twenty thenextmorning.”“That’s right. Iwas. I told

youthetruth.”“I’m sure you did, but I

needyoutothinkbacktothetimeyouspentwithRon.Did

youseeanyoneelse?Anyoneatall?”“No. All of his home

delivery customers were stillasleep and we didn’t meetanyone at the school. That’swhyIsaidI’dgoalong.Ronpromised that no one wouldseeme.”“Was there any time that

Ronwasoutofyoursight?”Danielle frowned as she

thoughtabout it.“Onlywhenhewas loading the truck,but

there wasn’t anybody elsearound.”“Then Ron didn’t meet

anyoneatall?”“No, I don’t think . . .”

Daniellestoppedandhereyeswidened. “Wait! After Ronloadedupforhiscommercialroute, he had to run backinside the dairy for anotherbox of pens with the CozyCow logo on them. He wasleavingthemwitheveryorderand it was some kind of

promotional thing. When hecame out, he said that Maxhad better get a move on orhe’d be late for theButtermakers’Convention.”“Then Ron saw Max?”

Hannah felt a prickle ofexcitement. “What time wasthat?”“Six-fifteen.Ronaskedme

tochecktomakesurehewason schedule. He was soorganized,Hannah.He...hehadeverythingworkedoutto

theminute sohewouldn’tb-belate.”Danielle’s voice quavered

and Hannah reached out topat her on the shoulder.Daniellecouldn’tbreakdownnow—there wasn’t time.“You’re helping a lot,Danielle.Ronwould be veryproudofyou.”“You’re right. I think he

would.”Danielle tookadeepbreath and let it out in aquiveringsigh.

“Do you know why Maxwasatthedairysoearly?”“He was meeting with

someoneinhisoffice.”“Max was in a meeting at

six-fifteeninthemorning?”“That’s what Ron said. I

don’t know who was withhim, Hannah. Ron didn’tsay.”Hannah drew a deep

breath. She wished she hadtime to think about how thisnew information fit into the

picture, but there would betime for that later. “Try toremember what everythinglookedlikeat thedairywhenRon drove in to reload thetruck.Didyouseeanycarsintheparkinglot?”“I know Ron’s car was

there. That’s where weparkedwhenwe got there atfour in the morning. I don’tknow about later, Hannah.The parking lot’s in the rear,behind the building. When

Roncamebacktoloadupforthe second time, he used thetruck road at the side.That’swheretheloadingdockis.”“Howaboutwhenyouleft?

Did you drive around thebuilding?”Danielle shook her head.

“There’s a turnaround on theside, and Ron used that.Wedidn’t drive past the parkinglotatall.”“Thanks, Danielle.”

Hannah walked over to

unlock the door. “You’vebeenveryhelpful.”Danielle gave Hannah a

timid little smile. “I feelreally bad that I didn’t askRonwhowaswithMaxinhisoffice.”“That’sokay.”“But it’s important, isn’t

it?”“It could be, but you had

nowayofknowing.Besides,wecanalwaysaskMax.”“That’s right.” Danielle

looked very relieved. “I’dbettergetback toBoyd.AndI suppose you need to getbacktoNorman.”After Danielle had left,

Hannah sat down on thecushioned bench in front ofthemirror and thought aboutwhat she’d learned. Ron hadseen Max at six-fifteen,meetingwith someone in hisoffice.Itcouldbesomething,or it could be nothing. Onlytimewouldtell.

ChapterSixteen

Hannah groaned as sheapproachedAndreaandBill’stable. Somehow Delores andCarrie had found them, andboth mothers were lookingimpatient. She felt liketurning around and going

back to the ladies’ powderroom, but her mother raisedher hand and wiggled herfingers.Itwastoolate.She’dbeenspotted.“There you are, dear!”

Delores gave her a widesmile. “We’re ready to takethepicturesnow.”“That’s just wonderful.”

Hannah’s reply soundedsarcastic, even to her ownears, and she smiled to takethe edge off her words. She

glancedatNorman.Hedidn’tlook at all upset about theupcoming photo session, butperhaps he was one of thoselucky people who werephotogenic.Hannahknewshewasn’t. No trick of the lightor instruction from thephotographer couldmakeherlookgoodonKodakpaper.The mothers led the way

across theroom.Norman leftHannah to take his mother’sarm, and Bill followed suit

with Delores. Hannah pulledAndreabackjustabitsothatshe could apologize. “I’msorry, Andrea. I didn’t meantobegonesolong.”“That’s okay. You were

right, Hannah. Some of thethingsthatNormansaidwerereallyfunny.Wewerehavingagoodtimeuntilthemothersfound us. They want us topose,too.”“Great.”Hannahwasmore

than happy to have company

inhermisery. “Maybeyou’llmake me look good byosmosisorsomething.”Andrea laughed. “Come

on, Hannah. You know youlook wonderful tonight. Thatdress is so perfect on you, iteven makes your hair looknice.”“Thanks . . . I think.”

Hannah grinned. Then sherealized that the motherbrigadewasturningdownthehallwaythatledtotheladies’

powder room. “Where aretheygoing?”“I’mnotsure.Mrs.Rhodes

said she found the perfectsetting for thepictures. I justhopewe’renotgoingtobargeinto someplace we shouldn’tbe.”The group stopped at the

endofthehallandwaitedforHannah and Andrea to catchup. Then Carrie opened adoorandusheredthemintoalarge room lined with

bookshelves.Itwasdoneinamasculine style, with leathercouches and armchairs, amassive wooden desk, andhunting prints on the walls.Therewasanincredibleriver-rock fireplace in the corner,and Hannah stared at it inawe.“This is Del Woodley’s

den,”Carrieannounced.“Should we be in here?”

Bill looked very uneasy. “Imean,it’snotoff-limitstothe

guests,isit?”Carrie shook her head. “I

askedhimandhesaid itwasperfectlyallright.”Hannah exchanged an

amused glance with Andrea.Norman’s mother was a lotlike Delores. Not only hadCarrie waltzed into LakeEden’s only formal affairwith her camera, she’d evenasked theirhost if theycoulduse one of his private roomstotakepictures.

“Stand over by thefireplace with Bill.” Deloresmotioned to Andrea. “We’lldoyoursfirst,justincaseBillgetscalledaway.”Hannah watched as her

sister posed with Bill. ThenCarrie decided that the twocouples should standtogether, and Hannah andNorman joined them. Theyarranged themselvesobediently—Hannah andAndrea in front,Normanand

Bill in back, while Carrieclicked away. Then she tookanotherserieswiththefourofthem lined up in a row likesoldiers, the “girls” in thecenter flanked by the two“boys.”“Let’s take a few on the

couch,” Delores suggested.“Thatalwayslooksnice.”Hannah suffered through

morephotos,wonderinghowsoonNorman’smotherwouldrun out of film. As soon as

thisordealwasover, shehadto pull Bill aside and bringhim up to speed. Bill wastracing Ron’s movements onthe morning of the murderandhe didn’t know thatRonhadgoneintothedairyatsix-fifteen and seenMax Turnerin his office. It might notrelate toRon’smurder at all,but it was a new piece ofinformation and Bill couldask Max about his early-morningmeeting.

“You look distracted,dear.” Delores waggled afingerather.“Concentrateonlooking pretty and saycheese.”“Gorgonzola,” Hannah

muttered under her breath,andAndreastartedtogiggle.“You’re moving, Andrea,”

Deloreswarned.“Carriecan’tfocusifyou’removing.”Hannahrolledhereyesjust

asNorman’smother snappedthe picture. Didn’t Delores

knowthatmostcameraswereauto-focus these days? If shehadtoendureanotherminuteof flashes and admonitionsabout smiling from hermother, she was going toexplodeinsheerfrustration.“We’d better take that one

again.” Delores turned toCarrie. “I think Hannahsquinted.”Just as Hannah was about

to rebel, Norman stood andheld up his hands. “That’s

enough, Mother. Sit on thecouchwithMrs.SwensenandI’lltakeacoupleofyou.”“Turnabout’s fair play,”

Hannahmurmured toAndreaas they stood off to the sideand watched Norman takepictures of their mothers.“Let’s tell Mother herlipstick’soncrooked.”Andrea looked horrified at

the thought. “Don’t! Thenshe’ll have to get out hermirror and fix it, and that’ll

takeevenlonger.”Hannahwasabouttopoint

out that they’d taken enoughpictures to paper the entireback wall in her shop, whenshe heard a low beepingnoise. She turned toBill andasked,“Isthatyourpager?”Bill retrieved his pager

from his pocket. He glancedat the display and frowned.“I’vegottocallin.”“Youdon’t have to go, do

you?” Andrea grabbed at his

sleeve. “We haven’t evendancedyet.”Billgaveheralittlehug.“I

know, but the dispatcherpunched in the emergencycode. Where’s the nearestphone?”“Right here.” Hannah

pointedtotheonenexttothecouch. “Go ahead, Bill. Wewant to know what’shappening.”Bill punched out the

number and talked to

someone at the sheriff’sstation.Hannahlistenedtohisend of the conversation, butOkay,rightaway,and I’lldothatdidn’ttellhermuch.“There’sabigaccidentout

on the interstate,” Billinformedthemashehungupthe phone. “They’re callingeveryonein.”“ShallItakeyou?”Andrea

offered.“No, you can stay. I’ll

catch a ride out with one of

the other guys.” Bill pattedher shoulder. “Have a goodtimeforme,okay?”Reading the glum

expression onAndrea’s face,Hannahdoubtedthatshewasgoing to have a good timewithout Bill, but her sisternodded. “Okay, honey. Becareful and I’ll see you athome.”After Bill left, they all

trooped back to the party.Hannah had seen Norman

rewind the film and drop itinto his pocket, and she wascurious. “Are you going toput thefilminthenightdropatthedrugstore,Norman?”“No.” Norman shook his

head. “I’ll develop it myselfwhen I get home. I justfinished setting up mydarkroom.”“You’reaphotographer?”“Just an amateur. I caught

thebugwhenIwasinSeattle.It’s a great hobby. I’ll bring

the prints byTheCookie Jaronmylunchbreak tomorrowsoyoucanseethem.”The orchestra was playing

bythetimetheyreenteredtheballroom, andNorman askedHannah to dance. Shecouldn’t refuse withoutseeming rude and Hannahfound herself sufferingthrough an agonizingly slowwaltz.Normanwas,atbest,atentative dancer and Hannahreallywantedtolead.Butshe

didn’twanttohurtNorman’sfeelingsandsheenduredtheirdance with a smile on herface.Whenthedancehadended,

Norman escorted her back toAndreaandtheirmothers.Asthey were standing theretalking,HannahspottedBettyJackson. She wanted to askBetty ifsheknewaboutMaxTurner’s early meeting, butBill wouldn’t like it if shedraggedNormanalong.

“Would you like to danceagain, Hannah?” Normanoffered,holdingouthisarm.Hannah tried not to flinch

at the thought. Therewas nowayshewantedtodancewithNorman again. She was justtrying to think of a tactfulexcuse when she had abrilliantidea.“Whydon’tyouask Andrea? I heard her tellBill that she wanted todance.”“Good idea.” Norman

turned to Andrea with asmile. “How about it,Andrea? Would you like todance?”Andrea shot Hannah a

wounded look as she dancedoffwithNorman,andHannahknew she’d have someexplaining todo.She’dpointout that dancing withNorman, no matter howpainful, was better thangetting stuck with themothers.

Bettywasstandingneartheorchestra, tappingher foot intime with the music. Shelooked as if she wanted todance, but it was doubtfulthat any of the local menwould ask her. Betty waswhatHannah and her friendsin high school had unkindlycalled “heavy-duty.” Sheweighed close to threehundred pounds and shewasn’t known for her graceon thedance floor.Hannah’s

fatherhadoncequippedthataman needed steel-toed bootstodancewithBetty,andmorethan one man in Lake Edenhad nursed an injured footafter an obligatory turnaroundthefloorwithher.As always, Betty was

dressed in vertical stripes.Someonemusthaveoncetoldher that they wereslenderizing and they mighthave been, for someone lessbulky. Betty’s stripes were

wide tonight, and they weredarkgreenandburgundy.Thecolors were pretty, but thatdidn’t stop Betty fromresembling the side of acircus tent. As she walkedcloser,Hannahmadeamentalvowtogoonadietandshedthe ten extra pounds she’dbeen carrying around sincelastChristmas.“Hi,Betty,”Hannahcalled

outacheerfulgreeting.Sincetherewasnooneelsearound,

itwasobviousthelocalmalesfeared for their insteps, andHannah knew she’d neverhave a better chance tointerview Betty about Max’smeeting.Betty reached out to pat

Hannah’s arm. “You lookgorgeoustonight,Hannah.”“Thanks.”Hannah knew it

was only polite to return thecompliment, but what couldshe say? Then she spottedBetty’sshoesandshehadher

answer. “Your shoes aregreat.Theymatchyourdressperfectly.”Betty smiled, apparently

satisfied. “Is there any newsaboutpoorRon?”“Nothing yet. I’m glad I

found you, Betty. I need totalktoyouaboutMax.”Betty swallowed and her

face turned pale. “I knew it!There’s something wrong,isn’tthere?”“Wrong?” Hannah was

puzzled. “Why do you thinkthere’ssomethingwrong?”“Max hasn’t called in yet

and that’snot likehimatall.He’s a very hands-onmanager. Last year he calledmethreetimesaday.”“There’s nothingwrong as

far as I know,” Hannahreassured her. “I justwondered if he knew aboutRon,that’sall.”Betty fannedher facewith

her hand. “You practically

gave me a heart attack. I’mprobably just imaginingthings,butit’sjustsostrangethat Max hasn’t called.Shirley, over at the MielkeWay Dairy, said Gary’scalledineverymorning.”“Did Gary mention seeing

Maxattheconvention?”“No.AndShirleycan’tcall

him to ask, because Garywon’t tell her where he’sstaying.” Betty’s facecrinkled in a huge smile and

she moved closer. “Gary’s abachelor and this is his bigchancetoliveitupalittle, ifyou know what I mean. Atleast that’s what Shirleythinks.”“Shirley’s probably right.

Do you think that Max isdoingthesamething?”“Max?” Betty looked

utterly astounded. “If youknewhimaswellasIdo,youwouldn’t even think it. Maxhasonlytwopleasuresinlife:

moneyandmoremoney.”Hannah gave the

appropriate laugh, eventhough she’d heard thatparticular comment aboutMax about a million timesbefore. “Did you know thatMax had an early-morningmeeting in his office onWednesday?”“He did?” Betty seemed

genuinely surprised. “But hewassupposedtoleaveatfive-thirty, and that’s awfully

early for ameeting.Are yousure?”“That’swhatIheard.”Bettythoughtaboutitfora

moment and then sheshrugged. “Anything’spossible, especially if it wasabout money. I know thatMax was in the office early.They asked him to give theopeningspeechandItypeditupforhimonTuesdaynight.IleftitonmydeskanditwasgonewhenIcameinthenext

morning.”“You’re sure that Max

pickeditup?”“I’m positive. He left a

yellow sticky, reminding metoordernewfilefolders.”Hannah decided not to tell

Betty thatMaxhadstillbeenat the dairy at six-fifteen. Itwouldonlyworryher.“Haveyou tried to call Max at theconvention?”“Of course I have. They

told me he wasn’t registered

at the Holiday Inn, but Ididn’t expect him to staythere.Max is very picky andhe just hated his room lastyear. Itwas right next to theicemachine.”“How about the other

hotelsintown?”“I tried them, but they all

sayhe’snotregistered.”“Could Max be sharing

someoneelse’sroom?”“Max?” Betty laughed so

hard,heramplebosomshook.

“Max isn’t the type to share.Healwaysstaysalone.”“Did you have him paged

ontheconventionfloor?”“Of course I did. They’re

having a big banquet tonightand I called before I lefthome.Maxdidn’tanswermypage.”Hannah began to frown as

an idea formed in her head.“Was Max driving toWisconsinalone?”“Yes. Gary Mielke asked

him to carpool, but Maxdidn’twant to ridewithhim.Andifyou’rethinkingthathewas in an accident, I alreadychecked with both highwaypatrolsandhewasn’t.Ireallyexpectedhimtocallinbeforenowandit’sgotmeworried.”Hannah was worried right

along with Betty, and shewonderedifMaxhadmadeittotheconventionatall.“Yousaid thatMax didn’t want toride with Gary Mielke. Do

youknowwhy?”“Yes,butIreallyshouldn’t

tellyou.”Bettybegantotwistthe handle of her burgundyclutch purse, a sure sign thatshewasuncomfortable.“It’s...uh...confidential.”“If you want me to try to

find Max for you, you’dbetter tell me. I promise Iwon’ttellanyoneelse.”“All right, Hannah.” Betty

twisted her purse handleagain, andHannahwondered

whether the thin strip ofleather would snap. “TheMielke Way is our biggestcompetitor and Max isworking on a way to takeoverGary’soperation.That’swhy he didn’t want to ridewithhim.”“Then Gary doesn’t know

aboutMax’splans?”Betty gave her a look that

had“idiot”writtenalloverit.“Max doesn’t let anybodyknow what’s going on until

it’s a done deal. That’s thewayheoperates.”“ButMaxtoldyou?”“Not exactly. I just

happened to pick up theextension in my office whenMaxwastalkingtosomeloancompanyaboutbuyingupthepaper on one of Gary’sloans.”Hannah didn’t believe that

Betty had just happened topick up the extension. Bettywas nosy and that was why

she was such a valuablecontact. “HasMaxeverdoneanythinglikethisbefore?”“Are you kidding? You

don’tgetasrichasMaxisbysellingcreamandbutter.”“How do you know for

sure?”“Youcan’tworkforaman

for twenty years withoutpicking up a word here andthere.Max is a regular sharkwhen it comes to buying upbusinesses, foreclosing

properties,andturningbigfatprofitsonthem.”Hannah was about to ask

another question when shesaw Andrea waving at her.She patted Betty on the armand made her excuses.“Andrea’swaitingformeandI’ve got to run. Thanks,Betty.”“But how about Max? Do

youthinkhe’sallright?”“I’ll find out,” Hannah

promised, and then she

quickly added up the newfacts she’d learned. Ron hadseen Max on Wednesdaymorning and now Ron wasdead.AndMaxwassupposedto be at the Buttermakers’Convention, but no one hadseenhimandhehadn’tcalledin. Had Max shot Ron andfled the country? It was adistinct possibility. It wasalso possible that Max waslying low at the conventionand he’d call Betty when all

the excitement had dieddown.IfMaxthoughthewassafe, he might even waltzback into townasbigasyoupleaseandactallshockedandsaddened about the horriblecrime that had cost Ron hislife.“What is it, Hannah?”

Bettylookedanxious.“I’mjustthinking.Whenis

Maxdueback?”“OnTuesdaynight.”If Max decided to call in,

Bettymighttellhimaboutthequestions she’d asked. Thatwouldalerthimandhe’dhopthe first plane out of thecountry. Hannah couldn’t letthat happen. Somehow, shehadtokeepBettysilent.“I just realized something,

Betty. You’d better notmention that you talked tome. If Max finds out thatwe’ve been discussing him,he’llgetreallyupset.”“That’strue,”Bettyagreed.

“If he calls in, don’tmentionthatI toldyouabouthis meeting. He’ll just thinkthat we were nosing into hispersonal life. I’m concernedforyourjob.”“You’re right, Hannah!”

Betty’s eyes widened. “MaxwouldfiremeifhethoughtIwas gossiping about him,evenifIwasn’t!”“Exactly. If anybody asks

you what we were talkingabouttonight,justsaythatwe

weremakingsmalltalkaboutthe buffet table. I’ll say thesamething.”“Thanks, Hannah.” Betty

looked very grateful. “I suredon’t want to risk my job. Ijust love it at the dairy. Mylips are sealed—you cancountonthat.”“Mine too.” Hannah

walked away, confident thatBetty wouldn’t repeat theirconversation. She’d alsodiscovered a wonderful new

tool for social intercourse. Itwas intimidation and itworked.AndifthegloweronAndrea’s face was anyindication,Hannahknewthatshe was in for a dose of itherself.Andrea sighed as they

walked down the halltogether.Shestilldidn’t lookhappy about being left todance with Norman for so

long, but when Hannah hadwhispered that she’d beendoing legwork for Bill,Andrea lightened up a little.“I still can’t believe that youstuck Norman with theHollenbecksisters.Youknowthey’regoingtochewhisearoff for at least fifteenminutes.”“That’swhat I’m counting

on. Norman said he wantedme to introduce him toprospective patients, and

Marguerite seemed reallyinterested inhavingher teethwhitened.Ifshedoesit,she’lltell all her friends at thechurchandthey’lldoit,too.”“Here’s the ladies’ room.”

Andreastoppedatthedoor.“I know, but that was just

anexcuse.Ineedyoutomakea phone call forme,Andrea.You’re a lot better at sweet-talkingpeoplethanIam.”“You can say that again!”

Andrea laughed and Hannah

couldtellthatthelastvestigeofherangerhaddisappeared.“WhoamIcalling?”“The Holiday Inn in Eau

Claire, Wisconsin. That’swhere they’re holding theTri-State Buttermakers’Convention.”“You want me to talk to

Max Turner?” Andreasounded very reluctant. “Idon’t think I should do that,Hannah.Bill hasn’t talked tohimyetandhedoesn’tknow

aboutRon.”“Idon’twantyoutotalkto

Max. Iwantyou togetGaryMielkefromtheMielkeWayDairy on the phone. I needsomeinformationfromhim.”Andrea looked dubious.

“DoesBillknowaboutthis?”“No. I just learned

something from Betty and Ihave to confirm it withGary.”“Butareyousupposedto .

. . I mean, shouldn’t Bill be

theoneto—”“Bill’snothereandIam,”

Hannahinterruptedher.“Thiscould be important, Andrea.It can’t wait for Bill to getbackfromtheaccidentscene.We’ll use the phone in DelWoodley’s den. That’sprivate, and God knows theWoodleys can afford onelong-distance call toWisconsin.”Andreathoughtaboutitfor

a minute. “Okay, I’ll do it.

Bill always says that I cansweet-talk anybody intoanything.”Hannah led theway to the

den and got Andrea settledbehind Del Woodley’s desk.Then she took a seat on thecouch and listened in awe asher sister charmed the deskclerk into leaving his post tosearch for Gary Mielke. Billwas right. Andrea could talkanyone into anything, andknowing that caused a heavy

load of guilt to drop fromHannah’s shoulders. BillmightwantAndreatoquitherjob, but her sisterwould justsweet-talkhimintolettinghergorightonsellingrealestate.

ChapterSeventeen

Hannahwasfrowningassheapproached the ballroomentrance with Andrea. Whatshe’d learned had confirmedher suspicions. Max Turnerwasn’t at the Buttermakers’Convention. He’d been

scheduledtogivetheopeningspeech, but he hadn’t shownupandGaryMielkehadfilledin for him. Gary had arrivedat the Holiday Inn onTuesday night to meet somefriends of his. They’d goneout toa latedinnerandspentthe night with some “otherfriends.” Hannah hadn’tasked whether those “otherfriends” had been male orfemale.Itdidn’treallymatter.The point was that Gary

Mielke had an alibi and hecouldn’thavehadanythingtodowithMax’sdisappearanceorRon’smurder.“Come on, Hannah.”

Andrea took her arm. “WehavetorescueNormanbeforethe Hollenbeck sisters drivehimcrazy.”“Iknow.IjustwishIcould

gohomeandthinkaboutthis.There’s something I’mmissing.”“Later. I’ll come over and

youcanrunyourtheoriespastme.Billwon’tbehomeuntillate,anyway.”“How do you know that?”

Hannah turned to her insurprise.“Reverend Knudson told

me.”“Howdoesheknow?”“SheriffGrantpagedhima

couple of minutes ago. Hesaid that some of the crashvictims needed spiritualcomfort.”

“Uh-oh.” Hannah winced.“They don’t bring in thereverend unless it’s reallybad.”“I know. Sheriff Grant

paged all three of them.ReverendKnudson isdrivingout there, andFatherCoultasandReverend Strandberg areridingwithhim.”Hannah figured it must be

a truly massive pileup. Itwould take a disaster of thatmagnitude to get all three

local clergy into a commoncar. Father Coultas hadn’tspokentoReverendKnudsonsince the Lutherans hadbeaten the Catholics atsoftball, and ReverendStrandberghadbeenprivatelydenounced by the other twoasaBible-thumpingzealot.They found Norman still

talking with the Hollenbecksisters.Hemotionedforthemtowaitforjustamomentandthen he turned back to

Marguerite. “I’ll see you atten tomorrow, MissHollenbeck.Iknowyou’llbepleased with the newtechnique. It’s completelypainless and you’ll walk outof the office looking sobeautiful, your own sisterwon’trecognizeyou.”Hannah waited until they

had walked away and thenturnedtoNorman.“Yourownsisterwon’trecognizeyou?”“Okay.MaybeIwaslaying

itonalittlethick,butIknowshe’ll be happy. Say, howaboutcominginfor—”“Forget it, Norman,”

Hannah interrupted him. “Iknow you’re in recruitinggear,butdon’teventry.Howabouthittingthebuffettablesbefore they pack up thefood?”Andrea,catchingHannah’s

attempt tochange thesubjectfrom dentistry to food,agreed. “Good idea. I had a

bitewithBill,butI’mhungryagain.”Norman took Hannah’s

arm. “That’s fine with me.Mymother’sonahealthkickand she doesn’t cookanything except chicken andfish. If I don’t get some redmeat soon, I’mgoing to loseevery ounce of my fabulousmuscles.”Andreaburstintodelighted

laughter and then she tookNorman’s other arm. “You

know,I’mreallybeginningtolikeyou,Norman.”“That’swhat theyallsay.”

Normanlookedsmug.“Itendtogrowonpeople.”“Likemold?”bothHannah

and Andrea asked in unisonand then broke into laughterwithNorman.AsHannah filled her plate

from the array of food, shemulled over the new factsshe’d learned tonight. GaryMielke had told her that

deliveringtheopeningspeechwas an honor and there wasnowaythatMaxwouldhavewillinglymissed it.Garyhadalsotoldherthathe’dlookedfor Max when he’d noticedthat his convention pass wasstillbehindthecounterat thehospitalitybooth.Sinceitwasimpossible to get into any ofthemeetingswithout it, he’dassumedthatMaxwasillandhadn’tbeenabletocome.Hannah followed Norman

and Andrea to a table andbegan to eat her food.Whilesheate,shethoughtabouttheevents that had occurred onthe morning that Ron hadbeenshot.RonhadseenMaxin a meeting at six-fifteen.He’d even mentioned it toDanielle.Butthatwasthelasttime anyone had spotted theowner of the Cozy CowDairy.Sheneededtofindoutwho had been meeting withMax, but that seemed

impossible.Andrea and Norman were

carryingonaconversationasthey ate, but Hannah wassilent. She was too busythinking about where Maxmight have gone. She reallydidn’t know much about hisprivate life and she wasn’teven sure if he had anyfriends. She’d have toremember to askBetty aboutthat.Hannahfinishedeatingand

dabbed at her lips with anapkin. She glanced down atherplateandwassurprisedtofind that she’d eaten everymorsel.“You must have liked the

cod in aspic,” Andreacommented, noticingHannah’semptyplate.“That was cod?” Hannah

made a face. She’d neverliked cod and she despisedtomato-based aspic. “Ithought it was a Jell-O

mold!”Norman lookedconcerned.

“You seem preoccupied,Hannah. Is there somethingwrong?”“No, not really.” Hannah

knew she had to think ofsome explanation. She didn’twant Norman to think thatshe wasn’t enjoying hiscompany.“Iwasjustthinkingabout Max. I really need totalktohim.”“Max Turner?” Norman

stared at her in alarm.“Whatever you do, don’t getinvolved in any businessdealingswiththatman!”“Why?” Hannah was

puzzled by the angry note inNorman’svoice.“He’ll eat you alive! I

could tell you stories about—” Norman stopped, andlooked embarrassed. “Sorry.It’swaterover thedamnow,but I still see redwhenever Ihearthatman’sname.”

Hannah reached out totouchNorman’ssleeve.“Tellusaboutit,Norman.”“Myfatherborrowedsome

moneyfromMaxTurneranditwas the biggestmistake ofhis life. He’d only been inbusiness for a couple ofmonths and he needed to setup his second examiningroom. Dental equipment isvery expensive and he didn’thavethemoneyforit.”“Whydidn’tyourfathergo

to the bank for a businessloan?”Andreaasked.“Hedid, but they toldhim

that he hadn’t been inbusiness long enough toestablish an earnings basis.Max Turner offered to takemy parents’ house forcollateral,eventhoughthey’djustbought itand theydidn’thaveanyequity.Hetoldthemthat all they had to do wasconvert their mortgage tofifteen years andmake every

house payment. He evenoffered an interest-only loanon the money for theequipment,withpaymentsonthe principal whenever theyhadagoodmonth.”Andrea winced. “Uh-oh. I

knowsomethingabout loans,and that’s too good to betrue.”“It was, but my parents

didn’t know that. My fatherbelieved Max when he saidhe wanted to encourage new

business in Lake Eden andthe town really neededanotherdentist.”“Whathappened?”Hannah

asked, even though sheguessed how this story wasgoing to turn out. Betty hadsaidthatMaxwasashark.“Max waited until my

parents were only a yearaway from paying off theirhouse. Then he called in thefullamountoftheloan.”“Is that legal?” Hannah

asked.“Yes. There was a clause

thatentitledMaxtocallinhisloanearly.Andsinceitwasapersonal loan, ordinaryregulationsdidn’tapply.”“That’s terrible, Norman.”

Andrea looked verysympathetic. “But yourmother still owns the house,doesn’tshe?”“Yes. Dad called me in a

panic and told me that theycould lose their house and

theirbusiness. IwasworkingatabigdentalclinicinSeattleatthetime,andImanagedtoget a loan throughmy creditunion. I wired them themoneyandtheypaidMaxoffjust a day before thedeadline.”Hannah felt sick. Shark

wastootameawordforMaxTurner. It made her wonderhow many other Lake Edenresidents Max had nearlyruined.Shehadafeelingthat

all this somehow related toRon’s murder, but shecouldn’tquitefigureouthowthepiecesfittogether.“Youwon’tmentionthisto

anyone, will you?” Normanasked. “Mother’s stillembarrassed about it. She’ddie if anyone found out thattheyweresonaïve.”“We won’t mention it,”

Hannah promised. “It’s overnow. Nobody needs toknow.”

Norman lookedrelievedashestoodupandpushedbackhis chair. “If you’ll excuseme, I’d better dance withMother. She made mepromise. And just becauseI’m such a nice guy, I’lldancewithyourmother,too.”“Norman?”Hannahgotup

and took his arm. “Wouldyou be terribly disappointedif I left now? There’ssomethingIhavetodoanditcan’t wait. You can stay.

Andreawilldriveme.”“Okay.” Norman didn’t

look crushed withdisappointment, and thatmadeHannah’sego twingeabit. “Is it something aboutRon’smurder?”heasked.“Yes.I’msorry,butIcan’t

tellyouanymorethanthat.”“Go ahead, Hannah, but

we’d better think up a reallygoodexcuseforourmothers.SomehowIdon’tthinkthataheadachewilldoit.”

“How about a migraine?”Andrea suggested. “Amigraine’salwaysworkedforme.”Hannahshookherhead.“I

don’t get migraines, andMotherknowsit.”“No, but I do.” Andrea

turned to Norman. “Just tellourmothersthatIwasinsuchbad shape, I begged Hannahto drive me home and staywithmeuntilBillgotback.”“That should work,”

Norman said. “But what ifshe calls you and you’re notthere?”“No problem.” Andrea

looked triumphant. “Motherknows I always turn off thephone when I have amigraine. I told her that Icouldn’tstandtheringing.”Norman patted Andrea on

theback.“Verysmart.Ithinkyou’re covered. I’ll go findthemothersandtellthem.”“Norman?” Hannah

rememberedhermannersjustin time. “Thank you for alovely evening. I had awonderfultime.”“Me too. You’d better

move it, Hannah. And takeAndrea’s arm and pretendyou’rehelpingherwalk.Herecome the mothers and theylookloadedforbear.”Andrea climbed in behind

the wheel and they drove

down the long, windingdriveway.Whentheyreachedthe bottom, she turned toHannah. “Where are wegoing?”“To my place. You can

dropmeoffthere.”“Drop you off?” Andrea

slammed on the brakes andthey skidded to a stop at thebase of the driveway. “Whatdoyoumean,dropyouoff?”Hannah sighed. She was

theonewho’dgottenAndrea

interestedinBill’scaseinthefirst place and she shouldhaveknown that therewouldbe trouble. “I have to dosomething and it could bedangerous.Idon’twanttogetyouintrouble.”“Butyoudon’t care ifyou

getintotrouble?”“Of course I care. I’ll be

verycareful.Butyou’vegotahusbandandadaughter.Youhavetothinkofthem.”“Iamthinkingofthemand

I’m going along.” Andreaglared at her. “We’re talkingabout Bill’s promotion here.If there’s anyway that I canhelp,I’mgoingtodoit.”“But,Andrea...youknow

thatBillwould—”“Letme takecareofBill,”

Andrea interrupted her.“Where are we going,anyway?”Hannah sighed and caved

in.TherewasnodealingwithAndreawhenshegotabeein

her bonnet, and this beewasas big as a buzzard. “Firstwe’re switching to mySuburban. I’ve got two ofthose big flashlights in theback. Then we’re driving toMaxTurner’shouse.”“Whyarewegoingthere?”“BecauseMaxdidn’tleave

for the convention when hewas supposed to leave. Hewas still in his office at six-fifteen,havingameetingwithsomeone.Ronsawthem.”

“So?”“So Max doesn’t have an

alibi for the time of Ron’sdeath. We know he’s not atthe convention and no one’sseen him since six-fifteen onWednesdaymorning.”“I get it. You think that

Max killed Ron and then hetookoff.ButwhywouldMaxkillRon?”“ThinkaboutwhatNorman

just toldusandyou’llhaveapossiblemotive.”

Andrea was silent for amoment. “I got it.You thinkthat Ron overheard Maxmaking some kind of shadybusiness deal? And Maxfollowed Ron on his routeand killed him so that hecouldn’t tell anyone about it.But how do you know thatRonsawMax?”Hannah frowned. She

should have known thatAndreawasgoingtoaskthat.“Mysnitchtoldme.”

“Yoursnitch?”“Actually, she’smore of a

witness.Thewomanwiththepinklipsticktoldmeaboutit.She didn’t see Max or theother person, but when Roncamebackouttohistruck,hetold her thatMaxwas in hisoffice, meeting withsomeone.”Andrea stared out through

the windshield for a longmoment and then turned toHannah with a frown.

“There’s something I don’tunderstand.Normansaid thatwhatMaxdidwaslegal.Whywould Max kill Ron if hisbusinessdealswerelegal?”“I don’t know,” Hannah

admitted. “All I do know isthat I have to check outMax’shouse.”Andrea put theVolvo into

gear. “You’re absolutelyright.Yourplacefirst?”“That’sright.”They started off for

Hannah’s condo complex.They’donlydrivenamileorso when Andrea started tolaugh.“What’s so funny?”

Hannahasked.“You.CheckingoutMax’s

house won’t be dangerous atall. Max isn’t stupid. If hekilled Ron he wouldn’t holeup there, just waiting forsomeone to put the piecestogetherandarresthim.”“That’strue.”

Andrea took her eyes offthe road to shoot her acurious glance. “Then whydid you tell me that it couldbedangerous?”“BecauseMax’shousewill

be locked up tight, and Billmight just kill both of us ifwe get arrested for breakingandentering.”

ChapterEighteen

Hannah turned off thehighway and onto the accessroad that ran past the CozyCow Dairy. The hugecinderblock building wasdeserted this time of nightanditswhitepaintgleamedin

the thousand-watt glow fromthe security lights that hadbeen installed on polesaround the perimeter. Thesecurity lights weren’t reallynecessary. No thief in hisrightmindwouldbreakintoadairy to stealbutterorcreamvats, but Hannah supposedthat Max had gotten a breakon his insurance by lightingtheplaceup.“It’s creepy out here at

night.” Andrea’s voice was

shaking slightly and Hannahsuspected her sister washavingsecondthoughtsaboutdemanding to come along.“Doesn’t Max have a nightshift?”“No.There’snothingtodo

until the tanker trucks comein from the farms in themorning. Except for hisdeliverymen, nobody comesinuntilseven-thirty.”“I feel silly, dressed like

this.” Andrea glanced down

at the black pulloversweatshirt and jeans thatHannah had insisted shewear.“Yourjeansaretoobigforme. I had to roll the legsup three times and pin thematthewaist.Andthishoodedsweatshirtsmellslikeitcameout of a trash bin. Why didwe have to dress up like acouple of cat burglars,anyway? Max’s house is atleast a half-mile from theroad. There’s no way that

anyonewillspotus.”“Sorry, Andrea. My

wardrobeisn’tasextensiveasyours. That’s all I had thatwould almost fit you, and Ididn’t think you wanted towearyourpartydress.”Andrealetherbreathoutin

a long sigh. “You’re right.I’mjustalittlenervous,that’sall.IkeepthinkingabouthowmadBill’s going to be ifwegetcaught.”“We won’t. I told you

before,ifwehavetobreakin,I’lldoit.Andifworsecomestoworst,youcantellhimthatyou tried to stop me, but Iwouldn’tlisten.”“That’llgooverlikealead

balloon.” Andrea sighedagain,andthenshewincedastheybumpedoverarutintheroad.“WithallMax’smoney,you’d think he’d have hisdriveway graded once in awhile.”They rode in silence for

anotherminuteorso.AstheynearedMax’s house,Hannahcut her lights and drove therestofthewaybymoonlight.“He must be gone. There

aren’t any lights,” Andreawhispered as Hannah pulledup in front of Max’s garageand shut off the engine. “Itold you Max wouldn’t behome.”“Ididn’t reallyexpecthim

to be, but I’m going to ringthedoorbell,justincase.”

“What if someoneanswers?” Andrea soundedscared.“Who?”Andrea shivered. “I don’t

know.Justsomeone.”“Then I’ll think of

something to say.” Hannahgot out of her Suburban andmarched up to the doorbell,wishingshewereasconfidentas she’d sounded. If Maxanswered the door, she’dhave some tall explaining to

do. But Max didn’t answerand Hannah walked backwith a smile on her face.“Nobody’s there. Come on,Andrea. Let’s check out hisgarage.Wecanpeek throughthewindows.”“How?”Andreagotoutof

the Suburban to stare up atthehighnarrowwindowsthatraninastripacrossthetopofthegaragedoor.“They’retoohighforustoseein.”“No problem.” Hannah

climbeduponthehoodofherSuburban and motioned forAndrea to hand her aflashlight. She directed thepowerful beam through thenarrow strip ofwindows andwhat she sawmade her gaspinsurprise.“What is it?” Andrea

whispered. “What’s in there,Hannah?”Hannah climbed down,

tryingnot to lookasshockedasshefelt.“Max’scarisstill

there.”“Ifhiscaristhere,he’sgot

to be home!”Andreawas soastonished, she forgot towhisper. “Let’s get out ofhere,Hannah!”Hannah’s instinct to flee

was every bit as powerful asher sister’s, but her sense ofduty took over. “We can’tjustleave.IfMaxisinside,hecouldbesick,orinjured,or...evenworse.”Andrea gasped, and

Hannah knew she’dunderstood the reference to“evenworse.”“Don’t be a fool, Hannah.

Let’sgogetBill.”“You go. The keys are in

the ignition. I’m going in tocheckonMax.”“B-But...”Andreastarted

to stammer, and Hannahknewshewasscaredspitless.“Ican’tleaveyouherealone,Hannah.WhatifMaxisdeadandhiskillerisinside?”

“IfMax is dead, his killeris long gone. Be reasonable,Andrea. If you killedsomeone, would you stay inthe house with him for twowholedays?”“No,” Andrea admitted.

“But I just can’t help feelingthat something really bad isgoing to happen. RememberCharlieManson?”“That was California. Just

stayhereandbealookoutforme.Ifyouseeanyheadlights

coming down the driveway,ringMax’sdoorbell.”“No way, Hannah. I don’t

wanttosayherealone.”“Then come with me.”

Hannah knew they werewastingprecioustime.“Makeup your mind, Andrea. I’mgoingin.”“I’ll come with you. It’s

better than staying out herebymyself.Howarewegoingtogetin?”“I don’t know yet.”

Hannah stepped back tosurvey the house. Therewasn’t any easy way inside.“IguessI’mgoingtohavetobreakawindow.”“Don’t do that. Bill says

lots of people leave the doorthat connects their garage totheir house open and that’show burglars get in. MaybeMaxlefthisunlocked.”“That’s great, but how are

we going to get in Max’sgarage without a clicker?

He’sgotanautomaticgarage-door opener. I saw thehardware when I lookedinside.”“I know how.” Andrea

sounded very proud ofherself. “IwatchedBill do itonce,whenourclickerdidn’twork. He pulled up reallyhardonthedoorhandleanditslid up a couple of inches,justenough forme towigglethrough. I thinkwe could doitifwelifttogether.”

“It’sworthatry.Let’sfindsomething to prop it openafterweliftit.”“How about those boxes?”

Andreapointed to thepileofold-fashioned wooden milkboxesthatwerestackedatthesideofMax’sdriveway.“They’ll do.” Hannah

walkedovertoretrieveamilkbox.Shepositioneditnexttoherfootandthenshegraspedthehandleofthegaragedoor.“Comeoverhereandhelpme

lift.Ifwecangetitopen,I’llkick themilkboxunderwithmyfoot.”Ittookacoupleoftries,but

theymanaged to lift thedooralmost a foot. Hannahproppeditopenwiththemilkbox and stepped back toeyeball the opening. “It’spretty small. I don’t think Icangetunderthere.”“I can.” Andrea sounded

frightened, but she managedto give Hannah a grin. “I’m

onlyasizefive.Justhandmea flashlight when I getinside.”Hannah watched as her

sister stretched out on thedrivewayat thecornerof thedoor,where the openingwaslarger, and began to wigglethrough. Andrea hadn’twanted to break in, but hereshe was, inching her wayinsidethedarkgarage.“Okay, I’m in.” Andrea

stuck her hand out of the

opening. “Give me theflashlight.”Hannah handed her the

flashlight and watched thelight grow fainter as Andreamoveddeeperintothegarage.A few moments later, thegarage door slid smoothlyopen and Hannah steppedinside.“Hannah?” Andrea

motioned her over to Max’scar with the beam of herflashlight. “I think you’d

betterlookatthis.”For a minute Hannah

didn’t know what her sisterwastalkingabout.Max’snewCadillac looked perfectly allright to her. But then shenoticed that there was a see-throughgarmentbaghangingon the hook in the backseat.Two suitcases were standingnear the truck, as if someonehad planned to stow theminside later, and a briefcasesat open on the passenger

seat.“Maxwaspackinghiscar,

but he didn’t finish.”Andreagesturedtowardthesuitcases.“Because something or

somebody stopped him,”Hannah stated the obviousconclusion.Maxhadintendedto go to the Buttermakers’Convention. His suits werehanging in the garment bag,his suitcases were ready tostash in the trunk, and hisbriefcase was on the seat.

“Turn on the garage light,Andrea.”Once the garage was

flooded with light, Hannahwalked around the Cadillacand opened the passengerdoor. She glanced down atMax’s briefcase and took adeep breath. Max’s walletwas inside and she picked itup.“Do you really think you

should snoop through hispersonalthings?”

Hannah turned to give hersister a long, level look.“Why not? It didn’t seem tobother you in Norman’soffice.”Andrea’s cheeks turned a

dull red and she snapped hermouth shut. She didn’t say aword as Hannah opened thewallet and counted the billsinside.“Twelve hundred in cash,

his driver’s license, and afolder of credit cards,”

Hannahreported.“ThenMaxdidn’tkillRon

and run away.” Andreasoundedvery sure of herself.“Hemighthaveleftthecreditcardsandhisdriver’slicense,especially ifhewasafraidofbeing traced. But the cash?He would have taken thecash.”“You’re right.” Hannah

flipped through the papers inthe briefcase and pulled outan agenda for the Tri-State

Buttermakers’Convention.Aline was highlighted inyellow and it read: OpeningAddressbyMaxwellTurner—10A.M.“Lookatthis,Andrea.”Andrea stared at the

highlighted line.“ThespeechMaxdidn’tgive.”“I wonder where it is.”

Hannah began to frown.“Betty said she worked lateTuesday night, typing it up.She left it on her desk for

Max, and it was gone whenshe came in to work onWednesdaymorning.”Andrea looked puzzled.

“It’snotinMax’sbriefcase?”“No. Let’s check out the

house.”Andrealookedasifthelast

thing she wanted to do wasgointoMax’shouse.“Dowehaveto?”“I think we do. Max may

have left something behindthat’llgiveusacluetowhere

heis.”“Okay,”Andreareluctantly

agreed. “Do you think weshould arm ourselves, just incase?”“Good idea.” Hannah

grabbedaclawhammerfromthe workbench by the doorand handed Andrea a rubbermallet. A hammer and amallet were no match for akillerwithagun,butshewasalmost positive that no onewas inside. If arming

themselves with carpenter’stoolsmadeAndreafeelsafer,thatwasfinewithHannah.Hannah tried to turn the

knobon theconnectingdoor,but it wouldn’t budge. “Oh,great!Maxdid lockhisdoor.See if his keys are in hisCadillac, will you? I think Inoticedthemintheignition.”Andreahurriedbacktothe

Cadillac and came backwiththekeys.ShehandedthemtoHannah and watched as her

sisterunlockedthedoor.Hannah stepped into the

kitchen, flicked on the light,and jumped slightly as therefrigerator kicked in. “Nicekitchen. I guess Max had athingforcows.”Every roundhandleon the

row of kitchen cabinets waspaintedwith black andwhitepatches like a Holstein cow.There was a collection ofchina cows in various poseson the shelves of the

greenhouse window over thesink,andalargepaintedplatewith frolicking cows aroundthe border hung over thestove. There were cowmagnets on the refrigeratordoor, a cow creamer andsugarbowlonthetable,andacow cookie jar sitting on thecounter. A farm dog wouldhave gone crazy in Max’skitchen,tryingtoroundupallthecows.“It’s a little much for my

taste,”Andrea admitted, “butI guess Max had to dosomething with all the cowthings that people gave him.That’s the trouble withcollections. Once peopleknow you’re collectingsomething,theygiveittoyouforeveryoccasion.”There was a strange

burning odor in the kitchenand Hannah noticed that thered lightwas glowingon thecoffeemaker.Shereachedout

toshutitoffandrealizedthatthe pot was dry, just inkysludge that once had beencoffee in the bottom. “Maxleftthecoffeeon.”“Don’t run water in it,”

Andrea warned. “I did thatonceandthecarafecracked.”Hannahsettheglasspoton

oneofMax’sburnerstocool.Then she noticed a thermosonthecounter,rightnexttoadishtowelwithhappy-lookingbovines grazing across its

green terrycloth surface. Thethermos was empty and itscapwasoff.“Maxmusthaveplanned to come back here.He made a pot of coffee sothathecouldfillhisthermos.Heprobablywantedtotakeitwithhimforthedrive.”Andrea looked sick as she

stared at the empty thermos,and Hannah knew she wasthinking about what mighthave happened to Max. Shegrabbed her sister’s arm and

propelled her past thecabinets with their cow-painted knobs and into thedesertedlivingroom.Hannah flicked on the

lights, but there was no signthat anyone had been heresince Max had left earlyWednesday morning. Sheglanced at her sister—thatsicklookwasstillonherface—and decided that she’dbetter do something fast.Andrea’s face was pale, her

knees were shaking, and shelookedasifshemightfaint.“Andrea? I need you to

help me out here,” Hannahordered in the same tone ofvoice that Delores had usedwhenshe’dtoldthemtocleantheir rooms. “Have you everbeeninMax’shousebefore?”Andrea blinked once,

twice, and then she turned toHannah. She lookeddisoriented and more than alittle frightened. “What did

yousay?”“Have you ever been in

Max’shousebefore?”Andrea nodded. A little

colorwas beginning to comeback to her cheeks, now thatHannah had given hersomething else to focus on.“Al sent me out with somepapers last fall. Max boughtsome property over inBrowerville and Al handledthepaperworkforhim.”“Can you remember what

thehouselookedlikethen?”“OfcourseIcan.I’mareal

estate agent.”Andrea’svoicewaslesstentative.“Maxevengave me a tour. It was rightafter he fixed it up and Iwantedtoseeit.I thoughthemight want to put it up forsale later on and move to abiggerplaceintown.”Hannah smiled and patted

herontheshoulder.“IknewIcouldcountonyou.Justkeepyour eyes open for anything

that looks out of place.Howaboutthisroom?Doesitlookthesameasitdidthen?”Andrea looked around.

“Everything’s the same,exceptforthecouch.Heusedtohaveablackonewithcowpillows on it. See thatpainting up there over thefireplace?Hetoldmethathismotherpainteditfromanoldphotograph. That’s Max’sgrandfather standing in frontoftheoriginaldairy.”

“I didn’t know thatMax’smother was an artist.”Hannahstaredatthepainting.Itwasn’tverygood.“Obviously, she wasn’t.”

Andrea recovered enough tosmile.“It’sfromoneofthoseoriginal paint-by-the-numbersets. They were very big inthe fifties. Shemailed in thephotograph and they sentback the canvas with littlenumbers in the spaces soshe’dknowwhatcolortouse.

IhadallIcoulddonottotellMaxhowbaditwas.”Now that Hannah had

moved closer, she could seesomeofthenumbersshowingthrough the paint and shedoubted that Max’sgrandfather had sported aseventeen tattooed on hisforehead. “Let’s go throughthe other rooms. Tell me ifyou see anything that youdon’tremember.”With Andrea following,

Hannah stepped briskly outinto the hallway and theyproceeded to go throughevery room in the house.Andrea pointed out newcurtains in theden,a slightlydifferent furniturearrangement in Max’s homeoffice, and newwallpaper inthe dining room. Max’sbedroom had been paintedsince Andrea had seen it.He’d changed the colorscheme from blue to green,

and theguestbedroomhadanewbraidedrugonthefloor.Every room had at least onecowinsomeshapeorform.“How can you remember

whateverythinglookedlike?”Hannah asked. She wasamazed at the amount ofinformation Andrea hadremembered from a singletourofMax’shouse.Andreashruggedmodestly.

“I’vealwayshadagoodeye.That’swhy Icould tellwhen

Motherhadbeeninmyroom.If one tiny thing had beenmoved,Inoticedit.”“And there isn’t one tiny

thing out of place in Max’shouse?” Hannah kept talkingastheymadeafullcircleandapproachedthekitchenagain.She didn’t want Andrea tothink about whatmight havehappenedtoMax.“NotthatIcansee,except.

. .” Andrea stopped by theconnecting door that led to

thegarage and reachedup totouch an empty hook by theside of the doorframe. “Waita minute, Hannah. There’ssupposed to be a key righthere.”“Whatkindofakey?”Andreaclosedhereyesfor

a moment and then theysnappedopenagain.“Ashinybluemetalkeyonacowkeychain. It was hanging righthere when Max showed mehis kitchen. The cow was

really cute, brown andwhitewithalittle—”“Do you know what the

key was for?” Hannahinterrupted her sister’sdescription.“The dairy. Max said he

used it when he walked towork and he didn’t want tocarry hiswhole key ring.Hetold me he just grabbed thatkey and his garage-dooropener and—” Andreastopped speaking and turned

to Hannah. “That must bewhat he did on Wednesdaymorning! When I went backto his car to get the keys, Inoticed that his garage-dooropener wasn’t clipped to thevisor.”“I think you’re right.Max

started to pack his carWednesday morning, but hedidn’t have time to finishbefore his meeting. He lefthisbriefcaseopenbecauseheneeded topickup the speech

thatBettytypedup.Whenhismeetingwasover,heplannedto come back here and leavefor the convention. ButMaxdidn’t come back. The lasttimeanyonesawhimhewasin his office at Cozy Cow.Histrailendsatthedairy.”Andrea winced. “I hope

you’renotgoingtosaywhatIthinkyou’regoingtosay.”“I am.” Hannah closed up

the garage and ushered hersister out Max’s front door.

“We don’t have a choice.We’ve got to check out thedairy.”

ChapterNineteen

Hannah started herSuburban,reachedforthebagofcookiesshealwayscarriedin the back, and tossed themto Andrea. “Have a cookie.You need some chocolate.It’llmakeyoufeelbetter.”

“I don’t need chocolate.What I need is a shrink! Itwould take a psychiatrist tofigure outwhy I ever agreedto this harebrained, idioticidea of yours to . . . to—”Andreastoppedspeaking,toorattled to go on. Then shereached into the bag, pulledout a cookie, and bit into itsavagely. She chewed,swallowed, and then shesighed. “These are reallygood,Hannah.”

“They’recalledChocolate-Covered Cherry Delights.Mother gaveme the idea forthe recipe when she told mehow Dad used to alwaysbring her chocolate-coveredcherries whenever she wasmadathim.”Andrea reached into the

bag for another and took ahuge bite. “Are youabsolutelysureweneedtogoinsidethedairy?”“I’m sure.”Hannah turned

at the end of Max’s accessroad and into the Cozy Cowparkinglot.“We can’t just try to call

Billfirst?”“He’s got his hands full,”

Hannah answered. Sheparked in the darkest cornerof the lot and turned to hersister. Andrea looked a lotbetter and her hands weren’tshaking anymore. “Relax,Andrea.Max isn’t inside.Hecouldn’t be. Betty or one of

the other employees wouldhave found him by now. Allwe’regoing todo is look forcluesinhisoffice.”“That’s true.” Andrea

managedashakysmile.“Then you’re coming in

withme?”“I’mcertainlynotgoingto

sit in the parking lot alone,notwithakillerontheloose!And it’s not like we’reactually breaking in oranything. You’ve got Max’s

keys.”“Right.”Hannahknewthat

thiswasn’tthetimetoremindAndrea that they’d brokeninto Max’s garage to getthose keys. “Grab theflashlights. I don’t want toturn on any lights inside.Someone might see themfromtheroad.”Andrea reached into the

back for the flashlights.“You’re going to owe me awhole batch of cookies for

this, Hannah. I’ll take theChocolate-Covered CherryDelights.”“Deal.” Hannah grabbed

her flashlight from Andrea’shandandgotoutofthetruck.The temperaturehaddroppedin the past hour and sheshivered as they walkedacross the parking lot to therear door. She glanced downat the keys in the glare fromthesecuritylightsandblessedMax for labeling them. She

selected the one marked“Rear Door,” and was aboutto insert it in the lock whenAndreagasped.“What?”Hannah turned to

lookathersister.“I just thought of

something.What if the dairyhas a security system? Wecouldsetitoff.”“Are you kidding? A

security system for a placethisbigwould cost abundle.DoyoureallythinkthatMax

would spend that kind ofmoney?”“No, maybe not.” Andrea

breathed an audible sigh ofrelief. “Go ahead,Hannah. Itwasjustathought,that’sall.”Hannahdidn’tmentionthat

she’d thought of the samething. She’d even glanced atMax’s birth date on hisdriver’slicense.Iftherewasakeypad by the inside of therear door, she planned toenter thenumbers two, three,

and forty-nine. She’d readsomewhere that most peopleused their birth dates as acode for their securitysystems. If bells started toclang and sirens began towail,they’dhightailitbacktoher Suburban and leave asfastastheycould.The key turned, the door

opened, and Hannah steppedin. No keypad, no flashingred lights, no buzzing orclankingorwailing.Thatwas

good.Itwouldhavebeenoutof character for Max to forkout the extra money for analarm system, but Hannahhadn’t been one hundredpercentsure.“Come on, Andrea.”

Hannah motioned to hersister. “His office is downthishallandtotheright.”Andrea stepped inside

rathergingerly.“Howdoyouknowthat?”“Itookthegrandtourwhen

Iwasinsixthgrade.Wecameout here on a field trip andMaxshowedusaround.”“Wedidn’tget togowhen

I was in grade school.”Andrea sounded a littlemiffed.“Iknow.Theystopped the

tours right after my classwent through. I think it hadsomething to do with DaleHoeschen. He tripped over abox and almost fell into acreamvat.”

Andrea grinned. She wasclearly in better spirits now.“IknewtherewassomethingIdidn’tlikeaboutDale.”Hannah led the way down

thehallandintothemainpartof thedairy. Itwas largeandcavernous, not a comfortableplace to explore at night.Their flashlights werepowerful,but the twinbeamsdid nothing to dispel thelooming shadows. Hannahwassurethattheplacewould

seem very ordinary if theycould turn on the overheadlights, but several rows ofglass-block windowspeppered the face of thebuilding and she didn’t wantto take the chance thatsomeone on the highwaywouldnoticethelight.“Are you sure you know

where you’re going?”Andrea’s voice soundedunnaturally loud in thestillness.

“I think so,” Hannahreplied. “There should beanotherhallway—thereit is.”Hannah trained the beam ofher flashlighton theentranceto the second hallway.“Max’s office should be thesecond door on the left.Betty’s office is the firstdoor.”Astheyenteredthesecond

hallway,Hannahnoticed thatBettyhadpostedthedeliveryschedules on a corkboard

right outside her door. Thedrivers’ names were listedand their routesweremarkedwith the times of eachdelivery. Ron’s name wasstill on his route. Bettymustbe waiting for instructionsfromMaxbeforeshechangedthenameofthedriver.Max’s office was right

where Hannah rememberedand it was marked with abrass nameplate on the door.Hannah opened the door,

steppedinside,andplayedthebeam of her flashlight overthe walls. There were nooutside windows. If theyclosed thedoor behind them,theycouldturnonthelights.“Come in and shut the

door,” Hannah called out tohersister.Andrea stepped in quickly

andshutthedoor.“Good.It’screepyoutthere.”Hannah agreed. Her knees

werestillshakingslightly,but

she decided tomake light ofit for her sister’s benefit.“That’s only because it’s sobiganddark.Youcanturnonthelights.There’sprobablyaswitchrightbythedoor.”“Are you sure?” Andrea

soundedverynervous.“I’m positive. I checked

andtherearen’tanywindows.Noonewillnoticethelightifwekeepthedoorclosed.”Andrea located the wall

switch and a moment later,

bright light flooded downfrom an overhead fixture.Bothsistersbreathedasighofrelief as they gazed aroundthe room. Max’s office washuge and it was tastefullydecorated with dark graywall-to-wall carpeting andpaleyellowgrassclothonthewalls. There were severalframed prints of flowershanginginstrategicpositions,andtheupholsteredfurniture,done in a striped pattern of

muted coral, dark green, andgold, picked up the colorsfromtheflowerprints.“It’s a nice color

combination,” Andreacommented. “The only thingthat doesn’t match is Max’sdeskchair.”Hannah glanced at the old

brown leather swivel chairthat sat behind the modern,executive-styledesk.“IguessMax was going for comfort,notstyle.”

Two smaller chairs facedthe front of the desk forvisitorsandtherewasasmallround table between them.Aconversational grouping wasarranged at the side of theroom and there were threedoors: the one they’d justentered, another that HannahassumedconnectedtoBetty’soffice, and a rough-hewnantique door in the center ofthebackwall.“What’s that door?”

Andrea pointed to the onlydoor that didn’t match thedecor.“That leads to the old

dairy,”Hannah toldher, “theone in thepicture thatMax’smother painted. It’s theoriginaldoorandMaxtoldusabout it when we took thetour. He said the old dairywas a landmark and hedecided to preserve it, eventhoughitcostmoremoneytoincorporate it into his

expansion plans.He called ithiscontributiontothehistoryofthisarea.”Andrea laughed.“Andyou

boughtit?”“Boughtwhat?”“Max didn’t keep the old

dairy intact out of thegoodnessofhisheart.Hegota huge tax break forpreserving a historicallandmark.Allyouhavetodoisconnectoneof theoriginalwalls to the new

construction.”“I guess I shouldn’t be

surprised.”Hannahjustshookherhead.“Everyone’salwayssaid that Max is a shrewdbusinessman.”Andrea reached down to

touch the velvety carpet.“Max must have spent someofthemoneyhesavedtobuythis carpet. It’s the deepestpile they make and it’s justlike walking on pillows. Iwanted it for our bedroom,

butIdecidedthatitwouldbetoohardtokeepup.Itmarkseverytimeyousteponit.It’shideouslyexpensive,too.Forthe price you’d think theycould make something that’seasiertocarefor.”Hannah spotted a leather-

bound appointment book onthe credenza near the doorand shewalked over to pagethrough it.Wednesday’sdatewas marked: TSBConvention. She recognized

Betty’s handwriting. Therewas another note at the top,scrawledinwhatsheassumedwas Max’s untidy hand. Itsaid:MeetW.“Look, Hannah.” Andrea

soundedinsistent.“Seeallthefootprintsonthiscarpet?”Hannahlookeddownatthe

carpet and saw footprints inthe deep pile. “You’re agenius,Andrea.Ifyouhadn’tmentioned it, I might havetrampled right over them.

Follow me and keep to thesidesoftheroom.Let’sseeifwecan findany footprints infrontofMax’sdesk.”Hugging the wall, Hannah

moved forwarduntil shewasevenwith the frontofMax’sdesk. Andrea was rightbehind her, and Hannahpointed to the tracks in frontof one of the chairs. “There!That proves someone was inherewithMax.”“And we know Max was

here. See those marks fromthewheelsofhischair?”“I see them,” Hannah

acknowledged, and then shepointed to another series oftracks. “But I’m moreconcernedaboutthose.”Andrea studied the

indentationsinthepileofthecarpet. “They’re going righttothatdoor.”“The original dairy. Max

musthavetakenhisvisitorinthere. We’d better check it

out.”“Why would he take

someoneinthere?”“He toldus thatheused it

for the storage of oldrecords,” Hannah explained.“Come on. Let’s see if it’sopen.”With Andrea following at

her heels, Hannah pushedopen the door and found thelight switch. She gesturedtoward the shelves of fileboxes lining the small brick

building. “I guess he’s stillusingitforstorage.”“Is that the original safe?”

Andreapointedtotheoldsafeinthecorner.“It must be. It looks old.”

Hannah walked over toexaminethesafedoor.Itwasstanding open, but it didn’tlook damaged in any way.“Maxmusthaveopeneditforsomereason.”As Hannah searched

throughthecontents,shekept

up a running commentary sothat Andrea would knowwhatshewasdoing.“There’sno sign of a robbery oranything like that. Here’s abundleof cash anda jewelrybox.” Hannah snapped openthe box and looked inside.“It’s a pair of gold cufflinks.They look like antiques.Maybe they belonged toMax’s grandfather. Andhere’s an antique pocketwatch and a man’s diamond

ring. There’s a Rolex, too.That must be fairly new. Idon’t think they made themwhenMax’sfatherwasalive.I didn’t notice any kind of asafe in Max’s house, so Iguess this is where he keepshispersonalvaluables.”Her eyes were drawn to a

few stapledpapersononeofthe shelves, and Hannahreachedoutforthem.“Here’sthe speech that Betty typedforMax,justsittingontopof

these files. Max must havepicked it up from Betty’sdeskbeforehecameinhere.”Hannah set the speech

aside and opened one of thefiles.Therewerelegalpapersinside and it looked like aloan agreement. Her eyeswidened as she read thename. “I found the loanpapers thatNorman’sparentssigned. They’re stamped‘Paid In Full’ and Maxinitialed it.Holdona second

andletmelookthroughsomeofthesefiles.Iwanttoseeifthere’s anyone else weknow.”“Here’s one for Frank

Birchum.”Hannahglancedatthecontentsofanotherfolder.“And his papers are stamped‘Foreclosed.’ The Birchumsmoved away about six yearsago,didn’tthey?”Andrea didn’t answer and

Hannah frowned. “Andrea?You knew the Birchums,

didn’t you? They lived rightnext to the fire station, andFrank used to own thelumberyardbeforetheHedinstook it over. Do youremember when they lefttown?”There was no answer and

Hannah turned to see whather sister was doing. Andreawas standing near the doorandsheseemedrooted to thespot.Therewasaglazedlookin her eyes and she was

staringoff into thefarcorneroftheroom.“Andrea?”Hannahwalked

over to take her sister’s arm.She gave it a gentle shake,but Andrea didn’t seem tonotice. “You’re scaring me,Andrea.Talktome!”But Andrea didn’t say a

word.Shejustshudderedandstared off into the far cornerwith an expression of horroronherface.Hannahswiveledaround and looked in the

direction of her sister’sfixated gaze. No wonderAndreawasspeechless.Therewasapairoffeetstickingoutfrom behind one of theshelvesoffileboxes!“Stay right here.” Hannah

realizedhowunnecessarythatwarningwas,butshecouldn’tthinkofanythingelse to say.“I’ll go over and check itout.”Even though Hannah

expected the worst, the sight

that greeted her was still ashock. It was Max, and hewasonhisback.Therewasahole, very similar to the oneshe’d seen in Ron’s CozyCowDairyshirt,inthecenterofMax’schest.Andhiseyeswere wide-open and staringup at nothing, just as Ron’shadbeen.Max was dead. Hannah

didn’t need a doctor to tellher that. The blood on hisshirt had dried thoroughly,

and Hannah assumed thathe’d been dead for quite awhile, probably since shortlyafter his meeting onWednesdaymorning.Hannahwalkedbacktoher

sisterandtookherarm.Therewasn’t any pleasant way totell her. “It’s Max and he’sdead.Let’sgoandfindBill.”“Bill.”Andreamanaged to

chokeouthisname.“Right. Come on, Andrea.

I’ll drive out to the accident

scene and we’ll find him.How about Tracey? Do youneedtogethometoher?”Andrea shook her head. It

wasajerky,almostautomatickind of motion, but Hannahwasrelieved.Atleastshewasresponding. “With Lucy.Overnight.Atthefarm.”“Good.” Hannah

understoodwhatAndreawastrying to say. LucyDunwright was Andrea’sfriend, and her daughter,

Karen, was Tracey’s age.Tracey was spending thenightwithKarenatthefamilyfarm.Hannahglancedoveratthe

safe and made one of hersnap decisions, the kind thatfrequently got her intotrouble. This was a crimesceneandallofMax’spaperswould be taken as evidence.Hannah knew that sheshouldn’t touchanything,butNorman had told them how

embarrassed his motherwouldbeifanyonefoundoutabout the loan papers they’dsigned withMax. Their loanhad been paid off more thanfive years ago. The datewasright on the papers. It hadnothing to dowith the crimeand therewasnoreasonwhyanyone else had to knowaboutit.It only took a second to

grabthefileandstuffitinsidethe front of her jacket.

Hannah collected herflashlight and then she wentover to take Andrea’s hand.“Come on, Andrea. We’releavingnow.”Andrea was in shock and

the sooner they got out ofhere, the better. Hannahpulled her into Max’s officeand guided her around theperimeter of the carpet andout the door. They walkedback the way they’d come,across the large open space

and out the back entrance.Hannah led the way to herSuburban and opened thepassenger door. She tuckedAndrea inside, walkedaround,andslidin.“Eat another cookie,

Andrea.”Hannahplunkedthebag on her sister’s lap. “It’llhelp.”Andrea reached into the

bag and took out a cookie.She stared at it for a secondand then she took a bite.

Hannah started the engineand drove out of the parkinglot, turningonto thehighwayandheadingfortheinterstate.Bill shouldn’tbe thathard tofind.Shecouldhearsirensinthedistanceandallshehadtodo was head toward thesound.They’d driven about five

miles when Andrea made astrange chortling sound.Hannah turned tostareatherand reached out to pat her

arm. “Just take it easy,Andrea. I can see flashinglights up ahead. We’ll bethereinaminute.”Andrea nodded, and then

she made the sound again.Hannahrealized that itwasachuckle, and as she listened,itturnedintoafairlynormal-sounding giggle. “What is it,Andrea? You’re not gettinghystericalonme,areyou?”“No.” Andrea giggled

again. “I really do feelmuch

better. I hate to say it, butmaybe you’re right. It couldbethechocolate.”“Chocolatehelps.”Hannah

statedhertheoryagain,abouthow the caffeine and theendorphins in chocolatecalmed nerves, heightenedawareness, and provided asenseofwell-being.Andthenher thoughts turned to Billand how furious he’d bewhenshetoldhimthatthey’dbroken into Max’s house,

searchedthedairy,andfoundMax’sbody.“Andrea?” Hannah turned

tohersister.“IthinkIneedadose of my own medicine.Hand me one of thosecookies.”

CHOCOLATE-

COVEREDCHERRYDELIGHTS

Preheatovento350°F.,rackinthemiddleposition.

1 cupmelted

butter(2sticks)

2 cupswhitesugar

2eggs½teaspoonbakingpowder

½teaspoonbaking

soda½teaspoonsalt

2teaspoonsvanilla

1 cupcocoapowder

3 cupsflour(notsifted)

2 small,10-oz.jars ofmaraschinocherries***

1 pkg.chocolatechips(6 oz.pkg.—2cups)

½ cupcondensed

sweetenedmilk

Melt butterand mix insugar. Letmixture cooland add eggs.Mix itthoroughlyandthen addbaking

powder,baking soda,salt, vanilla,and cocoa,stirring aftereach addition.Add flour andmix well.(Doughwillbestiff and a bitcrumbly.)Drain

cherries andremove stems,

reservingjuice.Pat dough

into walnut-sized ballswith yourfingers. Placeon greasedcookie sheet,12 to astandardsheet.

Press down incenter withthumbtomakea deepindentation. (Ifthe healthboard’saround, usethe bowl of asmall spoon!)Place one

cherry in eachindentation.

In a

saucepan oversimmeringwater (doubleboiler)combine thechocolatechips and thecondensedmilk. Heat onlow until the

chips aremelted. (Youcan also dothis in themicrowave,butyou’llhaveto keepzapping it tokeep it fromhardening.)

Addapprox. cup of the

reservedcherry juiceand stir to athick sauce. Ifsauce is toothick, addmore juice insmallincrements.(Test it with ateaspoon. If itdoesn’t globoff, it’s toothick.)

Spoon the

sauce over thecenter of eachcookie justenough tocover eachcherry. Makesure it doesn’tdrip down thesides.

Bake at 350

degrees F. for

10 to 12minutes. Letcooloncookiesheet for 2minutes, thenremovetorackto finishcooling.

*** For thosewhodon’t likecherries,substitutewell-drained

pineappletidbits, usingthe juice tothin thefrosting. Youcan also usepecan halvesor macadamianuts and thinthe frostingwith coldcoffee orwater. If youdon’t have

anything to goon top, justglob thechocolatemixture intotheindentations.That’s good,too.

Yield:7to8dozen,depending oncookiesize.

A plate of

these shouldbe in everypsychiatrist’soffice—twoChocolate-CoveredCherryDelights will

liftanyoneoutof adepression.

ChapterTwenty

Hannah poured two glassesof chilled wine from thegreenjuginthebottomofherrefrigerator and carried theminto the living room. Hersister was seated on thecouch, still looking rattled,

but the color had come backto her cheeks. Moishe wasnestled in her arms, andHannah could hear himpurring as Andrea absentlystrokedhishead.Herresidentfeline was uncanny. Heseemed to sense that Andreawas in need of comfort andhe was doing his bestimitationofalapcat.Hannahhanded one of the glasses toAndrea and said, “Here.Drinkthis.”

“What is it?”Andrea eyedthe stemmed glasssuspiciously.“White wine. Don’t ask

about the label. I’m sureyou’veneverheardofit.”Andrea reached for the

glassandexpertlysloshedtheliquid in a tight circle. “Niceliquor line.”Then she took asmall sip. “Light andsomewhat fruity with anundertone of oak. It’s not atrueChardonnay,butit’svery

interesting.Ilikeit.”Hannah just smiled and

kepthercommentstoherself.IfAndreaknewthatthewinehadcomefromtheLakeEdenCostMart,andagallonbarelyputadentinaten-dollarbill,she’d decide that itwas purevinegar.“I think it’s domestic.”

Andreatookanothersip.“AmIright?”Hannah decided it was

time to switch to another

subject.“YouwereincrediblewithBill. I still can’t believethatheisn’tmadatme.”“Bill can’t stand itwhen I

cry.” Andrea gave a smugsmile. “He just falls apartwhenmylipstartstoquiver.”“And you can quiver on

command?”“Of course.” Andrea’s

smile grewwider. “I learnedhow to quiver right afterMother bought me my firstbra.Italwaysworkswiththe

guys.”“You’reamazing,”Hannah

said with real admiration.Because of her practice atdealing with doting men,Andreahadmanagedtoavoidthe lecture that they’d bothdeserved.Hannah had done her best

to explain things to Bill.She’dtoldhimthattheyweresoworriedaboutMax,they’dsimply had to check on him.Andthen,whenthey’dfound

Max’s Cadillac half-packedfor his trip to the Tri-StateButtermakers’ Convention,they’d had no choice but touse his key to search hisoffice at the dairy, the lastplace that anyone had seenhim.That hadn’t quite done it.

Billhadstillbeenupsetaboutthe fact that Hannah had ledhis wife into a potentiallydangerous situation. ButHannahhadposedaquestion:

Wasn’t it lucky that they’dfoundMax’sbodybefore thetrailhadgonecold?Billhadreluctantlyagreed,

but he’d laid down someground rules. The next timeHannahdecided to followupalead,sheshouldcheckwithhim first. Hannah hadpromised and she’dmeant it.Finding twodeadbodieswasmore than enough for onelifetime. But then Bill hadstartedtoaskquestionsabout

exactlywhytheyhadn’tcomeout to the accident scene toget him earlier, and Andreahad gone into lip-quiveringmode. One glance atAndrea’s close-to-tearscountenance and Bill hadmelted.He’d huggedAndreaand told her that he’d get aride to Hannah’s condo sothathecoulddriveherhome.And then he’d assured herthathewasn’tangrywithherorwithHannah.

“Moishe is a verycomforting sort of pet.”Andrea’s fingers strayedtoward the sensitive spotbehind Moishe’s ear and hepurred even louder. “It’sreally amazing that he’s sodomesticated,consideringthekind of life that he used tolead. He’s just sitting hereand purring. I never knewthathewassosweet.”Hannahwasn’tabouttotell

Andrea how Moishe acted

when he was hunting. Shedoubtedthatanysmallrodentor flightless bird woulddescribe him as sweet. “IneedtotalktoyouaboutMr.Harris, Andrea. You said hewas waiting at the Petersonproperty when you got thereonWednesdaymorning?”“That’s right. Imethimat

nine-thirty,buthesaidhewasthere a lot earlier than that.”Andreathoughtabout itforamoment, and then her eyes

widened. “Do you think hemighthaveseensomething?”Hannah shrugged. “That

dependsonwhat timehegotthere.Hedidn’ttellyouifheknewMaxorRon,didhe?”“No. He said he didn’t

know anyone in—” AndreastoppedandstaredatHannahasthelightdawned.“Doyouthink Mr. Harris killed MaxandRon?”“Thetimeframeworks,but

Mr. Harris doesn’t have a

motiveasfarasweknow.I’dcertainly like to talk to himaboutit.Youdon’thappentohavehishomephonenumber,doyou?”“OfcourseIdo.I’mareal

estate agent. I always carrymyclients’numberswithme.Just hand me my purse. Idon’t want to disturbMoishe.”Hannahwalkedovertoget

thepurse from thechairnearthe door and handed it to

Andrea.When her sister hadopened it, Hannah admiredthe way the interior wasorganized. Andrea’s makeupwasinasee-throughpouchsothat she could easily find theitem she wanted, her keyswere clipped to a leatherstrap, and her wallet wasneatly stowed away in aleather holder on the side.There was even an insidepouch for the glasses thatAndrea needed for reading,

butrefusedtowear.Andrea reached inside

anotherpouchanddrewoutasmall address book. SheflippedtotheproperpageandhandedittoHannah.“Hereitis. You’re not going to callhimnow,areyou?”“There’s no time like the

present.”“But it’s almost midnight.

Whatareyougoingtosay?”“I don’t know yet, but I’ll

think of something.”Hannah

grabbed the phone. “Relax,Andrea.Iwon’tmentionyourname.”As she punched out the

number, Hannah consideredheroptions.Mr.Harriswouldbe more likely to give herinformation if she had somesort of credential. She couldsay that she was a reporterwith the Lake Eden Journal,butthatmightbackfire.IfMr.Harris had anything to hide,he’d simply hang up on

someone who said theyworked for the townnewspaper. As her call wasconnected, Hannah made asnap decision. Mr. Harriswouldn’t dare to hang up onthepolice.“Hello?”Thevoiceontheotherend

ofthelinesoundedgroggy,asif she’d awakened him, andHannahdidherbesttosoundofficial. “Mr. Harris? I’msorryifIwokeyou,butthisis

Miss Swensen from theWinnetka County Sheriff’sStation.We’reinvestigatingacrime that occurred at theCozy Cow Dairy onWednesday morning,sometimebetween six-fifteenandeight.Weneedtoknowifyou happened to observeanything that could relate tothe crime. I understand thatyou were in the area at thattime?”“Yes, I was. What

happened?”Hannah smiled.Mr.Harris

soundedcooperative.“Ican’tgive you the details, but Ineed to know the time thatyouarrivedinLakeEdenandwhatyousawwhileyouwerethere.”“Letmesee. Igot toLake

Edenaboutaquartertosevenand drove straight out to thePeterson farm. I did see onething that was odd, but I’mnotsureifit’shelpful.”

“Tell me anyway, Mr.Harris.” Hannah maintainedherprofessionalvoice.“AsIapproachedthedairy,

a car pulled out of thedriveway.Thedriverwasinareal hurry. He skidded overthe centerline, and I had toswervetoavoidhim.”“You said he, Mr. Harris.

Thedriverwasaman?”“I’m not sure. I didn’t

actually see him. The sunvisorwasdown.”

“Very good.” Hannahgrabbedthenotebookandpenthatweresittingonthecoffeetable and made a note.“Couldyoudescribethecar?”“It was a small black

compactwith a rental stickeron the window. The stickerwas white with red lettering,but I didn’t see the name ofthe company. I always useHertz, myself. My companygets a special rate fromthem.”

“Thenyoudon’townacar,Mr.Harris?”Hannahwinkedat Andrea. Her question hadnothing to do with theinvestigation, but shewantedtofindoutifhe’dtoldAndreathetruth.“I have a vintage Jaguar,

butIprefernottodriveitoutofthecity.I’mcertainlygladI didn’t drive it onWednesday!Thatotherdrivercameveryclosetohittingme.I just wish that Marshal

Beeseman had been there togivehimaticket.”Hannah’s eyebrows rose

and she jotted another note.“You’re acquainted withMarshalBeeseman?”“Yes. He saw my car

parked in front of thePeterson place and drove upto ask me what I was doingthere.”HannahwrotedownHerb’s

name. “What time was this,Mr.Harris?”

“Aminuteorsopasteight.I was listening to the radioand the eight o’clock newshadjuststarted.”“You’vebeenveryhelpful,

Mr. Harris.” Hannah turnedtowinkatAndreabeforesheasked her final question.“Perhaps this has nothing todo with our case, but couldyou tellmewhyyoudecidednot to buy the Petersonproperty?”For a moment Hannah

thoughtthatMr.Harriswouldrefuse to answer, but thenhecleared his throat. “Myfiancée said she wanted tolive in the country, but shebrokeoffourengagementonTuesday night. That’s why IcametoLakeEdensoearly.Icouldn’t sleep and I decidedthat driving might make mefeelbetter.IsupposeIshouldhave told Mrs. Todd thereason that I passed on thehouse,butIreallydidn’twant

todiscussit.”“That’s certainly

understandable.” Hannahmade a note on her pad andpassed it to Andrea. “Thankyou, Mr. Harris. Weappreciateyourcooperation.”Andrea waited until

Hannah had hung up thephoneandthenshepointedtothe note. “Mr. Harris wasbuyingthePetersonplaceforhisgirlfriend?”“That’s what he said. She

broke off their engagementonTuesdaynight.Youwouldhave sold it if she’dhungonforjustonemoreday.”“Oh, well. You win some

and you lose some.” Andreashruggedanddrainedthelastof her wine. “After all I’vebeenthroughtonight,IthinkIdeserveanotherglassofwine.It’s really excellent, Hannah.I wasn’t sure at first, but itdefinitely has legs. There’smore,isn’tthere?”

Hannah went off to fetchher sister another glass ofChateau Screw Top. IfAndreawanted to get a littlesmashed, that was fine withHannah. She just hoped thatwhen Bill arrived, Andreawouldn’t need to be slungover his shoulder like agunnysack and carried downthestairs.The nightwasn’t peaceful,

notbya longshot,andwhenHannah’s alarm went off atsixthenextmorning,shefeltas if she’d just closed hereyes. Her dreams had beenpeppered with bullet holes,blood, and stiff, cold legssticking out like boardsbehind couches, chairs, andbookcases. There had evenbeenacowinherdreams—ahuge, homicidal Guernseythat had chased her overfencesandpastbubblingvats

ofcream.Hannahgroanedandsatup

in bed. Duty called. She hadtobaketheBlackandWhitesfor the sheriff’s department’sopenhouse.As she padded into the

kitchen, stepping carefully toavoidMoishe’smorningrubsagainst her ankles, shewondered about the newhotshot detective from theMinneapolis PoliceDepartment. Would he

approve of the way that Billwas handling the double-homicide case?SheriffGranthadobviouslybeenimpressedwiththenewman.Accordingto Bill, he’d set up aninterview the day that hisapplication had come in themail.“Here’s your breakfast,

Moishe.” Hannah dumpeddry crunchies into Moishe’sbowl and gave him freshwater. Then she stumbled

toward the coffeemaker andpouredherfirstcup.Shemustbe a caffeine addict. Shereally couldn’t functionwithout a wake-up cup, orthree,inthemorning.Shejusthoped the FDA and thepresident’s drug czar didn’tever turn her into a criminalby classifying coffee as adrug.Somedays itwaseasier to

operate on automatic pilot.Hannah didn’t want to wake

up to the point where sherecognized how tired shereallywas.Shesluggeddownonlyonecupof thesteamingbrew, enough so that shewouldn’t fall asleep anddrown in the shower, andthen she went back to herbedroom to get ready forwork. When she hadshowered and dressed, shecameouttoemptytherestofthecoffeeintothelarge-sizedcarcaddy thatBillhadgiven

her for Christmas. Sherefilled Moishe’s food bowl,grabbed her jacket and keys,and stepped out into thepredawnfreeze.The blast of cold air that

greeted Hannah caused hereyestosnapopenalltheway.Herbreathcameout inwhitepuffs and she shivered herway down the outsidestairwaytothegarage.Itwastime to break out her fullwintergear.

The garage was deserted,thecarslinedupinevenrowsagainst the paintedcinderblock walls. Hannahhurried to her Suburban andjumped inside, cranking themotor over twice before itstarted. Time to plug in hertruck,too.Theheaterkicked inabout

the time she turned ontoOldLake Road. Hannah reachedoverandturnedtheleversonbothventstodirectthewarm

air toher sideof thevehicle.Asshezippeddownthedarkroad,sheflippedontheradio,and the impossibly cheeryvoicesof JakeandKelly, thecrazy duo that hostedKCOW’s “NewsAtO’Dark-Thirty Show,” assaulted herears. She switched toWEZY’s mellow strains andthought about the peculiarcalllettersofMinnesotaradiostations.Ifthetransmitterwaseastof theMississippiRiver,

the call letters started with aW. If it was west of theMississippi, the call lettersstarted with a K. The samewas true for televisionstations. Itwas all controlledby the FCC. Hannahwondered what thebureaucrats would do if astationbuiltabridgeovertheMississippiandmountedtheirtransmitterinthemiddle.Deliberately averting her

eyes from the dairy as she

passed it, Hannah made herwayintotown.Therewasnoway she wanted to bereminded of Max’s lifelessbody this early in themorning. She spotted HerbBeeseman a block from hershop and flagged him down.Plying him with the rest ofthe Chocolate-CoveredCherry Delights in exchangefor information, she verifiedthathe’dtalkedtoMr.Harrisat the Peterson farm at eight

onWednesdaymorning.Hannah pulled into her

parking place at six forty-five. After she’d locked upher truck, she plugged in thehead-bolt heater and openedthe back door to the bakery.The sweet dark scent ofchocolate greeted her, andHannahbegan to smile.Nextto coffee, chocolate was herfavoritearoma.After she’d flicked on the

lights, fired up the ovens,

stuck on her cap, andscrubbed her hands at thesink, Hannah got out amixing bowl. She had tomakea samplebatchofOld-Fashioned Sugar Cookies forthewomanwho’dcateredtheWoodleys’party.Hannah poured herself a

cup of coffee from the carcaddy and read over therecipe while she ingestedmorecaffeine.Mixingcookiedough was something she

never did on automatic pilot.She’d tried it once and leftout an ingredient that wasessential to every cookie:sugar.When the dough was

ready,Hannahcovereditwithplasticwrapandstashed it inher walk-in cooler. Thedough for the Black andWhites was thoroughlychilled and she grabbed abowlandcarrieditovertothework island. She’d just

finishedrollingenoughdoughballs for two sheets ofcookies when Lisa came inthebackdoor.Hannah glanced at the

clock. It was only seven-thirty and Lisa wasn’tscheduled to come in untileightonSaturdays.“Hi,Lisa.You’rehalfanhourearly.”“Iknow.Ijustthoughtyou

might need some help withthe customers this morning.We’llbepacked.”

“Wewill?”“Youbet.They’llallcome

intofindoutwhatyouknowaboutMax.”Hannah’seyebrowsshotup

in surprise. “How did youfindoutsofast?”“IwaslisteningtoJakeand

Kelly,andtheysaidthatMaxwasdead.Thosetwoguysarecrazy.Theyweremakingbadcow jokes and calling it atributetoMax.”“Bad cow jokes?” Hannah

looked up from her task ofrolling the dough balls inpowderedsugar.“Youknowthetype,”Lisa

explained as she hung herjacket on the hook by thedoor. “‘Why did FarmerBrown buy a black cow?Because he wanted to getchocolatemilk.’Thatwasthebestofthem.Therestweresobad, I don’t even rememberthem. Do you want me tostart the coffee and set the

tablesupintheshop?”Hannah nodded and slid

the first two cookie sheetsinto the ovens. She set thetimer for twelveminutes andwalked back to the workisland to start rolling moreballs. Lisa was right. If JakeandKellyhaddiscussedMaxTurner on their show, TheCookie Jarwould be floodedwith customers thismorning.And when the news got outthat she’d been the one to

findMax’sbody,itwouldbestanding room only. Hannahsighed as she rolled moredough balls in powderedsugar. If she were everunlucky enough to find athird body, she’d probablyhavetobuythebuildingnextdoorandexpand.

OLD-FASHIONED

SUGARCOOKIES

Donotpreheatovenyet—doughmustchillbeforebaking.

2 cupsmelted

butter(4sticks)

2 cupspowdered(confectioners’)sugar(notsifted)

1 cupwhite(granulated)sugar

2eggs

2teaspoonsvanilla

1teaspoonlemonzest(optional)

1teaspoonbakingsoda

1teaspoon

creamoftartar(critical!)

1teaspoonsalt

4¼ cupsflour(notsifted)

½ cupwhite

(granulated)sugarin asmallbowl(forlater)

Melt butter.Add sugarsand mix. Letcool to room

temperatureandmix in theeggs, one at atime.Thenaddthe vanilla,lemon zest,baking soda,cream oftartar,andsalt.Mixwell.Addflour inincrements,mixing aftereachaddition.

Chill dough

foratleastonehour.(Overnight isfine.)

Whenyou’re ready

to bake,preheat ovento325degreesF. and placerack in themiddle of theoven.

Use hands

to roll doughin walnut-sized balls.Roll doughballsinabowl

ofwhitesugar.(Mix whitesugar 2 to 1with coloredsugar forholidays—green for St.Pat’sDay,redand green forChristmas,multicoloredfor birthdays.)Place on agreasedcookie

sheet, 12 to astandard sheet.Flatten doughballs with agreasedspatula.

Bake at 325

degrees F. for10 to 15minutes. (Theyshould have atinge of goldon the top.)

Cool oncookie sheetfor 2 minutes,thenremovetoaracktofinishcooling. Theycan bedecoratedwithfrosting pipedfrom a pastrybagforspecialoccasions orleftjustastheyare.

Used these

for thechorale’sfundraiserdecoratedwithmusic notes infudge frosting—ravereviews!

Yield: 8 to

10 dozen,depending on

cookiesize.

ChapterTwenty-One

Hannahhad just turnedoverthebakingtoLisaandpouredherself a cup of coffeewhenthephonerang.“That’sgotto

beMother.She’stheonlyonewhocallsmethis timeof themorning.”“Do you want me to get

it?” Lisa offered helpfully,even though her hands werecoveredwithpowderedsugar.“No,it’llonlypostponethe

inevitable.”Hannahliftedthereceiver and gave herstandard greeting. “TheCookie Jar. Hannahspeaking.”“I’msoglad I caughtyou,

dear. I promised the girls I’dcheck. Are you booked forthe second Thursday inDecember?”Hannah stretched out the

phone cord and walked overto her calendar, flipping thepages to December. No onebooked this early, andHannahknewthathermotherwas just fishing forinformation about MaxTurner.“I’mfree,Mother.”“Good. I joined a new

group.”“That’s nice.” Hannah

gave the appropriateresponse. She really shouldbemoregrateful.Deloreshadbecome a joiner sinceHannah’sfatherhaddied,andher groups always bookedHannah to cater their events.“What’s the name of thisgroup,Mother?”“The Lake Eden Quilting

Society, dear. They meetevery other Thursday in the

back room at Trudi’sFabrics.”Hannah obediently wrote

downtheinformation,butshewas puzzled. As far as sheknew, her mother had neverpickedupaneedleinherlife.“You’re sewing now,Mother?”“Good heavens, no! I

managed to find them twoquilting frames at an auctionlastmonth and they awardedmeanhonorarymembership.

Ijustgotobesociable.”“How many groups does

thatmakenow,Mother?”“Twelve.Whenyourfather

died, Ruth Pfeffer told methat I should develop outsideinterests. I’m just taking heradvice.”“You’re taking Ruth’s

advice seriously?” Hannahwas shocked. Ruth Pfeffer,one of her mother’sneighbors,hadvolunteeredtodo grief counseling at the

community center after onlyone two-credit class at thecommunitycollege.“Ruth’sadingbat—yousaidsoyourself—and she’s not qualified tocounselanyone.I’msurprisedshedidn’tsuggestsuttee!”Delores laughed. “You’re

right, dear.But that’s illegal,eveninIndia.”“Very good, Mother,”

Hannah complimented her.Occasionally Delores’s senseofhumorkickedin,andthose

were the timeswhenHannahlikedherthebest.“Whatkindofcookieswouldyoulike?”“How about those

Chocolate-Covered CherryDelights?Andreatoldmethattheywerefabulous.”Hannah jotted itdownand

then she realized what hermother had said.Andrea hadtasted those cookies for thefirst time last night. If she’dmentionedthemtoDelores,itmust have been earlier this

morning. “Did you callAndrea this morning,Mother?”“Yes, dear. We had a

lovely chat. As a matter offact, I just got off the phonewithher.”Hannah’s eyes widened.

Hersisterwasnot amorningperson. “You called Andreabefore eight? On aSaturday?”“Of course I did. Iwanted

to make sure she was all

right.Thepoor dear soundeddreadful.Shetoldmethatherhead was still reeling fromthatawfulmigraine.”Hannah started to grin. It

wasn’t surprising thatAndrea’s head was reeling.She’d polished off fourglasses of that “impudentlittle wine” before Bill hadcometodriveherhome.“I’vegot to run, Mother. It’s lateand I have to get ready toopentheshop.”

“Youdon’topenuntilninethismorning.HowaboutMaxTurner? I heard on the radiothathewasdead.”Hannah rolled her eyes at

Lisa, who was trying not tolookamusedatherattempttoend theconversation.“That’strue,Mother.”“I know it’s not nice to

speakillofthedead,butMaxmadealotofenemieshereinLake Eden. I don’t thinkanyone isgoing toshed tears

forhim.”“Really?” Hannah thought

she knew exactly what hermotherwastalkingabout,butshe wanted to hear it fromDelores.“Whyisthat?”“He wasn’t a nice man,

Hannah. I don’t want you torepeat this, but I heard thatseveral families lost theirhomes because of MaxTurner.”“Really?” Hannah did her

best to sound as if this was

thefirstshe’dheardofit.“He was a . . .” Delores

paused, and Hannah knewthat she was attempting tothink of the proper word.“What’sthatterm,Hannah?Iknow it has something to dowithafish.”“Aloanshark?”“That’sit.Youhavesucha

goodvocabulary,dear.Ithinkitcomesfromallthatreadingyou did as a child. I wonderwhat’llhappentothoseloans

now?”“I don’t know,” Hannah

replied,makingamentalnoteto askBill if he’d found anycurrent loan papers in thestackoffileshe’dconfiscatedfrom Max’s safe. But thosefiles would only serve toeliminate suspects. If Maxhadbeenkilledoveracurrentloan, his killer would havetakenthepapers.“I’vealreadyhadfourcalls

this morning about Max,”

Delores informed her. “Thewhole town’s talking, andeverybody’s got a story totell.”That gave Hannah an idea

and she started to smile.Delores belonged to a dozengroups and she heard all thegossip. What if her motherheard about a loan that Maxhadmade,anamethatwasn’ton any of the files that Billhad removed from the safe?That person could very well

beMax’skiller.“Willyoudosomethingforme,Mother?”“Of course, dear. What is

it?”“Keep your ears open and

call me if you hear anyonediscussing any businessdealings with Max. It’simportant. I really need toknow.”“All right, dear. I’m sure

there’llbetalk—therealwaysis.ButIdon’tseewhyit’ssoimport—” Delores stopped,

and Hannah heard her gasp.“They didn’t go into anydetails aboutMax’s death ontheradio.Washemurdered?”Hannah groaned. There

weretimeswhenDeloreswasmuch too perceptive to suither.“I’mnotsupposedtosayanything about that. It couldcostBillhispromotion.”“Then I won’t breathe a

word.You can count onme,Hannah. I’d never doanythingtohurtBill’scareer.

But it’s just going to killmenottotellCarrie!”“I know, but the news

shouldbreakanyminute.Justkeeplisteningtotheradio.”“How do you know? Did

Bill tell youor . . .”Deloresgasped again. “Don’t tellmethat you discovered Max’sbody!”“Ireallycan’ttalkaboutit,

Mother.”Therewas another lengthy

pause, and then Delores

sighed. “You really have tostop doing this, Hannah.You’re going to scare all theeligible men off if you keepon finding murder victims.Theonlyonewhomightgiveyouasecondglancewouldbeahomicidedetective!”“I suppose you’re right.”

Hannah started to grin.Perhapsfindingbodieswasn’tso bad, after all. “I really dohave to run, Mother. Justremember to call me if you

hearanything,okay?”Hannah hung up and

turned toLisa. “ThatwomancantalklongerthananyoneIknow.”“Mothers are like that,”

Lisa responded, but shelookedverygrave.“Icouldn’thelp hearing your end of theconversation. Was Maxmurdered?”“I’mafraidhewas.”“That doesn’t surpriseme.

Hewas a loan shark.One of

our neighbors almostborrowed some money fromhim,butDadlookedoverthepapers and told him not tosign. He ended up getting abankloaninstead.”Hannah was about to ask

her the neighbor’s namewhen she realized that itdidn’t really matter. If theneighbor hadn’t signed, he’dhavenomotivetokillMax.“Why don’t you sit down,

Hannah? You look beat and

it’s only eight-thirty. Andthink seriously about takingthe day off.You know I canhandlethingshere.”“Thanks, Lisa. I’m really

tempted.” Hannah sat downon thestoolat theendof thework island and thoughtaboutadayoff.Shecouldgohome,brushMoishe,watchalittle television, and call in amilliontimestofindoutwhatwas happening. It was betterto stay here, in the thick of

things. “Thanks for offering,butIwouldn’trestanyway.”“Okay, but if you change

yourmind, just letmeknow.Whatdoyouwantmetobakewhen I finishwith theBlackandWhites?”“TheOld-Fashioned Sugar

Cookies,” Hannah answered.“They should be chilled bythen. There’s only one batchofdough.”“Do you want me to roll

them in white sugar, or

mixed?”“Just white. When they’re

cool,pickout adozenof thebest and pack them forshipping.IpromisedtosendasampleboxtotheWoodleys’caterer.”Lisa lookedpleased.“New

business?”“Maybe. You haven’t said

anythingabouttheparty.Didyouhaveagoodtime?”“It was fantastic, Hannah.

I’ve never been to such a

fancy party before. It’s justtoo bad thatwe had to leaveearly.”“Herbwascalledouttothe

accidentscene?”“No, but he thought he

shouldgoanyway.Ihadhimdrop me off at home beforehe went out there. I didn’tfeel like staying at the partyalone.Hecalledmelaterandhe said it was a miracle noone had been killed.Seventeen cars! Can you

imaginethat?”“Unfortunately, I can. I’d

better go up front, Lisa. It’salmosttimetoopen.”As she went through the

swinging door, Hannahthoughtaboutthemassivecarpileupshe’dalmostjoinedonthe interstate last year.All ittookwas one patch of ice, alapse in judgment, andseveral drivers following tooclosely. She’d taken theshoulder to avoid hitting the

huge Red Owl grocery truckahead of her and she’dconsidered herself fortunateto wind up in a soft snowyditch.Itwas adarkmorningand

Hannah switched on thelights. She wasn’t lookingforward to the dark winterseason with sunrise at nineand sunset at four. It waseven worse for people likePhilPlotnik,whoworked thenight shift at DelRay

Manufacturing. It was darkwhen he went to work, darkwhen he came home fromwork, and if the sun didn’tshine on the weekends, hemissedoutcompletely.Acarpulledup in frontof

the shop and HannahrecognizedBill’soldclunker.She hurried to unlock thedoor and scanned Bill’s faceinthelightfloodingoutofthewindows as hewalked up tothedoor.Hewassmilingand

Hannah was relieved. Billwasn’t the type to hold agrudge and it was clear thathe’d forgiven her forinvolving his wife in hersleuthinglastnight.“Hi,Hannah.”Billcamein

and hung up his coat on thestrip of hooks near the door.“Ifoundoutabout thatrentalcar that Andrea’s client saw.The name of the company isCompactsUnlimited.”Hannah ducked behind the

countertopourBillamugofcoffee. “I’ve never heard ofthem.”“They’re a small outfit.

Their main office is inMinneapolis and they’ve gota total of fourteen lots allover the state. I talked to thewoman in charge ofreservations. She said theiroffice didn’t rent to anybodywithaLakeEdenaddress,butshe’ssendingmeaprintoutofeveryone who’s rented from

theminthepasttwoweeks.”“When?”“ASAP.She doesn’t know

how to gather the data fromthe other locations, but shesaid she’d call in theircomputerexpert.”“Soyou’llhaveittoday?”“That’s doubtful. The

computer guywent away fortheweekend,butshe’stryingto find him.” Bill’s gazeshifted toward the cookiesbehind the counter. “Are

those Chocolate ChipCrunches?”Hannahnoddedandsetout

two cookies for him. Thiswasn’tthetimetoremindhimthatheshouldprobablywatchhis weight. “Did you get achancetolookatthefilesthatwereinMax’soldsafe?”“Mmm.” Bill swallowed.

“Maxmadealotofloanstoalot of people. Some of themwere old, but I found aboutten active ones. That’s ten

more suspects I’m going tohavetocheckout.”Hannahshookherhead.“I

thinkthat’sawasteoftime.Ifsomeone shotMax togethisloanpapers,hewouldn’thaveleftthembehind.”“Goodpoint.Whatdoyou

thinkIshoulddowiththem?”“Make a list of the names

and then lock themup in theevidenceroom.”Bill looked confused.

“WhyshouldImakea listof

thenameswhennoneofthosepeoplearesuspects?”“So that you can check

them against any gossip wehear.IfsomebodytalksaboutoneofMax’sactiveloansandit’snot on your list, it couldpointtothekiller.”“That’s very clever,

Hannah.I’lldoitjustassoonasIgettothestation.Didyouthink of anything else that Ishoulddo?”“Not really, but at least

we’vegotatheory.”“Isitthesameoneyoutold

meabouttheothernight?”“Absolutely. I was

watching Klute and that’swhatgavemetheidea.We’llknowifit’srightjustassoonas the ballistics reports comeback.”“That’ll takeawhile,butI

talked to Doc Knight thismorning.He’sgotagoodeyeandhe toldme that it lookedlike the same type of bullet

thatkilledRon.”Hannah laughed. “I could

havetoldhimthat!”“Me too. Lake Eden’s too

small to havemore than onemurderer. Tell me yourtheoryagain,Hannah. Iwanttoseeifeverythingfits.”Hannah poured a mug of

coffee for herself and satdownon thestoolbehind thecounter. “Ron saw Maxmeetingwiththekilleratsix-fifteen on Wednesday

morning. After Ron left, thekiller shot Max. The killerwas afraid that once Max’sbody was found, Ron wouldputtwoandtwotogetherandidentify him. That’s why hetracked Ron down and shothim.”“But didn’t the woman

withthepinklipsticksaythattheyweren’tfollowed?”“She did, but that doesn’t

rule anything out. Don’tforget that Ron’s route was

posted on the wall rightoutside Betty’s office. Thekiller could have checked itand caught up with himlater.”“That makes sense.” Bill

took another bite of hiscookie and chewedthoughtfully. “Then you’resaying that Ron was killedjust because he was in thewrong place at the wrongtime?”“That’s it. If Ron hadn’t

goneintothedairytopickupthat extra box of Cozy Cowpens,he’dbealivetoday.”Bill winced. “Talk about

bad luck! Are you sure thatMaxwas killed because of aloanhemade?”“I’m not sure of anything,

but it makes the most sense.Thesafe in theolddairywasopen, but there’s nowaywecantellifanythingismissing.IdoubtthatevenBettyknowswhatwasinside.”

“She doesn’t.” Bill lookedsmug. “I called her thismorning to ask. She toldmethat Max was the only onewith the combination andshe’d never even seen himopenit.Theykeptallthecashfromthedairyinthenewsafethat’sinheroffice.”“How’sBettyholdingup?”“She’ll be all right. She’s

usually off on theweekends,but she said she’s going inanyway, that someone needs

to be there to answer theemployees’ questions andhandlethephones.Yougottohand it toher,Hannah.Bettywas really upset when I toldher about Max, but she’sgoing to put her personalgrief aside and keep onhandling things just the wayMax would have wanted herto, even if it means workingovertime.”Hannah couldn’t hide her

grin. There was no way that

Betty would miss thisweekend at the dairy, and itwasn’t for any altruisticreasons. Betty was happiestwhen she could hear all thegossip firsthand, and thephones would be ringing offthe hook. “Did she tell youanythingelse?”“Shegaveme thenameof

Max’s lawyer and I checkedwithhimtoseewho’dinherit.That’s another good motive,youknow.”

“You’reright,Bill.Ididn’teven think of that.What didthelawyersay?”“Maxlefteverythingtohis

nephewinIdaho.The lawyerisgoingtocontacthimtodayandgethisinstructions.”“How about those

footprints on the carpet?Were you able to tellanythingaboutthekillerfromthem?”“Not really. They

photographedthemaspartof

the crime scene, but thereweren’t any clearimpressions.”“How about the W in

Max’sappointmentbook?Doyouhaveanyleadsonthat?”Bill shook his head and

held out hismug for a refill.“I went through all the files,but there weren’t any Wnames.Andwedon’tknowiftheW is a last name, a firstname, or a nickname. Oncewegeta suspect,wecanuse

itaspartofthecircumstantialevidence, but it’s pretty hardtonarrowdownnow.”The phone rang and

Hannah reached out toanswer it. “The Cookie Jar.ThisisHannah.”“Hannah.I’mgladIcaught

you.ThisisNorman.”“Hi, Norman.” Hannah

frowned slightly. She didn’twant to get involved inanother lengthy phoneconversationwhen thismight

beher only chance to talk toBillallday.“What’sup?”“Idevelopedthefilmofthe

party.Icanbringintheprintsatnoonifyou’llbethere.”“I work here. Where else

wouldIbe?”Themomentthewords had left her mouth,Hannah realized that she’dbeentooabrupt.Normanwasonlytryingtobenice.AndifNorman came in at noon,she’dbeable togivehimhismother’s loanpapers.“Sorry,

Norman. I’m really in a rushhere.I’llseeyouatnoonandI’ll save a couple ofmybestcookiesforyou.”WhenHannahhungup,she

noticed that Bill wasgrinning.“What?”“DidNorman just ask you

outonanotherdate?”“No,hejustwantstoshow

me the pictures from theparty.” Hannah decided tochangethesubjectfast.Bill’sexpressionwas a lot like her

mother’s when she playedmatchmaker. “Norman’s justafriend,sogetthatidearightout of your head. Tell memoreaboutthisnewdetectivefrom Minneapolis. I don’tevenknowhisname.”“MikeKingston.Italkedto

hisformerpartnerandhesaysthatMike’sagreatcopandareallyniceguy.”“You haven’t met him

yet?”Bill shook his head. “No,

but I saw his picture in thepersonnelfile.Helookslikeaniceguy.Itoldyouabouthiswife,didn’tI?”“You said she died and

that’swhyhewantedtomovehere.”“Well, I found out more.

Shewasanurseandshewasshot on her way home fromHennepin County General.Two rival gangsmixed it upand she got caught in thecrossfire. But that’s not the

worst of it. She was fourmonths pregnant with theirfirstbaby.”“That’s awful!” Hannah

shivered. “Did theycatch theshooter?”“Of course they did. They

hadthewholesquadworkingon it. But the first time theytried him, he got off on atechnicality. Somebodymessed up with a searchwarrant, and the judge threwthecaseoutofcourt.”

“They tried him a secondtime?” Hannah didn’tunderstand what Bill wassaying. Wasn’t that doublejeopardy?“They nailed him on a

different murder. Mike andhis partner worked the casethemselves. They made surethat everything was done bythe book and they got aconviction.Theguy’sdoingalifesentencewithnoparole.”“That’sgood.ButIbetthis

MikeKingstonisgoingtobea real stickler for policeprocedure.”“Soundslikeit.He’sgoing

tobemynewsupervisorandI’m really going to have towatch it around him.Andrea’sgoingtohelpmegooverallmyreportstonighttomakesurethey’reperfect.”“I’ll help, too, if you need

me,”Hannahofferedquickly.“Whendoeshestart?”“First thing Monday

morning. He already rentedanapartmentandhedrovehisU-Haul down early thismorning. I’m off tomorrow,and I’m going to help himmovein.”Hannah couldn’t resist

teasing him a little. “Youfigure thathaulingboxesandlifting a few brewskistogether will help yourworkingrelationship?”“It can’t hurt.Whenwe’re

through,we’regoingtocome

backtomyplacefordinner.”“Andrea is cooking?”

Hannah’s eyebrows shot up.Hersisterwastheonlypersonshe knewwho couldn’t evenmakedecentinstantcoffee.“No way!” Bill chuckled.

“We’re sending out forpizzas.Why don’t you driveout and join us? You don’thave anything else going fortomorrownight,doyou?”“Well,Iwasplanningto..

.” Hannah’s mind spun into

overdrive, searching for anexcuse.“Comeon,Hannah.Maybe

you can get some insightsinto his character and passthemalongtome.”Bill put on the look that

Hannah had never been ableto resist—the one sheprivately called beggingbassethound.Shegavealongsigh and then she caved in.“Okay.I’llbringdessert.”“Thanks, Hannah.” Bill

looked properly grateful.“Just make sure you don’tmention the case. I don’twant Mike to know that Irecruited a civilian to helpme.”“Don’t worry. I won’t say

anything.”Bill headed toward the

door.Hewasabouttoopenitwhenheturnedtogrinather.“I forgot to tell you thatDelores is coming outtomorrownight.Shewantsto

meetMike.”Hannah’seyesnarrowedas

the door closed behind Bill.Thingswerebeginningtoaddup. There was the remarkDeloreshadmadeabouthowHannah wouldn’t be able toattract any man except ahomicidedetectiveifshekepton findingbodies.TherewasthewaythatBillhadtoldherallaboutMike’sbackground,paintinghimasamanwithadeep sorrow that was bound

to tug at any woman’sheartstrings.Addedtoallthatwas the way that Bill hadpracticallybeggedhertojointhem for pizza so that shecould pass along any usefulinsights into Mike’scharacter.Right.Sure.Hannah sighed deeply and

marched over to turn the“Closed”signto“Open.”Billhadsetherupandhe’ddoneit like a pro. Therewas onlyoneconclusionthatshecould

draw. Bill had been taking acrash course inmatchmakingfromhiswifeandhismother-in-law.

ChapterTwenty-Two

Two minutes after she’dflipped the sign to “Open,”Hannah’s regulars began tocome in.Shechatted,poured

coffee, and fetched cookiesfor twosolidhourswithoutabreak. The news had leakedout and everyone she servedwanted to know what sheknew about Max’s murderandhowitrelatedtoRon’s.“Doyouthinkit’sthesame

killer, Hannah?” BertieStraub lookedanxiousas shemunchedaMolassesCrackle.She’dwalkeddown from theCut ’n Curl to get the latestnews for her blue-haired

customers, who weregossipingunder thegleamingmetalheadsofthedryers.“It’s got to be.Howcould

wehavetwokillersinatownthesizeofLakeEden?”“Did you discover Max’s

body?” Bertie lowered hervoice and glanced around tomake sure no one waslistening. “You can tell me,Hannah. I promise I won’trepeatittoasoul.”Hannah had all she could

do to keep a solemnexpression. Telling Bertiewould be tantamount tocallingKCOW’stalklineandbroadcastingitovertheradiowaves.“Ican’tsayyesorno,Bertie.Allthefactsareapartoftheongoinginvestigation.”“Youdid! Ican tellby the

look on your face!” Bertiegave a theatrical shiver andHannah wondered if she’djoined The Lake EdenPlayers. “Was it terrible,

Hannah?”“It’s always terrible when

someone loses his life.”Hannah parroted anotherpolite phrase, the same oneshe’d used countless timesthismorning.“They’ll catch him soon,

won’tthey?IswearIhaven’tslept a wink since I heardabout Ron. To think thatthere’s a killer out thereamongus!”“I’msuretheywill,Bertie.

Bill’s on the case and he’s averygooddetective.”Hannah was saved further

questioning by the arrival ofLisa,bearingmorecookiesona tray. Lisa took one look ather employer’s frustratedexpression and winked.“Yourmother’sonthephone,Hannah, and she says it’surgent.Why don’t you catchthe phone in back? It’squieter there.And take somecoffeewithyou.”

“I’ve got to run, Bertie.”Hannah shot Lisa a thankfullook, filled her mug withcoffee, and headed offthrough the swinging door.She’d answered so manyquestions, her head wasspinning, and it was onlyeleveninthemorning.Shewas about to sit down

on a stool at thework islandwhenthephonerang.Hannahgrabbed it up before shecould think better of it, and

she heard her mother’sexcitedvoice.“Hannah?Areyouthere?”“Yes, Mother.” Hannah

took a slug of her coffee.“Youmustbepsychic.”“What,dear?”“Never mind. What can I

doforyou?”“Have you seen the

pictures Carrie took at theWoodleys’partyyet?”“Notyet.”Hannahglanced

upattheclock.“Normansaid

he’d bring them over atnoon.”“Well, you’re in for a

pleasantsurprise.There’soneof you that’s very nice. Youdon’tlooklikeyourselfatall.Norman promised to makemeaneightbytentoputinaframe.”Hannah had all she could

do not to laugh. She lookednice? Not like herself at all?Leave it toagirl’smother todestroyherconfidence.

“I’vegottorush,dear.I’mjust on my way out, but Iwantedtocallyoufirst.”“Thanks, Mother. I’ll talk

toyoulater.”Hannahgroanedas she hung up the phone.Maybe she should acceptLisa’sadviceandtaketherestof the day off. She’d alreadyheard all there was to hearfrom her customers. She’dstickaroundtoseethat“nice”pictureofher and then she’dgo home and concentrate on

the important things. If shereallyworkedhard,shemightbeabletosolveBill’smurdercase before Mike Kingstoncameonboard.“What do you think,

Hannah?” Norman watchedher as she paged through theprints he’d brought. “Thatone on top is your mother’sfavorite.”Hannah sighed, staring

down at the print. Her eyeswere half-closed, her smilewas crooked, and her hairstuck up over her left ear.“It’s not exactly the bestpictureofmeI’veeverseen.”“I know,” Norman

sympathized. “There’s amuch better one of you, butmy mother managed to cutoffyourleftarm.”“Let me see.” Andrea

reached for the print. She’dcome in, about five minutes

ago,withTracey.Hannah watched while

Andreastudied theprint.Shecouldtell,bythelittlelineofconcentration between hersister’seyes,thatAndreawastrying to think of somethingnicetosay.Itmusthavebeena struggle because it tookAndreaatleastthirtysecondsto react. “You look a littlethinner than you usually do.And your dress looksbeautiful.”

“I think Aunt Hannahlooks pretty.” Tracey smiledupatHannah.“Maybenotaspretty as right now, but stillpretty.”“Diplomatic Corps.”

Hannah winked at Andrea.“Traceyshowsrealpromise.”Andrea laughed and held

out her hand. “Let’s see therest.”Hannah glanced down at

thenextpicture.ItwasoneofAndrea and Bill, and they

both looked fabulous in theirformal clothing. Andrea wasamazingly photogenic, whilepictures of Hannah alwaysreminded her of the “before”photosinmakeupads.They went through the

prints one by one, HannahhandingthemtoAndreaaftershe’d seen them. Thankfully,her customers were settledwith their coffee and theircookiesandnoonerushedupto the counter to interrupt

them. Hannah came to theone that Norman hadmentioned and she did lookbetter.Shewas sittingon thecouch with Norman standingbehind her, and it was just apity thather leftarmwasoutof the frame. Norman’smother had managed tocenter the picture so badlythat almost half of the photowastakenupbytheendtablenexttothecouch.Hannahwasabout tohand

ittoAndreawhenshenoticeda stack of books and paperson the table. There was awhite folder on top of thestackandithadredlettering.Sheheld it closer, squinted alittle, and read the words:“Compacts Unlimited.” Oneof the Woodleys had rentedthekindofcarthatMr.Harrishad seen pulling out of theCozy Cow driveway on themorningofthemurders!“What’s the matter,

Hannah?” Andrea caught theshockedexpression thatmusthaveflittedacrossherface.“Nothing, but I really like

this one.” Hannah turned toNorman and asked, “Can Ikeepit?”“Sure. But why do you

wantthatone?”Hannah thought fast. She

couldn’t go wrong appealingto Norman’s vanity. “It’s averygoodpictureofyou.”“It is?” Norman leaned

over to examine the print. “Idon’tthinkso.”“ButIdo.I’dreallyliketo

haveit,Norman.”Normantookthephotoand

examined it with a criticaleye. “Let me reprint it foryou.Icandosometrickswiththe negative in mydarkroom.”“No,it’sjustfine.”Hannah

snatched thephotooutofhishands.“Ilikeitjustthewayitis.”

Andreastaredather.“Youwant to keep the one withyourarmcutoff?”“If itwasgoodenoughfor

Venus, it’s good enough forme.”Hannahshothersisterawarninglook.“I could center it

differently, cut off that table,and enlarge it to a head shotof the two of us,” Normansuggested. “If I can do that,wouldyoulikeit?”“Of course I would. But I

want to keep this oneanyway.”Norman just shrugged and

turned to Andrea. “Howabout you? Would you likecopiesofanything?”“I’d love to have these.”

Andrea handed him twoprints.The bell over the door

tinkled and Sheriff Grantwalked in, followed by themost intimidating hunk ofman that Hannah had ever

laideyeson.Hewastall,wellover six feet, and he hadreddish blond hair, piercingblueeyes,andamustache.Helookedasfitasanathleteandonlythedeeplinesinhisfacekept him from beingclassically handsome. Therewas a buzz of conversationfrom the customers at thetables and Hannah couldunderstand why. He was thebest-lookingman to hit LakeEdeninamonthofSundays.

“It’shim!”Andreanudgedher.“That’sMikeKingston.”“Iknow.”Hannahgrinned.

Her sister had stated theobvious. Mike Kingston waswithSheriffGrant.Who elsecouldhebe?“Hannah.” Sheriff Grant

strode over to the counter.“ThisisMikeKingston.He’llbe joining the department onMonday.”Hannah swallowed hard.

She’d never been

uncomfortable around menbefore, but Mike Kingstonwas an exception. Themoment she’d seen him, herpulse had quickened and shefound she couldn’t meet hiseyes.Shetookadeepbreath,willedhervoicetobesteady,and said, “I’m glad to meetyouDeputyKingston.”“Mike.”His voice was deep and

warm, and it matched hissize. Hannah felt a purely

physical reaction she hadn’texperienced since her two-timing professor had invitedher to his apartment. Sheturnedquicklytoperformtheintroductions,prayingthatnoone would guess what effectjust being in the same roomwith Mike Kingston washaving on her. “This is mysister, Andrea Todd, andhere’smyniece,Tracey.Andthis is Norman Rhodes. Hejust took over his father’s

dental practice in town. Iknowyou’reinahurry,soI’lljustzipinbackandgetthosecookiesforyou.”As Mike Kingston turned

to shake hands with Andreaand Norman, Hannah madeher escape to the bakery.Once she was safely behindthe swinging door, sheduckedintothebathroomandsplashed some coldwater onherface.IfjustmeetingMikeKingstonwas thismuchof a

jolt, how was she going tohandle their pizza dinnertomorrow night when she’dactuallyhavetotalktohim?Never one to run away

from a problem, Hannahdecided that there was notime like the present toconfront it. Mike Kingstonwould think that she wascrazy if she ducked into adifferent room every time hecame into The Cookie Jar.She marched out of the

bathroom, picked up the boxof the Black and Whites forthe open house, and pushedback through the swingingdoortothefrontofhershop.Mike Kingston turned to

smile at her and Hannah’sbreath caught in her throat.Shehopedshewasn’tstaringathimlikea teenagegroupiewho’dcomefacetofacewithherfavoriterockstar.“It’s really nice of you to

bake these cookies for us,

Hannah. Sheriff Grant saidthatyoudoiteveryyear.”“I do.” Hannah was

relieved. He didn’t seem tohave noticed how flusteredshewasandthatwasgood.“Icater your summer picnic,too. It’s a bring-your-own-steak barbecue out at EdenLakeandIprovidelemonadeandcookies.”“That sounds good.

There’s nothing like abarbecueoutatthelake.”

“We’d better get going,Mike.”SheriffGrant turned to his

newest protégé, and Hannahcould see the admiration inhis eyes. He had to look up.Mike Kingston was at leastsix three, and Sheriff Grantwas agood four inches shortof the six-foot mark. Thenewest member of theWinnetka County Sheriff’sDepartment made Hannahfeel petite, and she’d never

feltpetitebeforeinherlife.“Seeyoulater,Hannah.”Mike Kingston gave her a

waveandHannahsmiled.Heseemed perfectly nice. Shehad nothing against himpersonally. But she wasprepared to despise him ifBilldidn’tgethispromotion.“Nice to meet you,

Norman.” Mike nodded toNormanandthenheturnedtoAndrea.“I’mlookingforwardto working with your

husband,Andrea.”“That’smydaddy,”Tracey

pipedup.“I know.” Mike Kingston

leaned down and whisperedsomethinginTracey’sear.As Hannah watched, her

niece’s eyes widened andthen she gave a delightedgiggle.“Really?”“Ipromise.”Mikenodded.

“But it’s a secret untiltomorrow night. I’ll bring itthen.”

The minute the door hadclosed behind them, Andreaturned to Tracey. “What didhesay?”“I can’t tell you.” Tracey

was all smiles. “You heardhim say it was a secret. Butyou’ll find out tomorrownight when we have thepizza.”Andreaexchangedaglance

with Hannah. She seemedpleasedthatherdaughterhadgotten along so well with

Bill’s new supervisor. “I’vegot to run, Hannah. I’mtakinga loadof thingsout toLuanne, and Tracey’s goingto help me. And then we’regoingouttotheopenhouseatthesheriff’sstation.”“I’ve got to leave, too. I

have a patient in twentyminutes.” Norman reachedinto his pocket, pulled out astack of business cards, andhanded them to Hannah.“Theseareforyou.”

Hannah took thecardsandbegan to smile. They wereperfect,andNormanhadevenprinted little cookies aroundtheborder.“Thanks,Norman.They’rewonderful.”“Icanprintoutmoreifyou

needthem.”“Let’s hope I do. Hold on

just a second.” Hannahopened the cash register anddrewoutthemanilaenvelopewithhismother’sloanpapersinside. “Here, Norman. This

isforyou.”“Forme?”Norman looked

puzzled as she handed it tohim.“It’s something I came

across the other night. Justopenitwhenyougetbacktothe office. There’s a noteinsideexplainingeverything.”Hannah breathed a deep

sigh of relief as they all lefttogether.Shehadwork todoanditdidn’thaveanythingtodo with baking, selling, or

servingcookies.Shegrabbedthe print she’d taken fromNormanandheadedofftotheback room to tell Lisa thatshewasgoing to takeherupon her offer to stay untilclosing. She had people tosee,calls tomake,and if shegot lucky, shemight be ableto solve Bill’s double-homicidecasebeforeMondaymorning.

ChapterTwenty-Three

Hannah pushed open hercondodoorandcaughtaflashoforangeoutofthecornerof

her eye. Moishe had justjumped down fromhis perchonthetopofthetelevisionsetandhelookedaboutasguiltyas a cat could look. Sheglanced at the screen andrealizedthatanatureprogramwas on—one that wasrunning footageofa flockofflamingos flapping theirbrightpinkwings.“Thosebirdsarefourtimes

your size, Moishe.” Hannahgavehima scratchunder the

chintolethimknowthatshewasn’t angry. When she’dunlocked the door, her fiercefeline hunter had been in theprocess of hanging over thetop of the set to bat at thebirdswithhispaw.Once she’d switched off

the enticing flamingos andhung up her jacket, Hannahwalked out to the kitchen tofill Moishe’s food bowl. Ofcourse it was empty. It wasalways empty. Moishe’s

favorite activities when shewas gone were eating andnapping.Therewere threemessages

on her answering machine.The first was from herdownstairs neighbor, SuePlotnik, asking if she couldservecookiesatherMommyand Me class next week.Hannah penciled it in on herkitchen calendar; she’dtransfer it to the one at TheCookie Jarwhenshewent in

onMonday.Thenshelistenedtohersecondmessage.Itwasfrom a man who identifiedhimself as Robert CollinsfromHideawayResorts,whoinvited her to acomplimentary dinner forprospective timeshareinvestors at a hotel inMinneapolis. Hannah didn’tbothertowritedownhistoll-freenumber.The third message made

Hannah perk up her ears. It

wasfromBillandhetoldherthat he just wanted to keepheruptospeed.Themanagerfrom Compacts Unlimitedhad contacted him thismorning.Sinceshestilldidn’thavetheprintout,she’dcalledalltheirothercarlotsandoneof themhad handled a rentalfor a customer with a LakeEden address. Boyd Watsonhad rented a black compactfrom their St. Paul lot onTuesday.

Naturally,Billhadcheckedit out. He’d called theprincipal, Mr. Purvis, andhe’d found out that CoachWatson had been attending astatewide coaching clinic atthe time. Since Boyd hadn’tcomebacktotownuntilnoononWednesday,thatruledhimoutasapossiblesuspect.Hannah’s forehead

furrowed as she pouredherself a glass of Diet Cokeand carried it into the living

room. When Maryann hadsaid that she’d driven toMinneapolis to go shoppingwith Boyd, she’d assumedthatMaryannhadpickedhimup and they’d gone to theMall of America together.But Maryann had said thatshe’dmet her brother at themall.Boydmusthavehadhisrental car by then. But whywould Coach Watson go tothe trouble and expense ofrenting a car for less than

twenty-four hours when hissister was coming to meethim? It just didn’t makesense.Shesighedandreachedout

to pet Moishe, who’dforsakenhisfooddishforthesoftcushionofthecouchandher company. Had CoachWatson been behind thewheel of the black compactthat Mr. Harris had seenroaringoutof theCozyCowdriveway?The timetablewas

tight, but itwaspossible thatBoyd had left before dawn,while Maryann and hismotherwere still asleep, anddriventoLakeEden.HislastnamebeganwithaW,andhecould have been the one tomeet Max. If Maryann andher mother had slept untilnine, Boyd might have hadtime to shoot both Max andRonandgetbackbeforetheywoke up. But what possiblemotive could Coach Watson

haveforkillingMax?Hannah thought back to

everything that she’d learnedabouttheWatsons.Danielle’sring had cost a thousanddollars and the dress she’dworn to theWoodleys’ partyhad sold for over fivehundred. Boyd and Daniellelived in a very expensivehouse, and Danielle didn’twork.BoyddroveanewJeepGrand Cherokee, andDanielle had a new Lincoln.

How could Coach Watsonafford to maintain theirexpensive lifestyle on ateacher’ssalary?“Boyd got a personal loan

from Max!” Hannahexclaimed,causingMoishetorear back and stare at her.“Sorry,Moishe.Ididn’tmeanto shout, but it’s the onlythingthatmakessense.Thereweren’t any loan papers forhim, but the safe was openand he would have taken

themrightafterheshotMax.And then he killed Ronbecause Ron had seen himwithMax!”Moisheturnedtogivehera

long, level look and then hehopped off the couch andpaddedintothekitchentohisfood bowl. He yowled once,calling for her to get out thekitty crunchies, and Hannahwent off to comply. Moishewas the most intelligent catshe’d ever met. He was

waiting for her to fill up hisfood bowl because he knewthatshehadtoleaveagain.Danielle opened the door

several inches, but no wider.“Hi,Hannah.I...uh...I’mbusy right now. Could youcomebackalittlelater?”“No.”Hannahwedged her

foot into the crack. “It’simportant, Danielle. Is Boydhome?”

“No,he’snot.He’sgot...football practice . . . at theschool.”“Good. That’ll give us

sometimealone.Wehavetotalk,Danielle.”“ButI...Ihavetoputon

somemakeup. Iwas just . . .uh. . . takinganapand. . .”Danielle’s voice trailed offand she gave a little sob.“Please,Hannah.Idon’twantyoutoseemelikethis.”Hannah made one of her

instant decisions. Right orwrong, she was coming in.Never one to dither onceshe’dmadeuphermind, shesimply pushed Danielle backandsteppedinside.“Oh, Hannah!” Danielle’s

handsflewuptoherface,butnot before Hannah hadspottedherblackeyeandthered welts in the shape of ahandprint across her leftcheek.“Good God, Danielle!”

Hannah reached out to shutthe door. “What happened toyou?”“I...uh...I—”“Never mind,” Hannah

interrupted what was boundto be some sort of hastilyfabricated story. “Come on.Let’s get some ice on yourface.”“Idon’thaveany.”“I’ll find something.”

Hannahtookherarmandledherintothekitchen.“Areyou

surehe’snotcomingback?”Danielle managed to look

even more embarrassed.“Who?The...intruder?”“Your husband.” Hannah

opened the freezer andrummaged around forsomethingthatwouldworkasanicepack.“Youdon’thavetopretendwithme,Danielle.Iknowhebeatyouup.”“Howdoyouknowthat?”One of Danielle’s eyes

opened wide in surprise, but

theotherwasalmost swollenshut. Hannah drew out apackage of frozen peas,whacked it against thecounter to loosen thecontents,andhandedittoher,along with the kitchen towelthat was draped over thehandle of the stove. “Sitdown at the table. Wrap thepeas in the towel and hold itup to your eye. I’ll getanotheroneforyourcheek.”“Thank you, Hannah.”

Danielle sank down in achair. “This is allmy fault. Iforgottofilluptheicetrays.”Hannah pulled out another

package of frozen peas andwrapped it in a clean towelfrom the drawer. She held itup to Danielle’s cheek andsighed deeply. “It’s not yourfault. Hold that with yourotherhandandtellmewhereyoukeepthecoffee.”“Idon’thaveany.Iranout

and I forgot to buy more.

That’swhyBoydgotsomadatme.”Hannahbristled.Therehad

been a couple of morningswhen she thought she mightkill for a cup of coffee, butshe hadn’t really meant itliterally.“Howabouttea?”“I’vegotsome instant. It’s

in the cupboard over thestove.Andthere’sahotwaterspigot on our Sparklettesdispenser.”Hannah found two cups,

spooned in instant tea and agenerous helping of sugar,andfilledthemwithsteamingwaterfromthedispenser.Shecarried one over to Danielleand set hers down on theother side of the table.Hannah didn’t like tea, butthatdidn’tmatter.Sharingteagave them a common bond.“Letmelookatyourcheek.”“It feels better.” Danielle

removed the towel andmanaged a small smile. “I

never even thought aboutusing frozen peas before. Iguess it’s truewhen theysaythat vegetables are good foryou.”Danielle’s sad attempt at

humormadeHannahseered.Daniellehadsaidshe’dneverthought about using frozenpeas before. This obviouslywasn’t the first time thatCoach Watson had batteredhis wife. Hannah thoughtabout trying to convince

Danielle to press charges, orofferingheradviceabouthowshe could get out of herabusive situation, but thatcould wait until later. Rightnow she had to find out ifBoyd Watson was amurderer, as well as a wifebeater.“It looks a lot better,”

Hannah assured her. “Havesome tea and then hold itthere for another couple ofminutes.”

Daniellenoddedandtookasipofher tea.“Youputa lotofsugarin.”“Sugar’s good for shock.”

Hannah retrieved the bag ofBlack and White cookiesshe’d brought in from hertruck. “Have a cookie.They’rechocolate.”Danielle reached for a

cookie and nibbled at it.“Thesearegood,Hannah.”“Thanks. Do you have a

headache?”

“It’s not a concussion,Hannah. I know thesymptoms.”I’ll bet you do! Hannah

thought. If she rememberedcorrectly, Danielle had beenin the hospital several timesin the past—once for abrokenlegandothertimesforless serious injuries. She’dalways claimed that she’dbeenclumsyandfallenontheice, or broken somethingskiing, or been in a boat

accident while she wasfishing with her husband.Hannah remembered hersister’s comment aboutDanielle’s clothes and howthey always covered hercompletely.Thatshouldhaveset off alarm bells inHannah’s mind, especiallysinceLuannehadalreadytoldher that Danielle usedtheatrical makeup for facialblemishes. The only thingthat erupted on Danielle

Watson’s face was herhusband’sbadtemper!Danielle took another sip

of her tea and then held theimprovised ice pack back uptohercheek.“Youwon’ttellanyone about this, will you,Hannah?”“You don’t have to worry

about that,” Hannahpromised, evading a directanswer. She certainlywouldn’tgossipabout it, andthatwasreallywhatDanielle

hadmeant.“Ifyoueverwanttotalktoanyoneaboutit,I’mhere. All you have to do iscallmeorjumpinthecarandcome over. I’ve got a guestroom and you can use itanytime you need to getaway.”“Thankyou,Hannah.”There would never be a

better opportunity andHannah seized it. “There’ssomething else, Danielle. Ifyouwanttopresscharges,I’ll

helpyou.”“No, I could never do

that!”It was the answer that

Hannah had expected. Sheknew that most batteredwomen mistakenly protectedtheirabusers,atleastuntiltheproblem got so severe thatsomeoneelsenoticed.UnlessDanielle pressed charges, orsomeone actually saw CoachWatsonhittingDanielle,therewas nothing that the

authorities could do. Hannahdecided she’d give it onemore try and then move on.“If you press charges, Boydwillgetsomehelp.”“Whatkindofhelp?”“Counseling, anger-

management workshops, thatsortof thing.”Hannahhopedthe disdain she felt didn’tshow in her voice or on herface.Toherwayof thinking,mandatory sessions with acounselorweremerelyaslap

on the wrist for chronicabusers.Anyonewho causedthe physical damage thatCoachWatsonhadmetedoutto Danielle should have tosuffer the full consequencesofthelaw.“Boyd’s already getting

counseling.”“Heis?”Hannahwantedto

make a crack about what apoor counselor Boyd musthave,butshedidn’t.“It’sreallyalotbetternow.

Boyd’s only hit me oncesinceschoolstarted.”“Counting today?”Hannah

couldn’tresistasking.“No,buthe’sunderalotof

pressure with his footballteam. They’ve lost threestraight.”So what does Boyd say to

his team? Hannahwondered.If youboysdon’tmake thosetouchdowns, I’m going to gohomeandsmackmywife?“He’s always sorry, after.

Really, he is. He actuallybrokedown in tearswhenhesawwhat he did tomy face.And then hewent straight tothe phone to put in anemergency call to hiscounselor.That’swhereheisnow.Ididn’twanttotellyoubefore, so I made up thatexcuse about footballpractice. Boyd drove all thewaydowntoSt.Paulbecausehefeltsoguilty.”Hannah’s ears perked up.

Boyd had rented theCompacts Unlimited car inSt. Paul. “Does Boyd see acounselorinSt.Paul?”“He goes to The Holland

Center,”Daniellepronouncedthenamewithreverence.Shelooked as proud as anyonecould with one black eyecovered by a package offrozen peas. “It’s the best inthe state and he sees Dr.Frederick Holland, the headcounselor and founder.

You’ve probably seen hisname in the papers. He’sdone some wonderful workwithserialrapists.”NothingHannahwanted to

sayseemedappropriatebutitdidn’t seem to matter. ThedamhadbrokenandDaniellewantedtotalk.“We almost got a divorce

lastspring.Boydjustcouldn’tseem to control himself, andDr. Holland thought we’dhave to split up. But Boyd

said he’d just try harder, andit’sworked.”Hannah glanced at

Danielle’s face again. If thiswas trying harder, she wasglad she hadn’t seen theresults of Boyd’s formerabuses.Daniellewasgoingtohave a shiner the size of theGrand Canyon. “Isn’t thatkindoftherapyexpensive?”“Yes, but Boyd’s medical

insurance covers eightypercent. It’s the one through

the teachers’ union andthey’re verygood about that.Dr. Holland bills it asoccupation-related stresscounseling. It would be tooembarrassing for Boydotherwise.”“Iguessitwould.”Hannah

did her best to keep thesarcasmoutofhervoice.Godforbid that the wife beatershouldbeembarrassed!“When you rang the

doorbell,yousaidyouwanted

to talk to me. Is it aboutRon’smurderagain?OrwhathappenedtoMaxTurner?”Hannah assumed that

Danielle wanted to changethesubject,andthatwasfinewithher.Asamatterof fact,itwasperfect.Sheneeded toknow more about Boyd’srental car. “I’m just clearingup some loose ends. HasBoydrentedacarlately?”“Yes.” Danielle looked

surprised. “How did you

knowaboutthat?”Hannah thought fast.“You

toldmethatyoudroveouttothe casino in Boyd’s JeepCherokee and I just assumedthat he rented a car for thetrip.”“But that’s not exactly

what happened, Hannah.Boyd rode to Minneapoliswithanothercoach,butwhenhedecidedtostayovertoseeDr. Holland, he rented acompactforaday.Hehadan

appointment on Wednesdaymorning and he couldn’t askMaryann to drive him. Boyddoesn’t want her to knowanythingabouthisproblem.”“Of course not.” Hannah

gave the appropriateresponse.“It was an early

appointment, seven in themorning,” Danielle went on.“That was the only time Dr.Hollandcouldworkhim intohis schedule. Boyd had to

leave his mother’s house atsixtogetthereontime.”“Didn’t Maryann notice

that he was gone when shegotup?”“Yes, but he told her that

hewas going to get up earlyandgooutfordoughnuts.Hismother just loves doughnuts.Boydbroughtthembackwithhim after he saw Dr.Holland.”Boyd’s appointment could

be verifiedwith a phone call

andHannahdecidedshe’ddoit the minute that she gothome. “Did Boyd everborrow money from MaxTurner?”“From Max?” Danielle

frowned. “I don’t think so.Why?”“I’m going to tell you

something, but you have topromise not to mention it,Danielle.NoteventoBoyd.”“All right,” Danielle

agreed, but she looked a bit

uneasy.“Whatisit?”“Maxlentmoneytoquitea

fewpeopleinLakeEdenandoneofthoseloansmighthavesomething to do with hisdeath.Why did you say youdidn’t think Boyd hadborrowedfromhim?”“Because Boyd doesn’t

need to borrowmoneywhenhe’s got mine. You mustknowwhat teachersarepaid,Hannah. We could neverafford to live on Boyd’s

salary alone. We bought thecars and the house andpractically everything wehavewithmymoney.”Hannah’s eyebrows shot

ceilingward. This was asurprise development. “Whatmoneyisthat?”“The money I inherited

frommyuncle. Iwasalwayshis favorite and he left it tome.He put it in a trust fundand I get a lump sum everyyear.”

“And that’s why you canaffordalltheseluxuries?”“That’s right. When I get

my lump sum in January, Igive Boyd half and mymother invests the rest forme. We’ve done really wellon the stockmarket, andDr.Holland thinks that’s part ofBoyd’s problem. It’s verydifficultforastrongmalelikeBoyd to be married to awomanwhomakesalotmoremoneythanhedoes.”

“I suppose it is.” Hannahsettledforasafecomment.“That’s the reason I keep

my inheritance a secret,”Danielle confided. “Dr.HollandsaysthatBoyd’segois too fragile and he’d betempted to strike out evenmoreifhisfriendsknew.Youwon’tmentionit,willyou?”“Absolutely not,” Hannah

agreed quickly. She couldimagine the damage thatBoyd would inflict on his

wife if theword got out thatDanielle was supportingthem.Hemight even borrowa page from the storybookandkillthegoosethatlaidthegoldenegg.

ChapterTwenty-Four

“I know it’s confusing,”Hannahtriedtoexplainasshewalked back into her condo.It was clear by his startledexpressionthatMoishedidn’tknow what to make of her

comings and goings today.“I’ve come back to make afewphonecalls.Whatdoyousay I keep you busy with adishoficecream?”Moishe rubbed against her

ankles as Hannah pulled acarton of French vanilla outof the freezer and scoopedsome intoadessertdish.Shecarried it out to the livingroom, set it down on thecoffee table, and patted thesurface.Moishedidn’tneeda

second invitation. Heapproached the dish, sniffedat the mound of icy white,andthentasteditwiththetipof his tongue.The coldmusthave surprised him becausehedrewbacktostareatit,butthat didn’t stop him fromgoingbackforasecondlick.While Moishe was busy

exploring this intriguing newfoodstuff, Hannah floppeddown on the couch andreached for the phone. She

had to call Dr. Holland toconfirm that Boyd Watsonhad kept his appointment onWednesdaymorning.Fiveminuteslater,Hannah

had her answer. She’dpretended to be a medicalclaims adjuster and she’dasked Dr. Holland’sreceptionisttoverifythetimeof the appointment. Thereceptionist had told her thatMr. Watson had seen Dr.Holland at seven in the

morning and that hisappointment had lasted theusualfiftyminutes.“I don’t know whether I

should be relieved, ordisappointed,” Hannahconfided to her felineroommate. Boyd Watsonwasn’t the killer and he wasfree to batter Daniellewheneverhefelttheurge.But there was still that

photoof the rental car folderinthesnapshotthatNorman’s

mother had taken. AndWoodley also started with aW. Hannah went to thekitchen to fetch herselfanother Diet Coke andthought about the rental carthatsomeoneintheWoodleyhousehold had used. Shedidn’t think thateitherJudithor Del would have rented anondescript black compact,not when they had a wholegaragefullofluxuryvehiclestochoosefrom.Buttherewas

Benton and his namewouldn’thave raisedany redflags for the manager atCompacts Unlimited becausehisdriver’slicensewouldstillshow his East Coastresidence.Bentoncouldhaverentedacompactcar todrivefrom the airport to LakeEden. He’d told Andrea andBill that he’d taken theshuttle, but that didn’tnecessarilymeanitwastrue.Hannah picked up the

phoneandgotthenumberforthe shuttle service at theMinneapolis airport. Therewasonlyone shuttle that ranto Lake Eden and that madeher job a little easier. Shepunched out the number oftheir airport office andrehearsedwhatshewouldsayto get the information sheneeded. She’d picked up anew skill by listening toAndreaonthephonewiththehotel clerk at the

Buttermakers’ Convention. Itwaspossibletogetallsortsofinformation if the person ontheotherendofthelinereallywantedtohelpyou.“On-Time Shuttle Service.

ThisisTammispeaking.”Hannah winced at the

insipidlycheerfulvoice.Whydid companies always hiregirls who sounded as if theyshould be working atDisneyland? “Hi, Tammi. Ireally need your help. My

boss,Mr.Woodley, took theshuttle to Lake Eden onWednesday afternoon and hecan’t find his briefcase. Heasked me to try to locate itand I’m wondering if yourdriver happened to find it ontheshuttlebus?”“I don’t think so. Our

drivers check for lost itemsaftereveryrunandthere’snobriefcase in our lost-and-foundbin.”“Uh-oh,”Hannah groaned,

hoping that she soundeddismayed. “Is it possible thatsomeone at your officemailed it to him and it justhasn’tgottenhereyet?”“Wedon’t usually do that,

butacoupleofourdriversarehererightnowandIcanask.Wouldthathavebeenthetwoo’clock, four o’clock, or sixo’clockshuttle?”That stumped Hannah

completely,butsherecoveredquickly.“Ishouldhaveasked

Mr.Woodley,buthejust leftand I didn’t think of it. Isthere some way that youcouldcheckforme?”“No problem. The

passenger’s name wasWoodley?”“That’s right,” Hannah

said, and spelled it out forher.“BentonWoodley.”“I’ll have to put you on

hold. Just amoment please.”Therewasabriefsilenceandthen music spewed out from

the little holes on thereceiver. It sounded like thechorus from “It’s a SmallWorld,” and Hannah was inthe process of wonderingwhether Tammi had chosenthe song when her cheerfulvoice came back on the line.“Mr. Benton Woodley wasour passenger on the twoo’clock shuttle. I checkedwiththedriver,buthesaidhedidn’t find anything except apen and a monogrammed

handkerchief. Maybe youshould check with theairlines?”“Good idea. Thanks,

Tammi. I really appreciateyour help.” Hannah hung upthe phone and thought aboutwhat she’d learned. Moishejumped up on her lap andstarted to lick her arm withhis raspy tongue.He seemedto sense that she was upsetand hewas doing his best tocomfort her. Hannah stroked

him absently and thoughtabout the times of themurders.ThefactthatBentonhad taken the two o’clockshuttledidn’t rulehimoutasthe killer. He could haveflown in the night before,rented a car from CompactsUnlimited,andmadearound-triptoLakeEdentokillMaxandRon.Ifhe’dreturnedthecar to theairport location,hecould have walked to theshuttle station and boarded

the two o’clock bus to givehimself an alibi. But whywould Benton want to killMax Turner? He hadn’tvisited Lake Eden in years,and as far as Hannah knew,he’dnever spokenmore thanafewwordstoMax.Her mind spinning,

Hannahreachedforthephoneagain, intending to callCompacts Unlimited to findout if Benton had rented acar. But perhaps she should

leave that to Bill. He knewthemanagerandhecouldgetthe information much fasterthan she could. Hannahpunched out Bill’s numberand reminded herself of thethings she had to tell him.There was the photo of therental folder and hersuspicionsaboutBenton.Billdidn’t know anything aboutthat. There was also BoydWatson and she had to tellBillthatshe’deliminatedhim

as a suspect. She wouldn’tmention Danielle’s painfulsecret rightnow. Itwouldbebetter to wait until she hadBill’s full attention. Perhapstheycouldthinkofsomewayto put the fear of God intoTheGull’sheadcoach.“Bill? I’ve got some

informationthat...”Hannahstopped short as she realizedshewastalkingtoarecordedmessage. Bill wasn’t at hisdesk. When the beep

sounded, she almost hungupinsheerfrustration,butbettersense prevailed. “Bill? It’sHannah. I eliminated CoachWatsonasasuspect.He’sgotan alibi.But remember thosepictures we took in DelWoodley’s den? Normanbrought them over on hislunch break and one of themshowed a CompactsUnlimited rental folder. Ifigure thatBentonmusthaverented it. Judith wouldn’t be

caught dead driving acompact and Del’s got hisfancy Mercedes. The W inMax’s appointment bookcouldstandforWoodley,butI don’t have a motive. I’mgoing to nose around to seewhatelseIcanfindoutabouttheWoodleys.”Hannah sighed and hung

up, picturing Bill in thesheriff station’s lobby, eatingdozens of the cookies she’dbakedfortheopenhouseand

mingling with the peoplewho’ddrivenout to see theirnew cruisers. He wasprobably having the time ofhis lifewhile shewas sittinghereagonizingovercluesthatdidn’t fit and suspects thatdisappeared likesnowballs inthesun.ShewassupposedtobeassistingBill,notdoingallof his legwork for him.Whowas bucking for detectivehere,anyway?Just then the phone rang,

jolting Hannah out of herglummood. She reached outto answer it, expecting Bill,butitwashermother.“I’m soglad I caughtyou,

Hannah. I have the mostamazingnews.”“Yes, Mother?” Hannah

held the phone an inch fromher ear. Her mother coulddeafenthepersonontheotherendof the linewhenshewasexcited.“I’m here at themallwith

Carrie. She needed a newbattery for herwatch.You’llneverguesswhatIjustsawatthe jeweler’s! What do youthinkitwas?”Hannah made a face at

Moishe. She was almostthirty and her mother stillwanted her to play guessinggames. “I’ll never be able toguess, Mother. You’d bettertellme.”“It was Del Woodley’s

ring!”

“His ring?” Hannah didn’tunderstand what was sostartlingaboutthat.Everyoneshe knew took rings to thejeweler’s when they neededrepairorresizing.“It was for sale, Hannah.

The jeweler had it displayedinaglasscaseandhewantedtwenty thousand dollars forit.”“Twenty thousand

dollars?”Hannahgasped.“That’s not unreasonable

for a platinum setting and adiamond that size.NowwhywouldDelWoodley’sringbeupforsale?”“I don’t have the foggiest

idea.”Hannahtookamomenttoponder thequestion, but itreallydidn’tmakeanysense.“Are you sure it was DelWoodley’sring?”“I’m positive. I admired it

at their party last year and Inoticed this tiny little scratchon the band. The ring I just

saw at the jeweler’s had thevery same scratch. Do youwanttoknowwhatIthink?”“Sure,” Hannah agreed. It

wouldn’t do any good to sayno. Delores would just tellheranyway.“I think Del’s in financial

trouble. That’s the onlyreason he’d part with thatring.He toldme that he justadoredit.”“You’re right, Mother.”

Hannah began to smile. This

opened up all sorts ofintriguing possibilities. “Didyou find out how long theringhasbeenthere?”“Of course I did. The

jeweler said he’d had it forsixmonths.”“Did he confirm that it

belongedtoDel?”“No, dear. He said that

whenever he accepts anyexpensive jewelry onconsignment, he keeps theidentityoftheoriginalowner

confidential.”Hannah thought about that

for a moment while hermother went on to describeevery detail of herconversationwiththejeweler.TheWoodleyshadsparednoexpense at their party, butthat meant nothing. Judithwas proud and she was thetype to keep up appearances.If Del’s business was introuble, he could haveborrowed money from Max.

And ifMaxhadcalled inhisloan, as he’d done withNorman’sparentsandseveralother people in town, DelWoodleywouldhavehadtheperfectmotivetomurderhim.“I’m sure I’m right,

Hannah,” her mother wenton. “You know how good Iam at noticing little details.We stopped in at the antiqueshop, too. Do you rememberthose lovely dessert dishes Igaveyou?”

“Yes, Mother.” Hannahglanced over at the dessertdish she’dused forMoishe’sicecream.“Becarefulwhenyouwash

them. I only paid twentydollars for the set at anauction, but they had two inthe window of the antiquestore.They’resellingforfiftydollarsapiecenow.”“Really?” Hannah was

highly amused. She couldimaginehermother’sreaction

ifshementioned thatMoishehad just finished eating fromafifty-dollardessertdish.“I’ve got to run, Hannah.

Carriewantstoshopforsomenewlinens,andthere’salineof people waiting to use thisphone.”“I’mreallygladyoucalled,

Mother,” Hannah said. Andthistimeshemeantit.There was a spring in

Hannah’s step as shewalkedup to the Plotniks door andrang the bell. Delores didn’tknowit,butshe’dbeenabighelp.PhilPlotnikwasanightsupervisor at DelRay and hemightknowifDel’sbusinesswasintrouble.The door opened and Sue

Plotnikstoodthere,jugglingadishtowel and a crying baby.She looked surprised to seeherupstairsneighbor,butshesmiled. “Hi, Hannah. I hope

Kevin didn’t disturb you.He’sgotanear infectionandPhil’s out getting hisprescriptionrefilled.”“I didn’t even hear him,”

Hannahreassuredher.“DidIcomeatabadtime?”Suelaughed.“Thereisn’ta

good time, not with a newbaby,butthatdoesn’tmatter.Come in and have a cup ofcoffeewithme.Ijustmadeafreshpot.”Hannah didn’t really want

to intrude, especiallywhen itlooked as if Sue had herhands full, but she reallyneededtotalktoPhil.AtleastshecouldhelpwhileSuegotthecoffee.“I brought some cookies

for you.” Hannah walked inand placed the bag on thetable. Then she held out herarmsandsmiledatSue.“Letmeholdthebabyforyou.I’llwalk him around while yougetthecoffee.”

Sue handed over theblanket-wrapped bundle withvisible relief. “Thanks,Hannah.He’sbeencryingallmorning and I dropped hisbottle of medicine. That’swhyPhilhadtomakearuntothedrugstore.Didyougetmymessage about catering nextweekatMommyandMe?”“Yes. Thanks for thinking

of me, Sue. I’ve alreadywritten it on my calendar.”Hannah jiggled the fussing

baby a bit and then shestarted topace the floorwithhim. Michelle had been acolicky baby, and Hannahwas no stranger to cryinginfants. As the eldest sister,almost eleven at the time,Hannahhad takenoverwhenDeloreshadneededabreak.It didn’t take long for the

baby to quiet. Hannah pacedrhythmically back and forthwithasatisfiedexpressiononher face. It was pretty

obvious that she hadn’t losthertouch.Suecameinwithtwocups

of coffee and a plate for thecookies. She set them downon the coffee table and thenshe stared at Kevin withopenmouthed amazement.“Howdidyoudothat?”“It’seasy.Youjusthaveto

keep your steps slow and alittle bouncy. I used topretendthatIwasanelephantin a circusparade. I’mgoing

toputhimdown,Sue.”SuewatchedwhileHannah

walkedovertothecradleandtuckedthebabyinside.Therewasananxiousexpressiononher face, but it faded afterseveral long seconds ofsilence. “You’re a genius,Hannah.”“No,I’mnot.I’vejusthad

plenty of practice, that’s all.Michelle had at least fourboutsofcolicbeforeherfirstbirthday.”

“You should be a mother,Hannah.All that talentgoingto—” Sue stopped inmidthought and looked veryuncomfortable. “I shouldn’thavesaidthat.”“That’sokay.Justdomea

favoranddon’tmention it tomymother.It’llgivehernewammunition.”“She’s still trying to fix

you up with every man intown?” Sue gestured towardthe couch and they both sat

down.“You could say that.”

Hannah took a sip of hercoffeeanddecided tochangethe subject. “How’s DelRaydoing, Sue? That’s reallywhatIcamedowntoaskyouabout.”“Everything’s fine now.

Phil said Del is even talkingabout branching out into themail order business likeFingerhut did in St. Cloud.But it didn’t look so good a

couple of . . .” Sue’s voicetrailedoffassheheardakeyin the door. “Phil’s coming.Hecantellyouallaboutit.”Phil opened the door,

spottedHannah,andgaveheragrin.“Hi,Hannah.”“Hello,Phil.”“Hannah put Kevin to

sleep for me.” Sue gesturedtoward the crib. “She justwalkedlikeanelephantanditworked.”Philgavehiswifeaglance

that suggested she might belosing her marbles, but thenhe shrugged. “Whateverworks. Is there more of thatcoffee?”“Halfapotinthekitchen,”

Suetoldhim.“Getacupandcomejoinus,honey.Hannahcame down to ask us aboutDelRay.”Philpouredacupofcoffee

and came back to sit in thechair across from the couch.Hetriedacookie,pronounced

it the best he’d ever tasted,and thenhe asked, “Whatdoyou want to know aboutDelRay?”“I just hoped there

wouldn’tbeanybigchanges,now that Benton’s comeback,” Hannahwent into theopening of the speech she’dplannedonherwaydownthestairs.“I don’t think Benton will

last for long.” Phil tookanothercookieandshrugged.

“From what I hear, he waslivingitupontheEastCoastand he just came home tomake sure that the moneywouldn’trunout.”“Will it?” Hannah asked

theobviousquestion.“I don’t think there’s any

danger of that. Sue’s sisterworks in the accountingoffice and she told me thatDel just landed a fat newcontractonThursday.”Hannah nodded, but it

didn’treallymatter.Thursdaywas the day after Max hadbeen killed. “How aboutbefore that? Was DelRay introuble?”“There was a problem

about four years ago. It wasright before Sue and I gotmarried and I was alreadystarting to look for a newjob.”“Things were that bad at

DelRay?”Phil raised his eyebrows.

“Bad? It was gruesome. Welostfivebigcontracts,andthefrontofficecuttheworkforcein half. They did it onseniority and I’d only beenthere for a year. I was justlucky I survived the cut.Theguywhowashiredrightaftermegotpink-slipped.ButthenDel got some new financingand ever since then we’vebeendoingbetter.”“New financing?”

Hannah’s ears perked up.

“Youmeanlikeabankloan?”Phil shook his head. “I

don’tknowwherethemoneycame from, but it wasn’t abank loan. Sue’s sister toldme that the bank turned Deldown.Somethingaboutbeingoverextended.”“But there hasn’t been a

problem since that loan orwhatever it was?” HannahtookanothersipofhercoffeeandwaitedforPhil’sanswer.“It wasn’t so fine on

Wednesday morning,” Suespoke up. “Tell her aboutthat,Phil.”“Sue’s right. I was a little

worried when I came homefrom work on Wednesdaymorning.”“A little worried?” Sue

laughed. “Youwere ready tostart sending out resumesagain.”“That’s true. When I was

leaving the plant, I saw theoldmanandhelookedpretty

grim.”“What time was that?”

Hannah held her breath. Thepieceswerestarting to fall inplace.“About six-fifteen, give or

take a couple of minutes. Ijust got off shift and I washeadingouttotheparkinglotwhenIsawhimtalkingtothenightshiftsupervisors.”Hannah was confused. “I

thoughtyouwereanightshiftsupervisor.”

“I am, but these guys areonelevelupfromme.That’swhyI thought theremightbetrouble. The old man nevercomes in before nine, unlessthere’sarealcrisis.”Hannah spent another

couple of minutes makingconversation and then shesaid she had to go. As sheclimbed up the steps to herown unit, she tried to fit thenewpiecesof thepuzzleintoplace. DelWoodley couldn’t

have killed Max, not if Philhadseenhimattheplant.Butit was certainly possible thatDel had secured a loan fromMax Turner four years ago.Shehadtocheckonthat,andthere was only one personwhomightknow.When she unlocked her

door, no furry orange ballbarreled across the room tomeet her. Hannah glancedaroundanxiously.WherewasMoishe? Then she saw him

sitting on the back of thecouch.Thenoveltyofhavingher dash in and out hadobviouslywornoffforhim.“Hi, Moishe.” Hannah

walked over to pet himanyway.“Goback tosleep. Ijust came home to makeanotherphonecall.”Moisheyawnedandsettled

back down, and Hannahreached for the phone. BettyJackson might know if DelWoodley had borrowed

money from Max four yearsago.Betty’sextensionwasbusy

andHannah had to press theredial button a dozen timesbefore she finally gotthrough.Whenshesaidhello,Betty immediately started totellherwhatwasgoingon.“It’s been amadhouse out

here!” Betty sounded evenmore harried than usual. “Ican’t get into Max’s office.There’s yellow tape blocking

thedoorway,andBillwarnedme not to go in there. Andeverybody in town has beencallingme to findoutwhat’sgoingtohappentothedairy.”“Doyouknowyet?”“Yes. I just got off the

phone with Max’s nephewand he’s planning to movehere and take over theoperation. He asked me tocallanemployeemeetingandtell everyone on the payrollthat he’s not planning to

make any changes. Isn’t thatwonderful?”“It certainly is.” Hannah

did her best to soundenthusiastic. She was gladthat the dairy was stayingopen, but she had a lot ofother things on her mind.“I’m sorry to bother you,Betty,butIneedtoaskyouavery important question. Doyou know if Max ever hadany business dealings withDelWoodley?”

“Just aminute and I’ll getthat invoice for you. Couldyouhold,please?”TherewasathunkasBetty

set the receiver down on herdesk, and Hannah heard hertell several people to leaveherofficebecauseshehadanimportantsupplierontheline.A few seconds later, therewas the sound of a doorclosing and then Hannahheard heavy footsteps asBettyreturnedtoherdesk.

“Sorry, Hannah. I didn’twant to say anything whilethere were people in theoffice, but Max did havedealings with Del Woodley.I’m not supposed to knowanything about it, but I justhappened to pick up theextension while Max wastalkingtoDel.”Hannah grinned. It

sounded as if Betty spentmost of her working hourslistening in on conversations

that she wasn’t supposed tohear.“Del called a few months

ago,” Betty continued. “Itwasaboutapersonalloan.Hewas complaining about thehigh interest rates, and Maxwasn’tverynicetohim.”“Really?” Hannah feigned

surprise.“As a matter of fact, he

wasverynasty.MaxtoldDelthat if he didn’t like theinterest rates, he could just

comeupwith themoneyandpayofftheloan.”“DidDelpayofftheloan?”“I don’t know, Hannah.

Del didn’t call again andthat’s the last I ever heardaboutit.”“Thanks, Betty.” Hannah

hung up the phone anddropped her face in herhands. This was all veryconfusing. Perhaps sheshould take a run out to thedairy and look at the crime

scene again. It was possiblethat Bill might have missedsomething that pertained tothe loan that Del had takenoutwithMax.“I’m leaving again,

Moishe,” Hannah announcedas she stood up and feltaroundinherpockettomakesure she had her keys. ButMoishe didn’t rush to thefood bowl as he usually did.He just opened his good eyeand gave herwhat amounted

to an extremely bored kittyshrug.

ChapterTwenty-Five

Hannah zipped down OldLake Road at seventy milesan hour, just about as fast asher Suburban would go. Shehad almost reached theintersection at Dairy Avenuewhenshebegantoreconsider

herdestination.Itwouldbeawaste of time to go over thecrime scene. The killer hadplanned everything carefully,makingaprivateappointmentwith Max and tricking himinto opening the old safe inthe original dairy. Therewasno way such an organizedkiller would have left anyincriminating evidencebehind.So what should she do?

Hannah took her foot off the

gas pedal and let herSuburban slow to the legallimit.Perhaps she should runout to the sheriff’s station tofindBill.Shehadmore factsfor him, information that shehadn’tyetlearnedwhenshe’dleft her voice mail message.ShecouldpullBill asideandtell him everything. Betweenthe two of them, they couldfigureoutwhattodonext.Hannah glanced in her

rearviewmirror and saw that

theroadwasclearbehindher.She slowed her truck to acrawl and did somethingshe’d never done before inher life. She hung a U-turnrightacrossthedoubleyellowline and headed for theWinnetka County Sheriff’sStation.As she pushed the

speedometer up to seventyagain, Hannah thought aboutDel Woodley. He couldn’thavekilledMax.Thelawsof

physicswereabsoluteandhecouldn’t have been in twoplacesatthesametime.Evenif Phil had been wrong byfive minutes and Danielle’swatch had been off by thesame amount, it still wasn’tpossible to drive fromDelRay Manufacturing, outon the interstate, to theCozyCow Dairy in that length oftime.But Benton could have

killed Max. Hannah’s hands

tightenedonthewheelasthatthought occurred to her. Philhad said he’d come homebecause he was worried thatthe family money would runout. IfMax had called in hisloanandDelhadtoldBentonabout it, Benton could havedecided to protect hisinheritance by shooting Maxandstealingthepaperwork.Hannah thought about

Bentonassheraceddownthehighway. He’d always

enjoyedhavingmoney.Fromfirst grade on, Andrea hadcome home from schooltalking about Benton’s newleather backpack, or thecomplete set of Disneymovies that Benton’s parentshad bought for him, or thesouvenirs that he’d broughtback from his summervacations. Benton had beenthe most popular boy in theclassbecausehe’dtreatedhisclassmates to the luxuries

their parents couldn’t afford.“Give them things andmakethem friends” had been hismotto.Benton’sfamilywealthhad

been even more apparent inhighschool.ThenBentonhaddazzled the girls, Andreaincluded,bypicking themupin his shiny new convertibleand showering them withexpensive gifts. The hugebottle of perfume that he’dgiven Andrea for Christmas

had been just one example.Delores had priced it andshe’d toldHannah that ithadcost over two hundreddollars.Hannah doubted that

Benton’s habits had changedin the years since he’d beengone. She was sure that hewas still buying friendshipwith his money. What if allthe cash that he used toimpress people suddenlystartedtodryup?Wouldthat

beastrongenoughmotivetokill the person who’dthreatened Benton’s wholewayoflife?There was a slow truck

aheadandHannahpulledouttowhizpasthim.Yes,Bentoncould be the killer. He wassmart enough to havearrangedthewholething,andpeoplehadmurderedforalotless.AndBentondidn’treallyhaveanalibi for the timesofthemurders.Unlesshecould

come up with a plane ticketthat proved he hadn’t landedat the airport untilafterMaxandRon had beenmurdered,Benton Woodley was thenumber one suspect onHannah’slist.Actually, Benton was her

only suspect. Hannah sigheddeeply and tromped evenharderontheaccelerator.Shehad to find Bill at the openhouse and tell him her newtheory. Bill didn’t know that

DelWoodley had put up hisring for sale and he’d neverguess that Del had borrowedmoney from Max. Shecouldn’t expect him to solvethecaseunlesshehadall thefacts.Hannah’s foot lifted from

thegaspedalagainasanotherthought occurred to her.Exactly how would shemanage to get Bill alone?Mike Kingston would bethere and he was Bill’s new

supervisor. And Bill hadwarned her not to let on thatshe was helping with theinvestigation. Itwas true thatMike didn’t start untilMonday,buthe’dbe thereattheopenhouse.She couldn’tjustbargeinandannouncetoBill and Mike that she’dsolvedthecase.The truck had turned off

and now there was no onebehind her. Hannah hit thebrakesandpeeledanotherU-

turn. Going out to thesheriff’s station had been abad idea. She’d have towaituntil Bill got home tonightbeforeshecouldtellhimthatsheknewwhothekillerwas.Butwhatshouldshedonow?It was only three-thirty andthe rest of the afternoonstretchedoutaheadofher.Themomentshethoughtof

it, Hannah began to smile.She’d go out to DelRayManufacturing to talk to

Benton. She’d make politeconversation and ask himabout his flight. She couldalways say that a friend ofhers, a fictional friend wholived on the East Coast, wasplanning to come out for avisit.Thatwouldbeaperfectexcuse to ask him whichairline he’d used, how longhis flight had taken, andwhetherhe’dhadtowaitlongat the airport for the shuttle.Thanks to Andrea, she had

the advantage of knowingthat Benton always flickedhis fingernailwith his thumbwhen he was lying. She’dwatch Benton carefully toweed out the truth from thelies....No, she couldn’t talk to

Benton. It wouldn’t lookgood if she interrogated amurder suspect without Bill.Hannah eased up on theaccelerator again, preparingfor another U-turn. Her last

instincthadbeenright.She’ddrive straight out to thesheriff’s station and givesome excuse for needing tosee Bill alone. It could be afamilyemergency,somethingto do with Delores. ThenMikewouldleavethemaloneandshecould...Shewas running in circles

andshehadtostopit.Hannahpulledovertotheshoulderofthe road and shut off herengine.ThreeconsecutiveU-

turns was quite enough andshe’dbeenabouttomakethefourth.Whatwaswrongwithher today?Why couldn’t shethink logically? It felt as ifshe’dbeentryingtoassemblea complicated jigsaw puzzlewith a blindfold on, andsomeone kept slipping in apiece from a totally differentpuzzletoconfuseher.“Think,” Hannah muttered

to herself. “Just sit here andthink.You’resmart.Youcan

figureoutwhattodo.”She’d already eliminated a

ton of suspects until all shehad leftwasBenton.Hannahwas sure that he was thekiller,buthowcouldshehelpBill to prove it? She had totake a giant step back andthink aboutwhat had led herto suspectBenton in the firstplace.Andthattookherbackto the Compacts Unlimitedfolder inDelWoodley’sden.ShehadtoprovethatBenton

hadrentedtheblackcompactcar that Mr. Harris had seenspeedingoutof thedrivewayatthedairy.Hannahsupposedshe couldwait for the list ofcustomers that the managerhadpromised to send toBill,butitmeantthatawholeday,perhaps two, would bewasted. There was anotherwayforhertofindout,awaythat should have occurred toher immediately if she’d justtaken the time to think about

it.Hannah smiled as she

started her engine and pulledbackoutontheroad.Shewasgoing to drop in for a niceneighborly visit at theWoodley Mansion. She’dbring Judith Woodley somecookiesasathank-youforthelovely party, and then she’daskherafewpolitequestionsaboutBenton.She’dmentionthat her mother had left herhandkerchiefinthedenwhen

they’duseditasasettingforthe photos, and Judithwouldgiveherpermissiontosearchfor it. If Hannah could justget a second look at thatfolder from CompactsUnlimited, she’d be able toconfirm that Benton hadrentedthecar.“Goodafternoon,Hannah.”

Hannah could tell that Judithwas surprised to see her, but

good breeding didn’t allowher to turn a gift-bearingvisitor away. “Del andBenton are still at work, butyou’re welcome to come inandtaketeawithme.”“Thank you. I’d love to

have tea with you,” Hannahsaid quickly and she gave atriumphantsmileasJudithledthewaydownthehall.Judithhadsoundedveryreluctant.Atrulypoliteguestwouldhavemadesomeexcusetodecline.

But Hannah was onlymasquerading as a guest andshefigured thatahalfheartedinvitation to stay for teawasbetterthannoinvitationatall.As they passed the den,

Hannah glanced in at thetablebythecouch.Therentalcar folder was gone. Shefrowned and decided to skipthebitabouthermother’slosthandkerchief. It wouldn’tserveanypurposenow.“This is my little sitting

room,” Judith announced asshe paused at an open door.“Please go in and makeyourself at home. I have aphone call to return, but myhousekeeperwillbring in thetea tray, and I’ll bewithyouinjustafewmoments.”Hannah nodded and kept

the smile on her face untilJudith had left. There wasnothing“little”aboutJudith’slittle sitting room. Hannah’swholecondocouldhavebeen

plunked down in the center,withplentyofroomtospare.As she gazed around her,

Hannah conceded that it wasa lovely room. It wastastefully decorated in silksand satin and it had anincredibleviewofthegarden.While most gardens lookedbrown and dead this time ofyear, Judith’s was lush andgreen. Her gardener hadplanted rows of smallornamental spruces in an

intricate design thatzigzagged around thebeautiful statuaryandnestledup against pretty littlewrought-ironbenches.“Excuse me, ma’am.” A

housekeeper in a black silkdresswithawhite lacecollarcame into the room.Shewascarrying a tray containing anantique tea set that Deloreswould have killed for.Hannah had learned a bitabout fine china and

porcelain on her forays toestatesalesandauctionswithher mother and sherecognizedthepattern.Itwasa rare and beautifullyrendered set that Wedgwoodhadofferedforalimitedtimeintheeighteenhundreds.The housekeeper walked

over to the antique piecrusttable at the far end of theroomandarrangedtheteasetcarefully on its polishedsurface. She also set out a

platter of dainty fingersandwiches. “Mrs. Woodleyasks that you begin withouther,ma’am.ShallIpour?”“Yes,please.”Hannahtook

aseatinoneofthetwochairsthat flanked the table. Bothchairs had a lovely view ofthe garden, but Hannah wasmuch more interested inwatching how thehousekeeperpouredthetea.Itwasdoneefficientlyandverycarefully, golden tea

streaming from the spout tofill the lovely china cupwithout a splash. As thehousekeeperblottedthelipoftheteapotwithanimpeccablyclean white linen napkin,Hannah couldn’t helpwondering whetherknowledge of correct tea-pouring etiquette was one ofthe prerequisites foremployment at the Woodleyestate.“Lemonorsugar,ma’am?”

“Neither, thank you,”Hannah responded with asmile. “I’m really glad youpoured that. I would havebeen petrified that I’d dropthepot.”The housekeeper gave a

startled smile, but sheimmediately regained hercomposure. “Yes, ma’am.Willtherebeanythingelse?”“Idon’t think so.”Hannah

hadtheurgetodosomethingtotally inappropriate.All this

formality was getting to her.“ActuallyIhatetea,butdon’ttell Queen Judith that I saidthat.”“No,ma’am.Ishan’t.”The housekeeper beat a

hasty retreat, but Hannahheard the sound of stifledlaughter as the door closedbehind her. That made herfeel good. She doubted thatJudith’s domestic staff gotmanylaughsfromherguests.Once the sound of

housekeeper’s footsteps hadfaded off down the hallway,Hannah lifted the otherteacupandtookapeekatthemarkonthebottom.Shewasright. ItwasWedgwood.Shecould hardly wait to tellDelores that she’d actuallysipped tea from such a rareandexpensivecup.There was nothing to do

but wait for Judith, andHannah took stock of hersurroundings. There was a

secretariat of Frenchextraction in a corner. Itwasprobably from the time ofLouis XIV, but she wasn’tentirely sure. Somehow shedoubted that Judith wouldeverbuycopies,regardlessofhow cleverly they’d beencrafted.The wing chairs were

antiques from the mid-eighteen hundreds,undoubtedly English andmost certainly expensive.

Mentally Hannah added upthe items of furniture thatsurrounded her and came upwithastaggeringamount.Nowonder Del Woodley hadneededtoborrowmoney.Hiswife had spent close to ahundred thousand dollarsdecoratinghersittingroom!All that adding made her

hungry andHannah eyed theplatter of sandwiches, littlerectangles of bread with thecrusts removed. Why did

people who wanted to besophisticated cut the crustsoff slicesofbread?As farasHannah was concerned, thecrustswerethebestpart.Thefilling in the sandwicheswasgreen and since she didn’tthink that there was anymoldy bologna in theWoodleys’ refrigerator,Hannah assumed that itmustbewatercressorcucumber.Avegetable sandwich on whitebreadwith thecrustsmissing

wasn’texactlyHannah’s ideaofhautecuisine.Shewasjustwonderingiftheymighttastebetter than they lookedwhenshe heard footstepsapproaching. Judith wascoming andHannah pasted aperfectlypoliteexpressiononherface.Itwasshowtime.

ChapterTwenty-Six

“Hannah dear. I’m terriblysorry to have kept youwaiting,” Judith greeted herasshewalkedovertotaketheother chair. “I see that Mrs.Lawsonhaspouredyourtea.”Hannah raised her cup to

takeahastysip.The teawaslukewarm since she’d left itstandingfortoolong,butshemanaged a smile. “It’sdelicious.”“I do prefer oolong, but

mostofmyguestsarepartialtoDarjeeling.”Hannah wasn’t sure

whether the tea she’d justsipped was oolong orDarjeeling,butitdidn’treallymatter. “I came tocompliment you on your

party, Judith. It was perfect,asalways.”“Thankyou,dear.”Judithpouredherselfacup

of tea and Hannah noticedthat it was steaming as itflowed from the spout of theantiqueteapot.Therewerenocracks in Judith’s rareWedgwood, though the teaset was almost two hundredyears old. Delores hadmentioned that even hairlinecracks diffused the heat and

cooledthetea.Judith was perfectly silent

as she sipped her tea, andHannahknew she had to saysomething. Her hostesswasn’t making it easy andHannah had never been anygood at polite small talk. “Itwas so nice to see Bentonagain,” Hannah began. “Willhebehereforlong?”“I’m really not sure. We

haven’t had time to discusshisplans.”

Nothing useful there,Hannah thought to herselfand decided to try a moredirect method. “I waswondering if Benton wassatisfied with the car that herented.”Hannah was rewarded for

her efforts by a raised,perfectlyshapedeyebrowandtotal silence. Judith was themasterofthenoncommittal.“I’m talking about the car

from Compacts Unlimited,”

Hannahexplained. “Inoticedthefolderwhenyourhusbandgave us permission to takepicturesinhisden.”“Oh, that wasn’t Benton’s

car,” Judith corrected her.“The party people rentedfromCompactsUnlimited.”Hannah kicked herself

mentally for not thinking ofthat possibility. The maid atthe party had told her thatJudith had paid fortransportation. But just

becauseBentonhadn’trentedthe car didn’t mean that hehadn’t used it while it washere.AndithadbeenhereonWednesdaymorning.“Whyareyousointerested

inrentalcars?”Judith’s question pulled

Hannah back from herthoughtswitha jolt.Shewasgetting nowhere, fishing forinformation, and Judith hadgiven her the perfectopportunity. She might as

wellcomerightoutandask.“Look, Judith.” Hannah

raised her gaze to Judith’sperfectly calm green eyes. “Iprobably shouldn’t sayanything, but a black rentalcarfromCompactsUnlimitedwasspotted leaving thedairyon the morning that MaxTurner was shot. I certainlydon’tbelievethatBentonhadanything to do with Max’smurder, but my brother-in-law is in charge of the

investigation and he’llprobably be by to askquestions. I just wanted towarnyou.”“Warn me? Why would

youwanttowarnme?”Hannah sighed. “I guess

warn was the wrongword. Ishould have said that I cameto alert you. Benton doeshave an alibi for the time ofMax’smurder,doesn’the?”“Of course he does!”

Judith’s voice dripped ice.

“Bentonwasn’teven in townatthetime!”“That’s what I thought. If

Benton still has his airlinetickets, don’t let him throwthemaway.Theycouldprovehisinnocence.”Judith’s eyes narrowed.

“Areyoutellingmethatyourbrother-in-law suspectsBenton of murdering MaxTurner?”“No. This is just between

you andme. If you can find

Benton’s airline tickets andshow them to me, I won’tneed to mention it to Bill.You’ve always been nice tomeandI’dreallyliketosaveyour family from theembarrassment of a policevisit.”“Thank you for your

concern, Hannah.” Judithgave her a small, cold smile.“Ifyou’llgivemeamoment,I’ll locate those tickets foryou. They’re probably in

Benton’ssuite.JustwaitrighthereandI’llfindthem.”Hannahgave abig sighof

relief when Judith left theroom. That comment she’dmadeaboutsavingthefamilyfrom embarrassment hadworked.She’dalsosavedBillfrom embarrassment. Judithwasn’t the type to beintimidatedby theauthoritiesand shemight have sued theWinnetka County Sheriff’sDepartment forharassment if

BillhaddraggedBentonintointerrogatehim.Theseconds tickedbyand

Hannah reached for asandwich. She’d skippedlunch and her stomach wasrumbling. The sandwichesweren’t bad, definitelywatercress, but they weren’twhat she’d call substantial.Shecouldscarfup thewholetray and they still wouldn’tmake a decentmeal.Hannahwas just lifting the top off

another—perhaps there weresome with chicken or tunamixed in somewhere—whenshe heard Judith’s footstepsapproaching in the hallway.Shereplacedthebreadjustintime and pasted a smile onherface.“Heretheyare.”Judithwas

carryingasilkshawloverherright arm and her voice wastremblingslightly.Itcertainlywasn’t cold in the room, butperhaps just knowing that

Benton was a suspect in ahomicide had given her achill. She sat down in herchair with the shawl on herlap and handed Hannah theticketswithher lefthand.“Ifyou’ll open the folder, you’llseethatBenton’splanedidn’tlanduntil twelve-seventeen.Iassume that this will clearhimasasuspect?”Hannah examined the

tickets. “Yes, it will. I’mreallysorrythatIhadtobring

it up and I hope that I didn’tupset you too much. It wasjust that the circumstantialevidence against Bentonseemedoverwhelming.”“Overwhelming?” Judith’s

eyebrows shot up. “How canthat be? A killer requires amotive.WhatpossiblemotivecouldBentonhaveforkillingMaxTurner?”“Actually,” Hannah

hesitated,choosingherwordscarefully, “it concerns the

personal loan that yourhusband had with MaxTurner.”“What are you talking

about,Hannah?”Judithlookedflustered,not

at all like her usual poisedself andHannahwondered ifshe should backpedal. ButJudith had been veryforthcomingandshedeservedthetruth.“I’msorryIhavetotell you, Judith, but Delsecured a personal loan from

Max Turner. I just learnedabout it thisafternoon.AndIknow that Del was havingsome problems making thepayments. You can see howthis all fits together, can’tyou?”“Yes,Ican.”Judith’svoice

was hard and Hannahassumed that she wasembarrassed. “You thoughtthatBentonshotMaxso thatDel wouldn’t have to honortheloan.Isthatright?”

“That’sit.I’mreallysorry,Judith,but itdidmakesense.You’vegottoadmitthat.”Judithdippedherheadina

nod. “You’re right, Hannah.Itdidmakesense.Doesyourbrother-in-law know abouttheloan?”“No. There’s no record of

it and I can’t see any reasontotellhim,nowthatBenton’sbeencleared.AndDelhasanair-tight alibi for the time ofMax’s murder. He was

meeting with his nightsupervisors at DelRay andthere’snowayhecouldhavebeen in two places at once.The only other person whowould care about the loan isyou,and...”“Brava, Hannah.” Judith

smiled an icy smile andpulledagunfrombeneaththefolds of her silk shawl. “It’sunfortunate that you put thepieces together, but now thatyou have, I can’t let you tell

yourbrother-in-law.”“YoukilledMax?”Hannah

gulped. She’d never staredintothebarrelofagunbeforeand it wasn’t an experienceshe’d care to repeat. And ifthe cold, calculatingexpression on Judith’s facewas any indication, Hannahsuspected that she might notget a chance to repeatanythingeveragain.“You were asking too

manyquestions,Hannah.And

you were skirting much tooclose to the truth. I knew itwas only a matter of timebefore you arrived at theaccurate conclusion andconveyed it to your brother-in-law. I couldn’t let you dothat,nowcouldI?”Judith was going to kill

her. Hannah knew that withheart-sinking certainty. Shealso knew that she had tokeep Judith talking, to buyherself some time until the

reinforcementscame.But there weren’t any

reinforcements, Hannahreminded herself. She hadn’ttoldBillthatshewasgoingtoseeJudithandhedidn’tknowanything about Del’s loanwith Max. To make mattersworse, Bill wasn’t even adetective yet. He’d neverfigureitoutintime!“Nervous,dear?”Judith’svoicewastaunting

and Hannah shuddered. The

polite socialite had turnedintoacold-bloodedkillerandshe was a goner unless shecouldkeepJudithtalking.“Ofcourse I’m nervous! Whendid you get the gun? Or didyou have itwith youwhen Iwalkedinthedoor?”“Do you honestly think

thatI’dcarryagunaroundinmy own home?” Judithlaughedlightly.Of course you wouldn’t.

Even a shoulder holster

would ruin the lines of yourdress, Hannah thought. Andthen she wondered how shecould think flippant thoughtswhenJudithwasabouttokillher. Either she was muchbraver than she’d everimagined, or she stillexpectedthecavalrytorideinatthelastminute.Hannah’smindspunattop

speed,searchingforquestionsthat Judith might want toanswer. The killers in her

favorite movies seemed tolike to explain why they’dmurdered their victims. Allshe had to do was keepJudith’s mind off shootingheruntil shecouldfigureoutwhattodo.“Whendidyougotogetthegun?I’mcurious.”“Why?”“I don’t know. That’s just

the way my mind works.You’re going to shoot meanyway. You might as welldomeafavorandsatisfymy

curiosityfirst.”“AndwhyshouldIdoany

favorsforyou?”“Because I brought you

cookies,” Hannah answered.“They’re some of my best,Pecan Chews. You’re goingtolovethem.”Judith laughed. She

seemed to think thatHannah’s comment wasfunny. Maybe it was, but itwas difficult for Hannah tosee the humor past the gun

barrelrightnow.“Comeon,Judith,”Hannah

tried again. “What harm canit do to tell me? You weresmart to get the gun. I justwant to know when yourealizedthatyouneededit.”“IhadthegunwhenIcame

backwiththeplanetickets.Itwasundermyshawl.”Hannahsighed.Sheshould

havenoticedthatJudith’ssilkshawl didn’t complement thedress she was wearing. If

she’d been thinking straight,she would have realized thatsomethingwasup.“Youwereplanningtoshootmethen?”“Not then. I brought the

gun as a precaution, but IhopedthatIwouldn’thavetouse it. Unfortunately youforced my hand bymentioningtheloan.”“Me and my big mouth,”

Hannahblurtedout.Thenshesighed. “If I hadn’t saidanything about the loan, you

wouldhaveletmeleave?”“Yes. But you did say

something, and now it’s toolate.”Hannah thoughtof another

questionas fastas shecould.“IknowaboutsomeofMax’sotherloansandhowheforcedpeople to sign over theirproperty as collateral. Is thatwhathedidtoyou?”“Yes. DelRay suffered a

setbackandwhenDelneededmore capital, he signed over

myhome.Hewasafooltodoit. I advised him against it,but he wouldn’t listen. Delwasneververybright.”The gun barrel wavered

slightly and Hannahwonderedifsheshouldmakea grab for it. In one of thedetective shows she’dwatched, the main characterhad jammed his fingersomewhere or other to keepthe gun from firing. But thatgun hadn’t looked like the

one that Judith held. If shegotoutof thisalive, shewasgoing to find out everythingshecouldaboutgunsandhowtheyoperated.“You’re very quiet,

Hannah.”Judith’slipstwistedup in a parody of a smile.“Aren’t you going to askmeanymorequestions?”Hannah shook off all

thoughts that weren’t usefuland latched on to anotherquestion. It was good that

Judith wanted to talk aboutMax andwhat she’d done tohim. “Why didn’t Del get aloanfromthebank?Itwouldhave been a lot safer thangoingtoMax.”“The bank refused him.

They said that he wasoverextended and they wereright. I advised Del to closethe doors, but all he couldthinkaboutwashowitwouldaffect his work force. Thosepeople would have found

other jobs. And even if theyhadn’t, it wouldn’t havematteredtome!”Hannah triednot to lether

emotions show. Judith wastotallyself-centered.Heronlyconcern was for her home,not for the hundreds ofLakeEden workers who wouldhavelosttheirjobs.“IassumethatMaxcalledinDel’s loanand that’s why you felt youhadto...toact.”“That’s exactly right. I

warned Del to be carefulabouthiddenclauseswhenhesigned the loan papers, buthe’s never been proficient atreading legal documents.Max took advantage of hisnaivete.”“He didn’t have a lawyer

readovertheloanpapers?”“There wasn’t time. Max

toldhimthatthedealwasoffif he didn’t sign right away.Del was desperate and thatmade him vulnerable. Max

countedonthat.Themanhadnoscruples!”Hannahtookadeepbreath.

From what she’d learnedabout Max, she could agreewith Judith completely onthat point. “You’re right,Judith. And you’re not thefirst person thatMax tried toruin.Was he really going toforecloseonyourhome?”“Yes, and I couldn’t let

that happen. Del built thishouse for me. It was a

condition of our marriage. Ihad the architect follow theblueprints for my father’shouse.ThisisanexactreplicaandIcouldn’tbear to loseit.Surely you can appreciatethat.”“Your home means that

muchtoyou?”“It’s my life!” Judith

looked fiercely protective.“HowcouldIstandbyanddonothing while Max Turnerwas threatening to take my

lifeaway?”Hannahbitbacktheurgeto

remind Judith that she hadtaken Max’s life away in amuch more tangible andpermanent fashion. “Is thatthe reasonyoucalledBentonhome?”“Of course it is. But

Benton doesn’t love thishouse the way I do. Heactually toldme that Ihad toaccept it, that his father hadsigned those loan papers

voluntarily and there was norecoursewecouldtake.”“So you decided to kill

Max and get the loan papersback?”“What other choice did I

have?Icouldn’tstandbyandletMaxTurnerevictmefrommylovelyhome!”“No, I guess not.”Hannah

saw that Judith’s hand wastrembling slightly and sheasked another question tocalmherdown.“Wasn’tMax

suspicious when you calledand said you wanted to seehim?”Judith gave a cold little

laugh. “Max wasn’t brightenough to be suspicious. ItoldhimI’dsoldsomefamilyheirlooms and that I wasprepared to pay off Del’sdebt. When I arrived at hisoffice, Idemanded to see theloanpapersbeforeIgavehimthemoney.”“So he took you into the

olddairyandgotthemoutofthesafe?”“Yes, but I had to show

him the money first. Youshouldhaveseenthegreedonhisface.Itwasappalling!”Hannah was confused.

“Then you had enoughmoneytopayofftheloan?”“Ofcoursenot.Isimplylet

him glimpse a sheaf ofthousand dollar bills. Maxwas too stupid to realize thatonly the top five were

authentic. And after hehandedme the loanpapers, Itook a great deal of pleasurein ridding the world ofMaxwellTurner!”Judith’s eyes turned hard

andHannahknewsheshoulddo something to appease heranger. “There are a lot ofpeople who’d thank you,Judith.IftheotherpeoplethatMaxtriedtoruinknewwhatIknow,they’dprobablyerectastatue of you in Lake Eden

park.”“But they don’t know.”

Judithwasn’t so easily takenin.“Andtheywon’tknow.”“Of course they won’t.

Nobody will ever figure itout. But why did you killRon?”“He saw me with Max.”

Judith sounded sad. “I didn’twant todoit,Hannah.ItwasnothingpersonalandIdofeelagreatdealofremorseaboutendinghis life. It’s important

thatyoubelievethat.”“ThenRon’sonlyfaultwas

being in the wrong place atthewrongtime?”Judith sighed. “That’s

right.Idowishthathehadn’tcomeintothedairy,butoncehesawme,Ihadtoact.WhenMax’s body was discovered,he would have mentionedseeing me there. It wasn’tpleasant, Hannah. I likedRon. He didn’t deserve todie.”

“Do I deserve to die?”Hannah held her breath,waiting for Judith’s answer.Perhaps, if Judith felt guiltyenough,shemightreconsider.“No. I like you, Hannah.

Your candor is refreshing.Andthat’spreciselywhythiswholesituationissodifficult.Atleastit’llbeoverquickly.Iwouldn’twantyoutosuffer.Ihave everything all plannedout.”“Really?” Hannah

attemptedtosoundinterested,but talking about herimpending death wasfrightening. “What have youplanned? You won’t want toslip up now,when you’re soclosetogettingawaywiththeperfectmurders.”“I won’t slip up,” Judith

sounded very confident. “It’ssimple,Hannah.I’mgoingtowalk you outside, shoot youinthebackofyourtruck,anddrive it down to the lake on

the back of our property.Once I release the brake andpushyourtruckdownthehill,it’llsinkwithoutatrace.”Hannah shivered and

picked up her teacup to takeanothersip.Hearingaboutthedisposal of her very alivebody in such a cold-bloodedwaymadehermouthgodry.“That’sveryclever.Buthowaboutyourhousekeeper?Sheknows I’m here and she’llheartheshot.”

“She’s gone. I dismissedher for the remainder of theday. We’re quite alone,Hannah, andBenton andDelwon’t be home for hours.They have a late meeting atthe plant.” Judith motionedwith the gun barrel. “That’senough talking. Put downyourteacup,Hannah.Thisteaset is a priceless familyheirloom. It’s been in myfamily for almost twohundred years. It was a gift

fromKingGeorge theThird,andmypaternalgrandmotherbroughtitherefromEngland.I’mreallyquitefondofit.”Hannah thought fast, still

holding the teacup. “Mymother’s a collector. This isWedgwood,isn’tit?”“Ofcourse.”Judithgavean

amused laugh. “Even anamateur collector wouldrecognize its valueimmediately. Do you knowthat I’ve been offered over a

hundred thousand dollars fortheset?”“You should have taken

it,” Hannah blurted out, anideabeginningtoforminherhead.“It’safake.”“What?” Judith gasped,

staringatherindisbelief.“Here, I’ll show you.”

Hannah put down her teacupandliftedthelidofthepottoexamine the mark that wasstampedontheunderside.“Alot of people don’t know it,

but I made a study ofWedgwood for my mother.This tea set is very rare andWedgwood put a doublemaker’s mark right here.Yours has only one maker’smarkand thatproves it’s notauthentic Wedgwood. SeewhatImean?”Hannah transferred the lid

to her left hand and the gunbarrel dropped an inch or soas Judith leanedover to lookat the mark. This was it.

Hannah knew she’d neverhave a better chance. Shegrabbed the teapot with herright hand and threw thesteaming tea directly atJudith’s face. Judith reactedbyjumpingbackandHannahtackled her before she couldcatch her balance. The gunwent flying out of Judith’shand, and Hannah knockedhertothefloorashardasshecould,grindingherdownintothe nap of the expensive

Aubussoncarpet.Judithflailedoutwithlong

manicured nails, but shewasno match for Hannah’sadrenalinerush.Italsohelpedthat Hannah outweighed herbyagoodthirtypounds.Innotime at all, she had flippedJudith over on her stomach,twisted her hands behind herback, andbound them firmlywith the Her-mès silk scarfthat Judith had beenwearingaroundherneck.

Hannah’s hands wereshaking as she picked up thegunandtraineditonthebackof Judith’s head. “Onemoveand you’re dead. You gotthat,Judith?”There was no reply from

the quaking socialite on thefloor, but Hannah hadn’texpectedone.Shemarchedtothe phone, intending to tellthe secretary at the sheriff’sstationtogetBillontheline,when the very brother-in-law

that she was about to callrushedintotheroom.“I’ll take over now,

Hannah.”Bill soundedproudof her, butHannahwas a bittoorattledtoreact.“Youcangivemethegun.”Hannah shook her head.

Shewasn’tabout to takeanychances with the womanwho’d almost killed her.“Cuff her first, Bill. She’stricky and that silk scarfmightnothold.”

“Okay.”Billstartedtogrinas he walked over to Judithandslippedonthecuffs.“ShekilledMaxandRon?”“That’sright.Readherher

rights,Bill. I suredon’twantthis case dismissed on atechnicality.”For a moment Hannah

thought she’d blown it,becauseBill gave her one ofthose“Justwhodoyouthinkyouare?”looks.Buthemusthavedecidedtocuthersome

slackbecauseheproceededtoreadJudithherrights.“HowdidyouknowIwas

here?” Hannah asked whenBill had finished with thelegalities.“I got yourmessage about

the rental car folder and IdroveouttoDelRaytotalktoDel. He said he hadn’t seenyou and I figured that youmust be here. I’m sorry Ididn’t get here sooner, but itlooks likeyouhandled it just

fine.Maybe Ican takea fewlessonsfromyou.”“Whatever,” Hannah said

modestly.Shewasn’tabouttoadmit that she’d been savedby a combination ofserendipity, fortuity, andblinddumbluck.The next few minutes

seemed to fly by in a rush.BackuparrivedtotakeJudithinto custody, Bill tookHannah’s statement in theWoodleys’ massive kitchen,

andJudith’ssittingroomwasroped offwith yellow crime-scene tape. Hannah warnedBill to tell the deputies to becareful with the tea set; itactually was a pricelessantique.ThenBillwalkedherout into the crisp night airshe’d never thought she’denjoyagain.The night was incredibly

peaceful. Gentle snowflakeswere falling and it seemed afitting end to a day that had

been filled with confusion,frustration,fear,andfinallyasense of a job well done.Hannah was about to climbinto her Suburban when sherememberedwhat she’d seenon the counter in theWoodleys’ kitchen. “I forgotsomething, Bill. I’ll be rightback.”Hannahracedbackintothe

houseandheadedstraightforthekitchen.Thereitwas:herwhitebakerybagwiththered

plastic handles and “TheCookie Jar” printed on theside in gold letters. Shesnatched it up and ran backoutsideagain.“These are for you.”

Hannahwasbreathlessasshehanded the bag to Bill.“They’re my best cookies,PecanChews.”Bill looked both surprised

and pleased. “Thanks,Hannah. Why did you leavetheminside?”

“I used them as an excuseto see Judith.” Hannahlaughed and the echo of herown laughter soundedwonderfultoherears.“Igavethem toher as ahostessgift,but I don’t think she’s goingtobedoingmuchentertainingwhereshe’sgoingtoendup.”

Epilogue

It wasn’t bad as familypartieswentandHannahwaspleasantly surprised. Normanhad gone out to the sheriff’sdepartment open house andhe’d offered to help BillmoveMikeKingstonintohis

new apartment. Naturally,Bill had asked him to comeback to the house for pizzawiththemandnowtheywereallsittingaroundAndreaandBill’s dining room table,munching pizza, the saladDelores had brought, andHannah’s contribution, twopans of her Lovely LemonBar Cookies. She’d toldeveryone she thought it wasappropriate to bring barsbecause JudithWoodley was

behindthematlast.Something else had

happenedthatmadethisnightinto a celebration. SheriffGrant had promoted Bill todetective and he’d decidedthat Bill should be Mike’spartner.Mikewas still Bill’ssupervisor,buttheywouldbeworkingtogetheroncases.Ofcourse Sheriff Grant didn’tknow anything aboutHannah’s part in solving thedouble-homicide, and neither

did Mike. Hannah had toldBillthatshewantedallofthecredittogotohim.Therewasanotherthingto

celebrate and it concernedAndrea’s career. Bill haddecided that since Traceyloved preschool so much, itwouldbeashametotakeheraway from the friends she’dmade. And since Traceywould be spending her daysat Kiddie Korner, Andreacould keep right on selling

realestate.“Time for bed, Tracey.”

Andrea sounded relaxed andhappy as she turned to herdaughter.“You’vegotschooltomorrow.”“Okay,Mommy.Icantake

the detective bear that Mikegaveme,can’tI?”“Sure, you can,” Bill

answeredher.“But it’s a collectible,”

Delores objected. “What ifoneofTracey’sfriendsgetsit

dirty?”Mike shrugged. “Then it’ll

get dirty. Let her take it,Andrea. It’s not much of apresentforTraceyifshecan’tplaywithit.”“You’re right.” Andrea

smiled at him and then sheturned to Tracey. “You cantakeit,honey.It’sokay.”Hannah watched the

exchangeanditmadeherfeelgood. Perhaps Andrea wasbecoming a little less

materialistic. She certainlywasbecomingmorematernal.Tracey had called her“Mommy,” and Andreahadn’tobjectedtothelabel.After Tracey had kissed

everyone good night and leftto go upstairs with Andrea,Deloresmotioned toHannah.“Could you help me dressanother salad, dear? We’rerunningout.”“Sure.” Hannah followed

Delores into the kitchen, but

themoment theywereoutofearshot,shetookhermother’sarm.“Spillit,Mother.”“Spillwhat,dear?”“Thereasonyouwantedto

get me alone. We weren’trunning out of salad. Thebowlwashalffull.”“You always were the

smart one.”Delores laughed.“I just wanted to know howyou felt with two mencompetingforyou.”Hannahrearedbackonher

heels and gave her mother alook that would wither babygrapeson thevine. “Areyoucrazy,Mother?Norman isn’tinterested in me that way.We’re friends, but that’s asfar as it goes. And MikeKingstoncertainlyisn’t.He’sjust being polite to his newpartner’ssister-in-law.”“Idon’t think so.”Delores

didn’t seemat all swayed bythat argument. “Norman toldCarriethatyou’rethefirstgirl

he’s felt comfortable with inyears.”“That’snice,but itdoesn’t

spell romance.Norman’s justas comfortable aroundAndrea.Asamatteroffact,Ithink he’s even morecomfortablearoundher.Theywere huddled together in theliving room for a long time,discussingwhatcolorAndreashould choose for her newcarpet.”“But Andrea’s married,”

Delores pointed out, “andyou’renot.”Hannah couldn’t resist

teasing her mother. “That’strue. Do you think thatNorman would feel evenmore comfortable aroundmeifIgotmarried?”“That’s not what I mean

and you know it!” Deloressounded as outraged as shecould, given the fact she hadtokeephervoicedown.“Sorry, Mother. It’s just

that you’re always trying topush me into marriage. I’vetoldyoubefore,I’mperfectlyhappybeingsingle.”“That’ll change when you

meet the rightman.”Deloresseemedvery certain. “I thinkyou’ve already met him andyou just haven’t realized ityet. Norman’s a very goodcatch.”“Youmakehimsoundlike

atrout.”“It fits, dear.” Delores

looked highly amused.“Norman’s swallowed thebait.Nowallyouhave todoisreelhimin.”Hannah laughed at the

mental picture that poppedinto her head, and Deloresjoinedin.Whentheystoppedlaughing, Hannah gentlyadmonishedher. “Ifyoustoptryingtosetmeupwitheveryman in town,we’ll get alongmuch better. You’ve alreadygot a grandchild and she’s

perfect. And your son-in-lawjustsolvedadoublehomicideand got promoted todetective. Let’s just have agood time tonight andcelebrate all the good thingsthathavehappened.”“You’re right, Hannah,”

Delores agreed. “But I stillthink both of those men arecompetingforyou.”There was no stopping

Delores, and Hannah wasalmost ready to give up the

fight,butnotbeforeshefireda parting shot. “If they’recompetingforme,whyhasn’teither one of them askedmeout?”“Oh, they will.” Delores

sounded very confident.“Before the night’s over,you’llhavetwodates.”“Youthinkso?”“Wanttobet?”“Idon’tknow.What’sinit

formewhenIwin?”“If you win,” Delores

correctedher.“Allright,ifIwin.”“I’ll buy you a newoutfit.

Claire has a stunning greensilk suit that’ll look justlovelyonyou.”Hannahhadseenthegreen

silk in Claire’s window andDelores was right: It wasstunning. “You’ll never winthis bet,Mother, but just forform’s sake, what do youwantifyouwin?”“I want you to stop

wearing those awful oldtennis shoes. They’redisgusting!”“ButI lovethem.”Hannah

glanced down at her oldNikes, the most comfortableshoessheowned.“You’velovedthemforthe

pastfiveyearsandit’stimetogive them a decent burial.”Delores gave her achallenging smile. “What areyou so worried about? Youjust told me that I couldn’t

win.”Hannah thought about it.

The probability that bothNormanandMikewouldaskherforadatebeforethenightwas over was tooastronomical for her tocalculate without usingnumbers with strange nameslike googol and googolplex.“Okay,Mother.You’vegotabet.”“Good.”Deloresbeamedat

her. “Let’s put that salad

together before someonecomes in to ask what we’retalkingabout.”When thesaladwasready,

Hannah carried it out to thetable.DeloresstartedbendingMike’s ear about collectibletoys,andNormanandAndreagot into a discussion abouttexturedwallsandthespongemethod of applying paint.That left Hannah with Billand she knew she’d neverhave a better opportunity to

talk to him about CoachWatson.“Will you showmewhere

you keep the recycle bin?”Hannah picked up her DietCokecan.“Youknowwhereitis.It’s

that yellow box in thekitchen,underthesink.”Hannah glanced around.

No one was paying anyattention to them, so shegrabbedBill’sarmandleanedclose. “I need to talk to you

alone.”“Oh,” Bill whispered.

“Sorry, Hannah. Let’s duckintothelivingroom.”Once they were out of

earshot, Hannah turned tohim. “I need a favor, but it’stricky.”“Okay.Whatisit?”“This isn’t official, Bill.

And you can’t let anyoneknowthatItoldyou.”“Iwon’tsayanything.”“I know that Coach

Watson has been batteringDanielle.Italkedtoheraboutit, but she won’t presscharges.”“There’s nothing I can do

if she won’t file a report.”Billsigheddeeply.“It’sreallya shame, but my hands aretied.”“I know. Boyd’s in

therapy,butI’mstillworried.I just wondered if you couldkeep an eye on himunofficially.”

“Icandothat.”“Youcan’tsayanythingto

him.IfhethinksthatDanielletold anyone, he might justsnap.”“That’s been known to

happen. Can I ask Mike forsomeadviceonthis?”“Good idea.” Hannah

smiled. “He must have dealtwith this type of situationbefore. But don’t mentionBoydorDaniellebyname.”“Iwon’t. It’s a good thing

youtoldmenow,justincasesomethinghappens.”Hannah shivered as she

walked back into the diningroom with Bill. She hadn’tknown Danielle very wellbefore Ron had been killed,but she did now, and sheliked her a lot. She wishedthat she’d been able to domore to protect her, butDaniellewasindenialandthesystem couldn’t work if shewouldn’tletit.

Hannah’s mood improvedas they rejoined the grouparound the table. Theconversation was lively andthere was a lot of good-naturedribbing.Itwasoneofthe best parties they’d everhad,andHannahwonderedifthey should always invitesome extra guests to theirfamilyaffairs.Severaltimes,astheywere

eating dessert and drinkingcoffee,Deloreswinkedather.

Hannah winked back. Herfavorite old Nikes didn’tseemtobeinanydanger.Dating was the furthest

thing from Hannah’s mindwhen she went into thekitchentofetchtheextrapanof bar cookies she’d broughtand found Norman alreadythere, waiting for her. “Hi,Norman. Are you sneakingbar cookies behind ourbacks?”“No.”Normanlookedvery

seriousasheshookhishead.“Iwaswaitingforachancetotalk to you alone, Hannah. Iwantedtothankyouforthoseloan papers. My motherwould thank you, too, if sheknew.”“That’s okay, Norman. I

didn’twantanyoneelsetoseethem,soIjust...uh...”“Appropriated them?”

Norman grinned as hesuppliedtheword.Hannah grinned back.

“That’sright.”“Willyouhavedinnerwith

me next Friday night? Wecoulddrivetothatsteakplaceoutby the lake. I reallyneedto talk to you in private,Hannah. It’s about mymother.”“Sure,” Hannah agreed

without a second thought.“That’d be really nice,Norman.”Itwasn’tuntilHannahwas

back in her chair that she

realized Delores had wonfifty percent of the bet.Norman had asked her todinner and that counted as adate. She glanced at Mike.There was no way he’d askher out. Her favorite shoesweresecure.The party broke up about

ten. Bill and Mike had toreportinateightandNormanhad an early appointment.They walked Delores out toher car, andHannah lingered

tohelpAndreatossthepaperplates andpizzaboxes in thetrash.When the cleanupwasfinished and Bill had set outthe garbage cans for pickupthenextmorning,sheslippedinto her boots, said goodnight to her sister andbrother-in-law, and walkedthrough the soft white snowtohertruck.“Hannah?”“Hi, Mike.” Hannah was

surprised to see Mike

Kingston leaning up againstthe hood of her truck. “Ithoughtyou’dleft.”“Not yet. I wanted to talk

toyou,Hannah.”Hisvoicesoundedstressed

and Hannah began to frown.“Sure.Whatisit?”“Ilikeyou,Hannah.”Hannah was confused.

What did liking her have todowithanything?“Ilikeyou,too,Mike.”“And I’d like to get to

knowyoubetter.”Hannah began to suspect

that something she hadn’tthought would happen washappening. “I’d like to knowyoubetter,too.”Mike grinned and his

whole face lit up. “That’s arelief. I justmovedhere,soIdon’t know what there is todo on theweekends, but if Ican come upwith somethinggood, how about going outwithmeonSaturdaynight?”

Hannahwassostunnedhermouthdroppedopen.“You’reasking me to go out thisSaturdaynight?”“That’s right.We can find

something to do in LakeEden,can’twe?”“Sure,wecan.”Visionsof

satin sheets and featherpillows flitted throughHannah’s head for a splitsecond, but she pushed themfirmlyoutofhermind.Itwasjust that Mike was so

handsomeandsexy.Andshewasso...available.Mike grinned again. ‘’I

guess I’d better hit the road.Six o’clock comes prettyearly.”“Six?”Hannah’s eyebrows

shotup.“Ithoughtyoudidn’thavetobeat thestationuntileight.”“Idon’t,butmynewplace

hasagymandI like toworkout in themornings. Do youwant me to follow you

home?”Hannah pushed another

image from her mind. Shedidn’t thinkMike hadmeantthat. “Why would you wanttofollowmehome?”“I can think of several

reasons, but we’d better notgetintothatnow.IjustmeantthatIwasconcernedforyoursafety. You’re all alone andit’sdark.”“I’ll be perfectly safe,

Mike.ThisisLakeEden.We

don’thaveanycrimehere.”“Youdon’tcountadouble

homicide as a crime?” Mikestartedtolaugh.Hannah laughed too, even

though the joke was on her.“You’vegotagoodpoint,butthatwas the exception ratherthantherule.I’llbejustfine.Youshouldgohomeandgetsomesleep.”“I will.” Mike turned to

walk to his car. He climbedin, started the engine, and

thenrolleddownthewindow.“I’ll call you at worktomorrowandwe’llsetatimeforourdate.”“I’ll be there all day.”

Hannah waved as he droveoff. She was sliding in,behind the wheel of herSuburban, when his lastwords sank in. She’d justaccepted a date with MikeKingston.“Uh-oh!” Hannah frowned

as she reached out and

grabbed the sneakers thatshe’dtossedonthepassengerseat.Shegotoutofhertruck,marched over to one of thegarbagecansthatBillhadsetout for the morning pickup,andhopedthatDeloreswouldappreciate what she wasabout to do. She had a datewith Norman, and she had adatewithMike. They’d bothaskedheroutbeforethenightwas over, and she’d neverwelshedonabetinherlife.

Two dates in one night—not bad at all! Hannah’sfrown changed to a grin assheliftedthelidanddroppedher very favorite five-year-oldpairofNikesinside.

LOVELYLEMONBARCOOKIES

Preheatovento350°F.,rackinthemiddleposition.

2 cupsflour(noneed tosift)

1 cup

coldbutter(2sticks,½pound)

½ cuppowdered(confectioners’)sugar(noneed tosift,unless

it’s gotbiglumps)

4 beateneggs(justwhipthemupwithafork)

2 cupswhite(granulated)

sugar8tablepoonslemonjuice(½cup)

1teaspoonorsoofzest(optional)(zest isfinely

gratedlemonpeel)

½teaspoonsalt

1teaspoonbakingpowder

4Tablespoonsflour(that’s

¼ cup—don’tbothertosift)

Cut eachstick of butterinto eightpieces.Zoopitup with theflour and thepowdered

sugarinafoodprocessor untilit looks likecoarsecornmeal (justlike the firststep inmakinga piecrust).Spread it outin a greased 9x 13 inch pan(that’s astandard sheetcake pan) and

pat it downwith yourhands.

Bake at 350degrees for 15to 20 minutes,oruntilgoldenaround the

edges.Remove fromoven. (Don’tturnoffoven!)

Mix eggs

with whitesugar. Addlemon juice(and zest, ifyou want touse it). Addsaltandbakingpowder and

mix.Then addflour and mixthoroughly.(This will berunny—it’ssupposed tobe.)

Pour this

mixtureon topof thepanyoujust baked andstick it backinto the oven.

Bake at 350degrees F. foranother 30 to35 minutes.Then removefrom the ovenand sprinkleon additionalpowderedsugar.

Let cool

thoroughlyandcut into

brownie-sizedbars.

Brought

these to thepizza partyfollowingMikeKingston’smove, the dayafter Billsolved thedouble-homicide caseand got his

promotion.(I’m a goodsister-in-law. Igavehimeveryspeck of thecredit.)

IndexofCookieRecipes

ChocolateChipCrunchCookies 32–33

RegencyGingerCrisps 91–92

PecanChews 112–113

BlackandWhites 154–155

Chocolate-CoveredCherryDelights

213–215

Old-FashionedSugarCookies

226–227

LovelyLemonBarCookies

300–301

BakingConversionChart

These conversions areapproximate,butthey’llworkjust fine for HannahSwensen’srecipes.

VOLUME:

U.S. Metric

½teaspoon 2milliliters

1teaspoon 5milliliters

1Tablespoon 15milliliters

¼cup 50milliliters

cup 75milliliters

½cup 125milliliters

¾cup 175milliliters

1cup ¼liter

WEIGHT:

U.S. Metric

1ounce 28grams

1pound 454grams

OVENTEMPERATURE:

DegreesFahrenheit

DegreesCentigrade

British(Regulo)GasMark

325degreesF.

165degreesC. 3

350degreesF.

175degreesC. 4

375degreesF.

190degreesC. 5

Note: Hannah’s rectangularsheet cake pan, 9 inches by13 inches, is approximately23 centimeters by 32.5centimeters.

Pleaseturnthepageforanexcitingbonusnovellaandadditionalrecipesfrom

JoanneFluke!

TheCookieJarLakeEden,MN

JoanneFlukeHannah Swensen MysterySeriesKensington PublishingCorporationNewYork,NY

DearJoanne,It seems like forever since

I’ve seen you, now thatyou’vepackedupandmovedtoSouthernCalifornia.WhenareyoucomingbacktoLakeEden for a visit? You havefriendshere,youknow.AndIreally miss our morningcoffeeatTheCookieJar.I’m so glad you’re finally

telling Candy’s story! I wassurprised you didn’t writeabout it when it actuallyhappened, only two weeksafter I helped Bill solve hisfirst double homicide case,but I guess you were busywritingtheotherbooksinmybiography.NowthatIthinkaboutit,I

believe I know why youwaited so long to writeCandy’s story. It’s because

there’s nomurder. Just thinkaboutit,Jo...you’vewrittenaboutmurder in every singlebook.It’sevenineverytitle!There’s this one, ChocolateChip Cookie Murder, andStrawberry ShortcakeMurder, Blueberry MuffinMurder,LemonMeringuePieMurder, Fudge CupcakeMurder, Sugar CookieMurder, Peach CobblerMurder, Cherry CheesecakeMurder, and Key Lime Pie

Murder. It doesn’t take anadvanced degree in clinicalpsychology to realize thatyou’re obsessing abouthomicide. Even MayorBascomb noticed.Now, bothofusknowthatLakeEdenisaveryniceplacetolive.Andwhile it’s truethatwehavealot of homicides for such asmall town, we don’t wantpeopletogettheideathatit’sthe murder capital of theworld, do we? One other

thing . . . could youmake itperfectly clear that I don’tenjoy finding dead bodies,despitewhatMotherthinks?Thankyoufordoingsucha

good job of chronicling mylife, and thanks again forwritingaboutCandy.I’mjustglad that we could solve thepuzzle of her identity. NowI’ve got to run. Moishe isyowling for me to fill hisfood bowl, the phone is

ringing off the hook (it’sprobably Mother,) and I’mlate for work at The CookieJar. You lived here longenough to know that timenever slows down in LakeEden, unless you happen tobe on Old Lake Road stuckbehindasnowplow.

HannahSwensenP.S. How about making metenpoundsthinnerinthenext

book?I’dreallyappreciateit!

CANDYFORCHRISTMAS

JOANNEFLUKE

ChapterOne

“’Bye, Moishe.” HannahSwensen tossed a fewsalmon-flavored treats thatwereshaped like little fish toher twenty-five-pound felineroommate. It was the sameleave-taking ritual they’dgone through every morningfor the past year, but on thisparticular morning, as she

lockedthecondodoorbehindher and started down thecovered stairs that led to thebasementgarage,Hannahhada startling thought. If thesalmon-flavored treats wereshaped like little fish, whatshapewere the liver-flavoredtreats? The only thing shecould think of that wasshaped like a liver was . . .somebody’s liver. And whatshapewasthat,anyway?Tenminutes later, Hannah

was on the road, driving thefamiliar route to her shop inLake Eden, Minnesota. Thewinter landscape at four-thirty in the morning wasgorgeous. Her headlightssparkledon thefreshlyfallensnow and sent what lookedlike diamonds skitteringacross the road. The lazyflakes that fell from the skyserved as a curtain, mufflingsounduntilallshecouldhearwas the soft rumbling of her

motorandtherhythmicswishof her tires. There was noother traffic. Nothing elsewasmovinginthebitter-coldMinnesota predawn. Hannahfelt like the onlywoman lefton Earth, traveling smoothlyinto the night in a magicalcandy apple red coach withfour-wheel drive that wasfilled with the aroma ofvanilla, cinnamon, andchocolate.It would have been a

perfect fantasy, except forone jarring note. The heaterinHannah’struckwasfailing,andher teethwerechatteringin a lengthy drum roll thatwouldhavebeen theenvyofthe rhythm section of theJordan High marching band.As she had on every othermorning this week, shepromisedherself thatassoonasshegotalittleahead,she’dhave it fixed. In themeantime,herwarmestparka

andgloveswouldhavetodo.Almost there, Hannah told

herselfasshestoppedfor theredlightattheintersectionofOld Lake Road and CarterAvenue.OldLakeRoadwasfairly busy at peak traffichours, butCarterAvenue ledto only one sprawlingshowplacehomeinthecenterof a private pine forest. Thathome belonged to MayorBascomb’s in-laws andeveryone knew that he’d

installed the stoplight topleasehiswife,Stephanie.Since the light had a

reputation for takingawhile,Hannah wiggled her toesinsideherbootsinanefforttorestorewarmth andmobility.Then she counted to ahundred. And then twohundred. She had reachedfive hundred and wasmentally composing a lettertotheeditoroftheLakeEdenJournal, expressing the need

for a sensor on the stoplight,when it finally clicked togreen and she could driveforwardagain.Another five minutes and

shewas turning inat thecitylimits,drivingdownthequietstreets with their darkenedhouses.Everyonewasasleep,and shewould be too, if shedidn’thave tobake theday’scookies before she openedher coffee shop and bakery,TheCookieJar.

The Lake Eden businessdistrict was deserted at thistime of morning. All thestores had dim lights inside,theresultofanarticleSheriffGrant had written for theLake Eden Journal onburglary prevention, butnothingwasmovinginside.ItwouldbeanotherhourbeforeHalunlockedthefrontdooratthe café for the workers onthe morning shift at DelRayManufacturing.

Hannah drove down MainStreet and was about to turnon Fourth, when she noticedthat thetwinklelightsaroundthe inside of the window ofhercoffeeshopwerestillon.She thought she rememberedturning themoff,butperhapsshe’dforgotten.Shehadbeenin a rush to get home lastnight.Hannah just hopedherpower bill wouldn’t be skyhigh for this one infraction.After all, how much current

could a hundred-bulb stringof minilights draw? Perhapsshe wouldn’t even see anincrease. She was usuallyvery carefulwhen it came toturning off the lights andlockingup.As she pulled into the

alley, Hannah slowed hertruck to a crawl to navigatethe icy ruts that a truck hadmade,deliveringdonationstothe Helping Hands ThriftShop.Ahundredyardsanda

dozen or so jarring thumpslater,shewasturningintoherown lot and parking in herspotbythebackdoor.To plug in, or not to plug

in. That was the question.Rayne Phillips, theweathermanonKCOWradio,had promised the day wouldwarmtothehightwenties.AsHannah climbed out of hertruck and eyed the strip ofoutlets installed at bumperlevel at the back of her

building,sheaddedthatbitofinformation to the mix. IfRayne had it right, shewouldn’t need to use herheater. But if Rayne waswrong, her oilwould chill tothe consistency of chewinggum and her truck wouldn’tstart when it was time todrivehome.Hannah stood still,

debating with herself for amoment, and then shelaughed. Rayne Phillips had

beenwrongabouttheweathermore times than he’d beenright,anditwouldbewisetoplay the percentages.Plugging in her carmight beunnecessary,butnotpluggingin her car could mean she’dhave to callCyrilMurphy atthegarage.Once plugged in, Hannah

headed for the back door ofthewhitestuccobuilding.Shewasabouttoinsertherkeyinthe lock when she stopped

short and frowned.Theknobwas a bit icy, as if a warmhand had recently gripped it.That was odd. Her assistant,Lisa Herman, wasn’tscheduled to come in thisearly. If, for some reason,Lisahadarrivedfirst,heroldcarwouldbehere.Unless,ofcourse, her car had failed tostart and she’d caught a rideto work with one of herneighbors.Hannahstoodditheringfor

amoment.IfLisawashere,itwould account for the lightsshe’dseen.Shealwaysturnedthem on and propped openthe swinging door to thecoffeeshop,sothatshecouldenjoy themwhile she helpedwith the early morningbaking.Standing here wondering

was not only silly, it wascold! All she had to do wasgo inside and see. Chidingherself for her chilly mental

debate,Hannah unlocked thedoorandflickedonthelights.And then she blinked. Andblinkedagain.Severaltimes.Lisahadbeenhereandthe

proofwasrightinfrontofhereyes. The dirty dishes they’dleftinthesinkweregone,andthe floor had been freshlymopped. Normally, Hannahand Lisa did these thingsbefore they left for thenight,but Hannah had been in ahurry to get home, and Lisa

had invited two of her dad’sfriendsfordinner.Unless theelves had left theshoemaker’s shop and takenup residence at The CookieJar, Lisa must have come insometime during the night towash thedishes andmop thefloor!Perhaps she’d put on the

coffee, too? Hannah glancedat the kitchen pot, but thelittle red light wasn’tglowing.Nocoffeethere.She

went through the swingingdoor to check the big thirty-cuppercolator,butitwasstilltipped upside down on atowel, the way they alwaysleft it after they washed anddried it. Lisa loved coffee asmuchasHannahdid.Itwouldbe ready if she’d come inearly.Hannahfeltachillthathad

nothingtodowiththewinterweather as she noticed thatthe multicolored lights were

off. They’d been on whenshe’d driven past onlyminutes ago. Her earlymorning cleaner must havevamoosed only momentsbefore she pulled up in herparking space. If she’dhurriedjustalittle,shecouldhave caught her, or him, orperhapsseveralelfinthems!Remembering the thin

sheenof iceon thedoorknobmade Hannah discard hertheory of helpful storybook

creatureswhocould sneak inand accomplish greatquantitiesofworkintheblinkofaneye.Herbenefactorhadbeen a real live person, onewho could reach thedoorknob and who didn’tdrink coffee. But who hadcleanedupthekitchenononeofthecoldestmorningsoftheyear?Andwhy?Lisacameinthebackdoor

at a quarter to seven, fifteenminutes before she wasexpected. She found Hannahsitting at the work island inthe center of the room,sippingacupofcoffee.“Hi, Hannah,” she said,

hanging her coat on the rackbythebackdoorandslippingout of her boots and intoherworkshoes.“Youcleanedupthe kitchen and did all thebakingwithoutme?”Hannahshookherhead.“I

did the baking, but I didn’tclean the kitchen. That wasall donewhen I came in at alittlebeforefivethismorning.Ithoughtmaybeyoucouldn’tsleepandyou’ddoneit.”“No way. And I don’t

sleepwalk, either. I wonderwho . . .” Lisa stopped inmidthought and began tofrown.“Isanythingmissing?”“Nothing I can see.

Besides, our mystery cleanerleftusagift,andpeoplewho

come in to steal things don’tusuallydothat.”“Whatgift?”Hannah pointed. “Candy.

The note said they’re calledBrown Sugar Drops andthey’re on a plate right nexttothecoffeepot.”“Didyoutryone?”“Of course. They’re

wonderful.”“Okay.I’lltryone,too.”“You’ll try one now that

I’ve acted as official poison

taster and I haven’t keeledoveryet?”“That’s right.” Lisa

laughedasshewalkedovertoget a piece of candy. Shepopped it into her mouth,chewed, and headed for thepot to pour herself a cup ofcoffee. “This is good candy.It reminds me of the maplesugar candy my dad used tobuy, except that was a littledifferent. I just wish we hadtherecipe.”

“Wedo,”Hannahtoldher,pulling out a stool so thatLisa could sit at theworkstation, and handing herthe handwritten recipe theirearlymorningvisitorhadleft.Lisa glanced down at the

recipe. “This is great. I’mreallygladsheleftitforus.”“She?”“I think so. The writing

looksfeminine.”Hannah began to grin.

“Becauseit’sneat?”

“That could be part of it.Butit’salsosmall.Thelettersaredelicateandall themenIknowwritealotlarger.”“I don’t think that proves

anything. My dad had smallhandwriting. He could fitthingsondrawerlabels thatIhad to abbreviate. I think itdepends on how you weretaught. People used to takegreat pride in theirhandwriting. If you look atdocuments from the eighteen

hundreds, you’ll find somenotable men with perfectpenmanship. And how aboutthe illuminated manuscriptsall thosemonkswrote in theMiddleAges?”“You’re right,” Lisa

admitted. “I guees I made asexistremark.”“You certainly did. And I

totallyagreewithyou.”“Youdo?”“Absolutely. I’m

convinced that a woman

wrotethatrecipe.”“Why?”“Because men don’t

usuallyuseturquoiseink.”Lisa took a huge swig of

her coffee. “I’m not awakeenoughforthisyet.”Shetookanother swig and then shelooked at Hannah again. “Ifyou agreed with me in thefirst place, why did youargue?”“BecauseIliketoargue.It

getsmybraincellsfiringand

we need all the brainpowerwecangettoday.”“You mean because we

have to figureoutwhobrokeinandcleanedourkitchenforus?”“That’sright.Andwehave

to figure out something else,too.”“What’sthat?”“Thenext time it happens,

wehave to figureouthowtoget her to put on the coffeebeforesheleaves.”

BROWNSUGARDROPS

Hannah’s

1st Note:Candy told usthat the

original nameof this recipewas“Browned”Sugar Drops.Overtheyears,it gotshortened toBrown SugarDrops, eventhough there’sno brownsugar in thecandy.

To make

thiscandy,youwill need acandythermometer. Iuse the kindwith a glasstube and asliding metalclamp thatattaches to theside of asaucepan. And

even thoughtherecipecallsfor a 3-quartsaucepan, Ialwaysusemy4-quart pan.That way Idon’t have toworry aboutthe candyfoaming upoverthesides.

1cupbuttermilk2½cupswhite(granulated)sugar1teaspoonbakingsoda2

Tablespoons(cup)whiteKarosyrup½cupbutter,roomtemperature(1stick,

¼pound)

Before youstart, get out a3-quartsaucepan andyour candythermometer.Place thethermometerinside the

saucepan withthe slidingclamp on theoutside. Slidethethermometerthrough theclampuntilit’sapproximately½ inch fromthe bottom ofthepan.

(If the bulbtouches thebottom of thepan, yourreadingwillbewildlyoff.)

On a cold

burner,

combine thebuttermilk,sugar, bakingsoda, andwhite Karosyrup in thesaucepan. Stirthe mixtureuntil it’ssmooth.

Turn your

burner onmedium high

heat.STIR thecandy mixtureCONSTANTLYuntil it boils.(This will takeabout 10minutes, sopullupa stooland getcomfortablewhileyoustir.)

Move the

saucepan to a

cold burner,but don’t turnoff the hotburner. You’llbe gettingright back toit.

Drop the

butter into thecandy mixtureand stir it in.(This couldsputter a bit,

so be careful.)Slide thesaucepan backon the hotburner andwatch it cook.STIRRING ISNOTNECESSARYFROM THISPOINT ON.Just give it alittlemixwhenyoufeellikeit.

EnjoyacupofSwedishPlasma andone of thoseyummycookies youbaked lastnight whileyou wait forthe candythermometerto come up tothe240degreeF.mark.

When your

thermometerreaches 240degrees F.,give the pan afinal stir, turnoff the burner,and take yourcandyfromtheheat. Let itcool on awirerack or a coldburner until it

returns toalmost roomtemperature.Then stir itwithawoodenspoon until itlookscreamy.

Lay out

sheets of waxpaper. Dropthe BrownSugar Dropsby a spoonontothepaper.Don’tworry ifyour “drops”aren’t ofuniform size.Once yourguests tastethem, they’llbe hunting for

the biggerpieces.

Hannah’s

2nd Note: Ifthe time getsaway fromyou and yourcandyhardens toomuch in thepan, you canstick it backontheburner

over very lowheat and stirit constantlyuntil it’s thepropercreamytextureagain.

Lisa’s

Note: Thiscandyreminds meof the kindthat’s shaped

like mapleleaves. Dadused to bringit back fromVermontwhenhewentback to visitUncle FritzandIlovedit.Justforfun,Itriedaddingateaspoon ofmaple extractand it was

really goodthatway!

Yield: 3-

dozenbon-bonsize pieces ofdeliciouscandy.

ChapterTwo

Candice Roberts arrangedher sleeping bag under thelightsbythefrontwindowofTheCookieJar.Theheaterinthe coffee shop blew outwarm air that smelled likecookies, and Candy’sstomachgrowledeventhoughthere was no way that shecouldbehungry.She’deaten

thehamandcheesesandwichthatthered-hairedownerhadleft for her, along with thebag of potato chips and thesour dill pickle that hadreminded her of the kindGranny Roberts used tomake. And then, for dessert,she’d polished off six of adozen cookies that had beenleft on a plate for her, andshe’d washed them downwithafullglassofmilkfromthewalk-inrefrigerator.

Once thesleepingbagwasarranged to her satisfaction,Candy snuggled in andthanked her lucky stars thatshe wasn’t outside in thebitter cold. Her sleeping bagwas rated for twenty below,but a glance at thethermometer in the kitchenwindow had told her that itwas twenty-three below zerotonight, and it wouldprobably get even colderbeforethesuncameupinthe

morning.A tear rolled down

Candy’s cheek and drippedontothefabricofhersleepingbag.Ithadbeenherdad’slastChristmas present to her,along with the down-filled,quilted field jacket that wasgetting just a bit too tightacross the shoulders, and thebuckskin mittens he’d called“choppers” that were linedwithrealfur.Dadhadgrownup in Minnesota, and they’d

plannedtogowintercampingat the campground herememberedon the shoresofEdenLake.Another tear joined the

first, and then another. Nowshe’dnevergocampingwithher dad again. A year ago,Dad had gone down to theclinic for an emergency. Onhiswayhome,adrunkdriverhadhithimandhe’ddiedonthewaytothehospital.For a long while, Candy

hadn’t thought she’d ever behappyagain.Shemissedhimso much. But she’d talked alot with Mom, and that hadhelped. She was just startingto feel as if things mightactually be okay whendisasterstruckagain.Just thinking about it

caused another tear to fall,and then the dam broke.Candy cried until there wereno more tears left, and thenshe closed her swollen eyes.

She missed her dad, butmissing him couldn’t bringhim back again. And shemissed her mom, but shewouldn’t see her again for along,longtime.“Youreallywouldn’tmind

driving past my shop?”Hannah asked, turning toNormantomakesurehewasserious. They’d just finisheddinner at the Lake Eden Inn

wherethey’dhadseveralnewappetizers that SallyLaughlin, the co-owner andchef, would be featuring atherhugeChristmaspartynextFridaynight.Itwasastraightshot from theLakeEden Innto Hannah’s condo, butdriving into town, whereHannah’s cookie shop waslocated, amounted to atwenty-six-miledetour.“Why would I mind?”

Norman answered her

question with a question,something that Hannah’smother frequently accusedher of doing. “It gives memoretimewithyou.”The smile Norman gave

her looked perfectly genuinein thedimlightcomingfromhisdashboard.Hannahsmiledback and they were off,heading to Lake Eden on awintry night that suddenlyseemed much warmer toHannah. “Would you like to

hear about the night visitor Ihadthismorning?”sheasked.“A night visitor in the

morning?”Normanturnedonthe windshield wipers tohandle the light sprinklingofsnow that was falling. “Isn’tthat a contradiction interms?”“No.Do youwant to hear

aboutit?”“Yes, Iwant tohear about

it.”“All right then. The lights

in thewindowwereonwhenI drove past the front of theshop thismorning.And then,when I unlocked the backdoor,Inoticedthattherewasiceontheknob,asifawarmhand had gripped it justmomentsbefore.”“You thought someone

mightbeinsideyourshopandyou went in anyway?”Norman glanced at hersharply.“Of course I did. This is

Lake Eden. We don’t haveanycrimetospeakof.”Norman didn’t say

anything. He didn’t have to.He just ran his finger acrosshis throat in a slashingmotion.“Okay, okay. I get your

point. Maybe we do have alittle crime. But it was onlyone double-homicide, and Idon’t think we’ve ever hadone before. Lake Eden’s areallysafeplacetoliveinthe

winter, at least as far asbreak-insgo.”“It’s too cold for crime?”

Normanguessed.“That’s part of it.

Everybody’s so busyconcentrating on keepingwarm,theydon’thavetimetocommit petty theft. I neverdouble-lock the back door toTheCookieJarinthewinter.What if some homelesspersonisfreezingoutsideandneeds to get in out of the

cold?”Norman turned togiveher

a smile. “You’re a kindwoman,Hannah.Foolish,butkind.”“Well, I’ve never had any

trouble,andIdidn’thaveanytrouble this morning. As amatter of fact, whoever sleptat The Cookie Jar last nightgot up early, did all thedishes, and mopped thefloor.”“As a thank-you for the

warmplacetosleep?”“I think so.She alsomade

us a batch of really greatcandy and left us the recipe.That’swhat gave us the ideato offer candy over theholidays.Homemadecandyissomuchbetter thananythingyou can buy in the stores.And a lot of people don’thave time to make theirown.”“Good idea. If you can

makeEnglishToffee, I’ll get

some for my mother forChristmas. It’s her favorite,andshe’salwayscomplainingthatthekindyoubuyisn’tasgood as the kind her motherusedtomake.”“Ibby used to make

English Toffee. It was reallygood,andshegavemeacopyofherrecipe.”“Who’sIbby?”“Ateachingassistantinthe

English Department. I mether when I took a graduate

seminar in college. Ibbywasan expert on Seventeenth-Century EnglishMetaphysicalPoets.”“LikeDonne?”Hannah gave him a

thumbs-up.“That’sright.”“And...Traherne?”“Rightagain.”Hannahwas

impressed. Most people hadnoideawhothemetaphysicalpoets were and certainlywouldn’tbeabletonametwoofthem.“Howdidyouknow

that?”“Mother.”“Your mother liked the

metaphysicalpoets?”“No, she liked ‘A Visit

fromSaintNicholas.’”“SodoesMother.Butwhat

does that have to do withDonneandTraherne?”“We had a big family

Christmaseveryyearwithalltheuncles,aunts,andcousins.I made the mistake ofmemorizing it when I was

four, and every year fromthenon,mymotheraskedmetoreciteit.”“Thatcanbeembarrassing,

especially if you don’t wantto do it,” Hannahsympathized.“Not to mention

‘dangerous.’”“Dangerous?”“That’s right. My cousins

didn’t like it when I was inthespotlight,andtheyusedtogivemeahard timeafterwe

were excused from dinner. Itoldmymother and she saidtoignorethem,thattheywerejustjealous.”“Sowhatdidyoudo?”“A week before the next

Christmas, I memorized fourpieces from themetaphysicalpoets, the longest ones Icouldfind.”“Anditworked?”“Likeacharm.Mymother

never asked me to reciteagain.”

“Howaboutyourcousins?”“The oldest one caught on

towhat Iwasdoingand toldthe others. We were prettygood friends after that.”Norman began to frown. “Ican’t imagine anyonechoosingtobecomeanexpertonthemetaphysicalpoets.”“I couldn’t imagine it

either. But I asked Ibby andshe said she chose thembecause there were onlyseven. She figured she could

handlethat.”“But John Donne was

prolific.”“That’s true.And he’s not

what anyone would call a‘funread.’Alotofhispoetryisaboutdepressingsubjects.”“Really?” Norman gave a

little grin. “You don’t thinkthat ‘So doth each tear,Which thee doth wear, Aglobe, yea world, by thatimpression grow, Till thytears mix’d with mine do

overflow. This world, bywaters sent from thee, myheaven dissolved so,’ ischeerful?”“The imagery’s nice, but

it’s about crying and that’snotaverycheerfulsubject.”“You’ve got a point. So

how does Ibby’s EnglishToffee fit into metaphysicalpoetry?Ordoesit?”“Ibby used to bring her

toffee to our study groups tomakesureweall showedup.

Andthedepartmentlovedherbecause nobody ever missedhersessions.”“They should have done

thatindentalschool.Ihadtoforcemyselftogotomyclassin Billing and BusinessManagement Models.”Normanpulledup inbackofThe Cookie Jar and tookHannah’s parking spot. “Ifyou can find that toffeerecipe, I’ll take thirty half-poundboxes.”

“Foryourmother?”“Just one box for my

mother. I’ll give the othertwenty-nine to my patientsfortheholidays.”“That’sniceofyou,but . .

.”Hannahstoppedandbegantofrown.“Butwhat?”“Idon’twanttotalkmyself

out of a big sale here, butisn’t that sending the wrongmessage?”“Whatdoyoumean?”

“You’re giving themcandy. And candy ispractically solid sugar. Ithought dentists wanted theirpatients to avoid a lot ofsugar.”“Not necessarily. We

encourage our patients tobrush and floss after eatingsweets,butwedon’ttellthemnot to eat candy. If everyoneate correctly and practicedimpeccable dental hygiene,there wouldn’t be any need

for dentists. And then I’d beoutofajob!”Hannah turned to stare at

him. She thought he wasjoking, but she wasn’tcompletely sure. Then shesaw the corner on hismouthtwitch slightly and she knewhewas pulling her leg. “I’venever thought of it from thatperspective before. And itseems we’re in the sameboat.”“Weare?”

“If everyone ate exactlywhat they should and nevertreated themselves to sinfuldesserts, I’d be out ofbusiness,too!”

ChapterThree

Hannah stood staring at thebackdoorofherbuildingfora moment and then shesighed.“Iwonderwhatshe’lldowhenwecomein.”“She’llrun.”“Youthink?”“I’m positive. From what

you said, she sounds like anintelligentgirl.Sheknowsit’s

illegal to break into a lockedstore.”“But she only broke in

becauseitwascoldoutside.”“Iknow.”“And she tried to pay me

for staying overnight bymaking candy and cleaningmykitchen.”“That’s true, but she still

brokeintwicethatyouknowof.”“Once,” Hannah corrected

him.

“But the lights in thewindow are on. Doesn’t thatmeanshe’sheretonight?”“Oh,she’shere.ButIgave

hertacitpermissiontostay.”“Youleftheranote?”“No, I left her a sandwich

and a plate of cookies. Iwouldn’t have done that if Ididn’twantherinmyshop.”“All right. Let’s say she

figuredout that thesandwichand the cookieswere for herand she ate them. And she’s

all bedded down inside forthe night. I still think she’llrunwhenyoucomein.”Hannahthoughtaboutthat.

Norman could be right.Someonedesperateenoughtobreak into a shop and sleepon the floor might think thesandwichandcookieswereatrap tocatchher.“SodoyouthinkthatIoughttojustleaveheralone?”“Absolutely not. For all

youknowshe’sunderageand

her family is worried sickabouther.Whatweshoulddois talk to her, find out herstory and see if we can dosomethingtohelp.”“You said we,” Hannah

pointedout.“Does thatmeanyouwanttogetinvolved?”“I’m already involved. I

gotinvolvedwhenIagreedtodrive you to the shop. TheremaybesomethingIcandotohelp her. For instance . . .what if she has a crippling

overbite?”Hannah burst out laughing

and immediately clamped agloved hand over hermouth.Theyhadtobequiet,andthatwas difficult when Normanwas so funny. Shewanted toreachoutandgivehimahug,but she resisted the impulse.Although she didn’t thinkhe’d misinterpret it, shecouldn’tbeahundredpercentsure. “I knowwe should talkto her,” she told him, “but

what if you’re right and theminute she sees us, shebolts?”“That’s where I come in.

Yougo in thebackdoor andI’llwalk around to the front.If she takes one look at youand tries to runout thefront,I’ll nab her and bring herback.”“Okay,” Hannah agreed,

giving in to her impulse andhuggingNormananyway.Hereally was a nice guy. “I’m

readyifyouare.”All was quiet as they

climbed out of Norman’ssedan.They closed thedoorssilentlyand then theyheadedfor the back door of TheCookieJar.“Wait for a minute before

you go in,” Normanwhispered. “I’ll give a lowwhistlewhenIgettothefrontofthebuilding.”“How about a bird song?

That’swhat the Indians used

todo,atleastinthemovies.”“TheonlybirdcallIknow

istheMinnesotastatebird.”“The loon?” Hannah was

so surprised, she almostforgot to whisper. “Why didyoulearnthat?”“Youdon’twanttoknow.”“Yes,Ido.Why?”Norman looked a little

embarrassed. “So I could doit at parties when I was indental school, but there’s nowayI’mgoingtodoitnow.It

soundslikeaninsanewomanlaughing, and I’d probablyscare both of you to death.Just listen for my whistle,okay?”“Okay.” Hannah took up

her position at the back doorandwaited.Itseemedtotakeforever for Norman to getaround to the front of thebuilding,butatlastsheheardhis signal. She unlocked thebackdoor,steppedinquietly,and threw the deadbolt from

the inside. It would take hernocturnal visitor precioussecondstofigureouttheold-fashionedlockandthatwouldgiveHannahtimetocatchherif she tried to leave the backway.Hannahtiptoedthroughher

silentkitchen,checkingeverynookandcranny.Noonewashiding in any of the corners,or in the pantry. Thebathroom was deserted, butsomeonehadusedtheshower

within the last few hours.There were still a few beadsof water on the walls of theenclosure, and the towelswere damp to the touch. Shecameoutthedoorandheadedfor the front.Therewasonlyone place left to check, andthatwasthecoffeeshop.Careful not to make a

sound, Hannah pushed openthe swinging door to thecoffee shop. Her eyes wereimmediately drawn to the

front window and the lightsthat were on for the secondnight in a row. Her elfinvisitorwashere.Nowallshehadtodowasfindher.Hannah moved closer as

she noticed a bulky pile ofbedding that hadn’t beenthere when she’d closed upher shop. It was a sleepingbag stretched out under thelightsinthewindow.Hannahwas reminded of all thosetimes as a child when she’d

fallen asleep under the tree,half-listening to the adultstalking, comforted by thetwinkling lights and familiarornaments, and knowing thatChristmaswasonlyaweekortwoaway.Thegirlwasturnedtoward

the lights, rosy in sleep andglowing from the red bulbthat was directly above herface.Withherlongeyelashesand slightly parted lips, shelooked like a porcelain doll

withrouge-paintedcheeks.Inthe silence of the shop, withonly the hum of the coolerbehind the counter, Hannahcould hear her breathingsoftlyinslumber.Hannah admired the

picture she made for amoment,andthensheputherinvestigationalskillstowork.The girl’s fingernails werecleanandsowereherclothesand her sleeping bag. Thatmeantshehadn’tbeenonthe

streets for long. She wasn’tstarving, either.Her left arm,the one that wasn’t coveredby the sleeping bag, wasnicelyrounded.Onthewholeshe looked healthy andyounger than Hannah hadexpected.People usually looked

youngerwhiletheyslept.Thecares and worries of the daywere erased by peacefuloblivion, and a stress-freepersona emerged. Perhaps

this girl wasn’t as young asshe looked, but Hannah hadher doubts. She seemedinnocent, almost untried, onthebrinkofdiscoverybutnotyet comfortable with hernewlyadultform.Hannah began to frown.

She really hated towake heruninvited boarder just to tellherthatshecouldsleepinthecoffeeshop.Itwasalmostthesame as a nurse waking apatientinthehospitalbecause

itwastimeforasleepingpill.If the girl was a runaway,therewaslittlejoyinherlife.And right now she appearedto be dreaming aboutsomething pleasant, judgingbythehalf-smileonherface.It seemed a shame to shatterherhappiness,butithadtobedone and the sooner thebetter. There was no wayHannah was going to letsomeonewhoappeared tobefaryoungerthanheryoungest

sister go back on the streetsagain! Besides, Norman wasstanding outside the frontdoor shivering, and it wastimetolethimin.“Wake up,” Hannah said

softly, hoping she wouldn’tcause the girl to panic. “Ineedtotalktoyou.”The girl groaned an

inarticulate protest andmadealittlemoueofdistaste.“Notyet.Go’way,Mom.”Shehad amother.Hannah

added that to the mental listof facts and suppositionsshe’d gathered. “Come on,now. Wake up. You can goback to sleep right after youtalktome.”The girl looked as though

shewasgoingtorolloverandignore the intrusion, but thensome internal sense ofpreservation must havekicked in. She sat up with ajolt, her eyes flew open, andshe stared hard at Hannah.

“Whoareyou?”“Hannah Swensen. This is

my coffee shop. Who areyou?”“I’mCandy.”“Candywho?”“CandyR . . .nevermind.

You don’t need to knowmyname.”Thegirlwiggledfromher sleeping bag and got toherfeet.“Pleasedon’tcallthecops.I’mleavingrightnow.”And before Hannah could

open her mouth to say that

therewasnoneedtorun, thegirlgrabbedhersleepingbagand raced for the front door,unlocking it in a flash anddashingout.“Good grief!” Hannah

gasped, hardly believing hereyes. She’d never seenanyonemovethatfast.Itwasobviousthatthegirlhadbeenprepared for rudeawakenings. She’d slept inherclothesandshemusthavehidden her other belongings

in thebottomofher sleepingbag.Allthatwaslefttoproveshe’d been there in the firstplacewas a bare spot on thefloor where she’d moved atable and two chairs so shecouldstretchout.“Let me go! Come on,

Mister! Please? I wasn’thurting anything, really Iwasn’t!”Hannahhurriedtothedoor

to help Norman, who’dcaughtthefleeingrunawayas

she’d rushed out into thenight. “It’s okay,Candy.Wedidn’t call the police andwe’re not going to. You’vegot my permission to stayhereforthenight.”“I do?”Candy still looked

frightened, but her strugglesdiminished noticeably. Shegave another twist to try toget away from Norman’sgrasp, but it was clear herheartwasn’tinit.“How about some hot

chocolate?” Hannahsuggested, motioning forNorman to escort her to thekitchen. “You don’t want tocatch a cold, dashing outsidelikethatwithoutyourcoat.”Candy gave a little nod.

“That would be great, butbeing outside in the colddoesn’t give you a cold.Mydadsaidthatwhenpeopletellyou that, it’s just an oldwives’tale.”“But I’m not married and

I’m not that old,” Hannahshot back, and she wasgratified when Candylaughed. For someonewho’dbeen jolted out of sleep by astrangerandhadfledintothebitterlycoldnightwithallherbelongings,shehadmanagedto maintain her sense ofhumor. “Is your dad adoctor?”“My dad was a vet. He’s

dead now. You’re sure youdidn’tcallthecopsonme?”

“OfcourseIdidn’t.Thisisa small town. If I’d calledthem, they’d be here bynow.”Candy turned to Norman.

“How about you? Did youcallthem?”“Notme.My cell phone’s

still in the car.” Normanglanced down at Candy’sfeet. “Isn’t it hard to climbinto a sleeping bag whenyou’rewearingtennisshoes?”“Not ifyouunzipitall the

way. Getting out is the hardpart. The soles stick to thelining of the bag and youhave to keep tugging itdown.”“Maybe you should think

about wearing two pairs ofsocks. Then your feet wouldbe warm and you wouldn’thavetobotherwithshoes.”Candy shook her head. “I

don’t do it to keep my feetwarm. I have to be preparedincaseIneedtorun.”

Hannah stood at thestovetop, stirring the hotchocolate and listening toNorman and Candy. He’donlybeentalkingtoherforafewmoments,butalreadysheseemed comfortable withhim.“You don’t have to worry

aboutthatanymore,”Normantold her. “Hannah’s going toletyoustay.”“Whywouldshedothat?”Hannahjumpedin,righton

cue. Norman had given herthe perfect opening for theplan she’d been hatching.“Because I could use somehelp around here. Have youeverworkedasawaitress?”“Sure,” Candy replied

quickly, and then she gave alittle sigh, “but not the wayyou mean. I could do it,though. I know I could. Imean, I know how to set atable, and pour coffee forpeople,anddishupfoodand

stuff like that. And I canmake candy for your shop.I’vebeenmakingcandyforacouple of years now, eversince I turned thir . . .”—Candy stopped abruptly andswallowed hard—“. . . eversinceIwasreallyyoung.”Hannah smiled. Getting

information from a chilled,tired teenager wasn’t at alldifficult. She’d alreadylearned that Candy’s lastname startedwithR, shehad

a mother and a deceasedfather who’d been aveterinarian, and a couple ofyears had passed since she’dbeen thirteen. If thiskeptup,they’d have the story ofCandy’s life before they’dfinishedtheirhotchocolate.“Here you go,” Hannah

said,carryingCandy’smugtotheworkstationandsetting itdown in front of her. Shepoured a mug for Norman,filled one for herself, and

delivered those, too. “I don’tknow if you’re still hungry,butwouldyoulikeacookie?”Candy looked delighted.

“You bet! I mean . . . yes,please.Youmakereallygoodcookies.”“Thanks.” Hannah hid a

grin as she carried a plate ofher newest creation to thetable. Obviously, Candy hadbeen taught to be polite andthatwasanotherfacttoaddtothemix.“Youtwocanbemy

taste testers,” she told them.“I’mtryingoutanewcookieand I’m not sure what I’mgoing to call it. Maybe youcan helpme come upwith aname.”“They’re good,” Norman

said, after the first bite.“That’sraspberryItaste,isn’tit?”“Yes. I made them with

seedlessraspberryjam.”Candy finished her first

cookie and started to reach

for a second. Then she drewher hand back and looked atHannah.“CouldIpleasehaveanother?”“Ofcourse.Helpyourself.”“I like theway theoutside

crunches and the inside ischewy.” Candy took anotherbiteandthenshelookedoveratHannahagain. “Couldyoumake them with other jams,like blackberry? Orstrawberry,ormixedberry?”“Idon’tseewhynot.They

might not be as attractive ifyou used blueberry, but anyotherberryshouldbefine.”“That’s perfect, then.How

about ifyoucall themMerryBerryCookies?Itrhymesandeverything, and that meansit’ll be easy to remember.And eating them makes youhappy so that’s where the‘merry’partcomesin.”“What a great idea!”

Normanpraisedher.“‘MerryBerry Cookies’ sounds

perfect to me. Are you sureyou don’t have an advanceddegreeinmarketing?”CandygiggledandHannah

felt like beaming. Normanwashelping to relaxher, andperhaps she’d tell themmoreabout her background andwhat she was doing here inLakeEden.“I don’t have an advanced

degree in anything. I haven’teven finished . . .” Candyhaltedandclearedher throat.

“I haven’t even declared mymajoryet.”Hannah glanced quickly at

Norman. They both knewwhat Candy had been abouttosay.Ihaven’tevenfinishedhighschool,wouldbeafairlysafeguess.“How old are you,

Candy?” Norman asked thequestionthatwasonthetipofHannah’stongue.Itwouldbeinteresting to see how manyfictional years Candy would

addtoheryounglife.“Twenty,” Candy said,

without batting an eyelash,and Hannah got theimpression she’d told thatparticular lie before. “I’ll betwenty-onenextmonth.”Hannah and Norman

locked eyes. Even thoughthey didn’t say a word,Hannah got the feeling thatNorman could read hermindand he agreedwithwhat shewasthinking.Morequestions

wouldservenopurposeotherthan to elicit more lies fromCandy.Itwastimetocallitanightandlether thinkthey’dbelievedher.Norman gave a yawn that

Hannahsuspectedwaspurelytheatrical, and finished hismugofhotchocolate. “We’dbetter hit the road, Hannah.Tomorrow’s a workday andyouhavetogetupearly.”“Right,” Hannah agreed,

andthensheturnedtoCandy.

“You’llbeperfectlysafehereif you lock the door behindus. I’ll be back around fivetomorrowmorningtostartthebaking.”“I’llhelpyou. I like toget

up early. Is there anything Icandobeforeyoucomein?”“Only ifyougetupbefore

five.”“Oh, I will. I’ll be up by

four-thirty.”“Then you can put on the

coffee.” Hannah motioned

toward the kitchen pot. “Thegrounds and filters are in thecupboard to the left of thesink.”“Okay.It’sjustlikethepot

Dad had at the clinic, so Iknow how to do it. Howstrongdoyoulikeit?”“Asstrongasitgets.”Candy nodded quickly.

“You want me to fill thebasket almost all the way tothetopwithgrounds?”“That’dbeperfect.Thanks,

Candy.”Hannah slipped intoher coat and pulled on hergloves. “I’ll see you in themorning,then.”HannahandNormanmade

their exit. They stoppedoutside the door, and byunspoken agreement theywaiteduntiltheyheardCandylock the door behind them.Then they hurried toNorman’scarandclimbedin,shivering.“I’ll get the heater going

right away,” Normanpromised,firinguptheengineandturningtheheatertohigh.Hannah shivered as he

backed up the car. Sheshivered some more as hedrove out of the parking lotanddownthealley.ButwhenNormanstoppedattheendofthe alley, she realized thatshe’dstoppedshivering.Asamatteroffact,shehadtoslipoff her gloves and unzip herparka a bit because she was

too warm. Norman’s heaterwaspouringoutwavesofhotair that felt positivelytropical.One glance at the

windshield and Hannah wasevenmoreimpressed.Insteadof the patches of frost thatclung to the inside of herwindshieldforthefirstfiveorsix miles of winter driving,Norman’s windshield wasalready picturewindow clearand they’d been driving less

thanablock!Just tomake sure,Hannah

reached out to touch one ofthe buttons on the radio. Itwaswarminsteadoficycold.“Iloveit,”shebreathed.“Youlovewhat?”“Your heater. If I knew

howtohookitup,I’dstealitandputitinmytruck.”“But then I’d freeze.

Maybewe’dbetterworkoutacompromisethat’llmakebothofushappy.”

“What did you have inmind?”“Icoulddriveyoutowork

every morning and backhomeeverynight.Thenbothofuswouldstaywarm.”Hannah had a feeling she

knew what was coming, butshe decided she’d biteanyway. “But you live intown, and I liveoutof town.Would you really be willingto make two round-trips aday?”

“I’donlyhavetomakeoneround-trip if I stayed at yourcondo.” Norman gave her agrin that looked positivelydevilish,andthenhewaggledhiseyebrowsupanddowntoaddtotheillusion.Hannah laughed at his

antics.“Onlyinyourdreams,Norman!” she retorted. Butshe had to admit thatNorman’s compromise didhave a certain appeal thatwasn’t entirely due to the

coldwinterweather.

MERRYBERRYCOOKIES

Don’tpreheattheovenyet—thiscookiedoughhasto

chillbeforebaking.

1½ cupsmeltedbutter(3sticks,¾pound)

2 cupswhite

(granulated)sugar

½ cupmeltedraspberry,blackberry,strawberry,or anyberryjam (IusedKnott’sseedlessraspberry)

2 beateneggs

½teaspoonbakingsoda

1teaspoonsalt

4 cupsflour(packitdownin the

cup—don’tsiftit) cupwhite(granulated)sugarforlater cupberryjam forlater

Melt thebutter in alargemicrowave-safebowl.Addthe whitesugar and mixit inthoroughly.Let the bowlsit on thecounter while

you do thenextstep.

Melt the

jam in themicrowave orin a saucepanover low heat.Once it’s theconsistency ofsyrup, mix itin with thebutter andsugar.

Add the

eggs, bakingsoda, and salt,stirring aftereachaddition.

Add theflour and mix

thoroughly.Cover thebowl andrefrigerate thedough for atleast 2 hours.(Overnight’sevenbetter.)

When

you’re readyto bake,preheat theoven to 350

degrees F.,rack in themiddleposition.

Roll the

chilled doughinto smallwalnut-sizedballswithyourhands. Put 1/3cup whitesugar in asmall bowl

and roll theballs in it.Place them ona greasedstandard-sizedcookie sheet,12cookiestoasheet. Flattenthe doughballs with agreasedspatula. Makea smallindentation

with yourthumb orindexfinger inthe center ofeach cookie.Fill theindentationwith a smallbit of jam(aboutteaspoon.)

Bake the

cookies for 10to 12 minutesat 350 degreesF. Let themcool for 2minuteson thecookie sheet,and thentransfer themto a wire rackto finishcooling.

These

cookies freezewell. Rollthem up infoil, put themin a freezerbag, and besneaky abouthow you labelthem or thekids will findthem and eatthemfrozen.

Yield: 8 to

10 dozen,depending oncookiesize.

ChapterFour

Perhaps a more imaginativeperson could have seenmythical figures in theirregular swatches of plasteron her bedroom ceiling, butHannah wasn’t in the mood.She also wasn’t keen oncounting sheep, reciting hertimes tables all the waythrough the dreaded sevens,

or mentally cataloguing hercookierecipes.Hernever-failsleepaid,readingthestatutesof the Winnetka CountyHealth Board, hadn’t evenmade her eyelids heavy, andthere was no way she wasgoing to take any over-the-counter remedies when shehadtogetupinlessthanfivehours.Hannah switched on the

light, causingher bedmate toblink and then stare at her

with startled yellow eyes.She’d been tired whenNormanhadleft,sotiredthatshe’dbarelybeenable togetreadyforbedandclimbunderthe covers. The pillow hadbeen perfectly supportive,cradlingherheadjustso,andthe quilt had formed awarmand comforting cocoon.Moishe had purred softlybesideher,actuallylettinghercuddle him close for tenseconds or so before he’d

paddeddown to sleeponherfeet, and the rhythmicwhooshofwarmairfromtheheatventshadbeenpositivelysoporific. Unfortunately, ithad all gone downhill fromthere.She’d started thinking

aboutCandyandhowfranticher family must be, and thathadmadehereyesopenwideand her mind kick into highgear. She had to figure outwhere Candy came from,

discoverwhyshe’drunaway,and try toget her togobackhomewhereshebelonged.There was no way she

could sleep with a problemthis weighty on her mind.Hannah put on her slippersand shrugged into her robe,knotting the sash around herwaist. She always thoughtbest when she was cooking,and since she was wideawake anyway, shemight aswell look for Ibby’s toffee

recipe and make it tonight.Shecould takesome toworktomorrow morning soNormancouldtasteit.“Coming?” Hannah asked,

turning to look at her felineroommate. But Moishe hadcommandeeredherpillowthemoment she’d left it and hewas stretchedouton top likea sphinx, his front pawsaligned in front of him, hisheadheldperfectlyerect,andhisexpressionregal.

“Guess not,” Hannah said,answering her own questionas she walked out of theroom.To Hannah’s sleep-

deprived eyes, the kitchenappeared glaringly brightwith its white walls andappliances. She had the urgetofetchhersunglassesasshegot out her box of recipesmarked“TOTRY”inbigred

letters. She lifted the lid,frowned at the pieces ofmulticoloredandmismatchedpaper that were stuffedhaphazardly into the interior,andsetitdownonthekitchentable with a clunk. Then sheput on the coffee, snatchedthecarafeaside,andstuckhermugdirectlyunderthestreamof fresh coffee drippingthrough the grounds. Whenher mug was full, shecompletedherjugglingactby

removing her mug andreplacingthecarafe.Going through recipes

without reading them waslike eating a cream puffbefore it was filled. EventhoughHannahdidherbesttopage quickly through them,she found herself pulling outseveral she wanted to tryimmediately, some sheneeded to make forChristmas,andevenmoresheintendedtotrywithinthenext

fewmonths.Hermugwasemptybythe

time she finished sorting allthe papers in the box, andHannahgotuptorefillit.Shehadn’t found Ibby’s toffeerecipe, but she was sure shehadit.There was another place

she could look. Hannahheaded for the bookshelf inthe living room where shekept her collection ofcookbooks.Onewasfromher

father’s mother, GrandmaIngrid,andithadanenvelopefor recipes on the inside ofthe front cover. She mighthaveslippeditinthere.By the time she’d finished

going through the envelope,Hannah had a fistful ofrecipes toadd toherpilesonthe kitchen table.Unfortunately, Ibby’s toffeerecipe wasn’t among them.That meant there was onlyone more place to look and

the moment Hannah thoughtofit,shewasoffandrunningto the guest room closet,whereshewasalmostcertainshe’d stashed her old collegebackpack.It took some doing. The

closet was stuffed with cast-offclothingandotheruselessitemsshehadn’tbeenable tothrow away, but eventuallyHannah emerged from thedepths, her search complete.Her naturally unruly red hair

had been made even moreunruly by an intimateencounterwith a black plushcoat thathadbelonged tohermaternal grandmother, butshewasclutchingabrightredbackpackcoveredwithsewn-onpatchesfromexoticplacesshe’dneverbeen.“I found it!” she said, as

she switched off the lightsandcarrieditdownthehalltothekitchen.Thatwasanotheradvantage of living alone.

There was no one to thinkyouwere crazy if you talkedto yourself. And on the off-chancethatsomeonedroppedby and caught her at it,Hannahcouldalwayspretendshe’dbeen talking toMoisheand she hadn’t realized he’dlefttheroom.Hannah sat down, took

another sip of coffee, andeyed the backpack. Withoutbooks it seemed oddlydeflated,likeabeachballthat

hadbeenleftoutallwinter.Itdidn’t look promising, but itwas the only place she hadlefttolook.“Here goes nothing,”

Hannah said to the cat thatwasn’tthere,andplungedherhanddownintothebottomofthe backpack. The first thingshe encountered was her oldlunchsackwithsomethinginthe bottom.Whatever itwas,orhadbeen,itwaslightyearspast the expiration date.

Hannah also found a pair ofsunglasses, a handful ofassorted pens, and acombination lock to whichshe’d forgotten thecombination. Eventually herfingers touched paper, stiffpaper the size of an indexcard.Heartbeatinghard,Hannah

drew her hand from thebackpack and took a look. Itwas Ibby’s recipe forMetaphysicalEnglishToffee.

Shecouldhardlywaittotasteitagain!Aquickglanceatthelistof

ingredients and Hannahrealized that shewas in luck.She had everything, even apackage of Club Crackers.They were her mother’sfavorite cracker and Hannahhad stocked up for theholidays.Itdidn’ttakelongtolinea

panwithfoilandsprayitwithnonstick cooking spray.

Hannahcovered thefoilwithcrackersandmixedthetoffeeingredients together in asaucepan.Asshewasstirringthe boiling toffee mixture,waiting for five minutes toelapse, she thought aboutCandy again. It certainlycouldn’thurttoaskanexpertsome questions, and she hadan expert right in the family.Her brother-in-law, Bill, wasasheriff’sdeputy.Hannah glanced at the

clock. It was eleven-thirty,but Bill always stayed upuntilmidnight.Ifshewereinluck, he’d answer the phonebefore it woke her sister,Andrea. Hannah reached forthe phone, punched in thenumber, and kept right onstirringwhileitrang.“It’srighthereonthetable

by the front door. You musthave set it down while youwere looking for your carkeys. I’ll drive it out there

rightnow ifyouwantme to,butthatmeansIhavetowakeTraceyand...”“It’sme,Andrea,”Hannah

said, interrupting what wasobviously an explanationmeant for her brother-in-law.“Bill left for work and heforgothislunch?”“Yes, and he’s pulling a

double. One of the guyscalledinsick.”“Do you want me to take

somethingouttohim?”

“That’s nice of you,Hannah, but you don’t haveto. He can just call out forpizza again. He’s done thissame thing a coupleof timesbefore,andthat’swhathedidthen.”Therewasapause,andwhen Andrea came back onthelineshesoundedpuzzled.“Come to think about it, it’susuallywhenImakebolognaand pimento cheesesandwiches. If I didn’t knowbetter,I’dthinkhedidn’tlike

them.”Hannah didn’t join in as

hersistergavealittlelaughatwhat she assumed was anabsurdity.Hannah had tastedAndrea’s bologna andpimento cheese sandwiches.Once. On a scale of one toten,theywereaminussix.“Whatareyoudoingupso

late?”Andreaasked.“Making toffee. If it’s

good,I’llsavesomeforyou.”“Anything you make is

good.And I love toffee. Is itthe kind with the chocolateandnutsontop?”“That’sright.”“Oh, good! That’s Bill’s

favorite, too.Maybe you canteachmehowtomakeit.”When cows do calculus,

Hannah thought, but shedidn’t say it. Andrea was adisaster in thekitchen.Therewas no way a mere mortalcouldteachhertocook.“So did you need

something?” Andrea asked,erasing Hannah’s mentalimageofbovinesstandingontheir hind legs to writecomplicated mathematicalformulasonachalkboard.“Not really. I just wanted

toaskBillaquestion.”“AboutMikeKingston,I’ll

bet.” Andrea named thenewest detective on thesquad. “Well, I can saveyouthetrouble.MiketoldBillhehad a great time going

bowling with you. And he’sgoingtoaskyououtagainforthisweekend.”“That’s...great,”Hannah

said. She wasn’t sure sheliked the early date-warningsystem, but it was probablyunavoidable since Bill wasworkingwithMike.“Anyway, if there’s

nothingelse,I’vegottogettobed. I’ve got an early daytomorrow.”“You’re getting up early?”

Hannah hoped she didn’tsoundas shockedas she felt.Andrea set her own hours atLake Eden Realty. Sheusually slept until nine or soandthentookanotherhourtoget ready for work. Sincemost people didn’t go outhouse hunting until noon orlater, that worked out justfine.“I’ve got a showing at

one,” Andrea explained.“AndthatmeansIhavetoget

upatseven.”“It takes you six hours to

getreadyforashowing?”“Of course not! It’s just

that tomorrow afternoon isthe Dorcas Circle LuncheonandtheCut’nCurlisbookedsolid. The only time Bertiecansqueezeme in isateightin the morning. And thatremindsme...”“I’ll be glad to,” Hannah

interrupted, knowing exactlywhat her sister was going to

ask. “Just bring Tracey inbeforeyougotoBertie’s,andI’ll make sure she gets toKiddieKornerontime.”“Thanks,Hannah.You’rea

doll,youknowthat?”“Iknow.That’swhyMike

wantstotakemeoutagain.”“Actually . . . that’s not

why,” Andrea said, takingHannah literally. “He toldBill you were the funniestwomanhe’devermet.”Hannah tried to think of

something to say, but it wasdifficult. She wasn’t sure ifbeing funny was moreimportant than being a doll.She also wasn’t sure if whatMike had said was acompliment or not.After all,clowns were funny, but youwouldn’t necessarily want todateone.The timer dinged, saving

her from analyzing theproblem further, andHannahpulled her pan of toffee off

theheat. “I’vegot togo.Mytoffee needsme. I’ll see youinthemorning,Andrea.”Pouring the hot candy

mixture over the crackerswasn’t difficult and neitherwas slipping thepan into theoven. Hannah set the timerfor tenminutesandsatdownatthekitchentabletowait.Ifthe toffee turned out well,she’d drop some off for Billon her way in to worktomorrow morning. He’d

probably ask her to join himfor some perfectly dreadfulsquad room brew thatresembled coffee about asmuchasatractorresembledahigh-performance sports car,butitwouldgiveherachanceto ask him some theoreticalquestions about policeprocedureandrunaways.Whenthetimerrangagain,

Hannah took the pan out oftheovenandsprinkledonthemilk chocolate chips. She

waited until the chips startedto melt, and then she spreadthem out with her spatula.Onceshe’dscatteredchoppedpecans over the top and putthepanintherefrigerator,shecleaned up the kitchen andheaded off to bed for asecondattemptatsleep.Just as she’d expected,

Moishe was still spread outon her pillow. Hannahclimbedintobedontheotherside and grabbed Moishe’s

pillow. It was foam and shehatedfoampillows.Notonlythat; it was lumpy foam thatwas starting to crumble andsmell. It was almost worsethannopillowat all, but shewas simply too tired to getinto a turf war with her catover the expensive goose-down pillow she’d bought atthe Tri-County Mall. Shebunchedthefoamup,shovedit under her neck, and hopedthat she wouldn’t be as stiff

as a board in the morning.And then, even though shewasn’t used to sleeping onthat side of the bed, and thefoam pillow felt like a giantbag of petrified miniaturemarshmallows, and she’dforgotten to take off herslippers, she fell asleepalmostinstantly.

IBBY’SMETAPHYSICAL

ENGLISHTOFFEE

Preheatovento350degrees,rackinthemiddleposition.

16-ounceboxClubCrackers***(MineweremadebyKeebler)

1 cupbutter

(2sticks,½pound)

1 cupbrownsugar(tightlypacked)

2 cupsmilkchocolatechips(12-

ouncebag)

2 cupschoppedpecans(saltedorunsalted,itreallydoesn’tmatter)

*** Thereare threepackets in a16-ounce boxof ClubCrackers.You’lluseonlyone packet.You can buy asmaller box ifyoucanfindit,but you canalways use

extracrackers,right? If youcan’tfindClubCrackers atyourstore,youcan use anybrandofsaltedsoda crackers.Yourgoalistocover thebottom of thepan ascompletely asyou can with

somethingboth crispyandsalty.

Line a 10-

inch by 15-inch cookiesheetwithfoil.If you have ajellyroll pan,that’s perfect.If you don’t,turn up theedges of the

foil to formsides.

Spray thefoil with Pamor othernonstickcooking spray.(You want to

beabletopeelit off later,afterthecandyhardens.)

Linethepan

completelywith ClubCrackers, saltsideup.Coverthe wholebottom. (Youcan break thecrackers in

pieces tomakethem fit if youhave to.) Setthe cracker-lined jellyrollpan or cookiesheet asidewhile youcookthetoffeemixture.

Hannah’s

1stNote:Youdon’t need a

candythermometerto make thiscandy.

Combine

thebutterwiththe brownsugar in asaucepan.Bring it to aboil overmedium highheat on the

stovetop,stirringconstantly.Boil it forexactly fiveminutes,stirring itconstantly.Ifitsputters toomuch,youcanreduce theheat.Ifitstartsto lose theboil, you can

increase theheat.Justdon’tstopstirring.

Pour the

mixture overthecrackersasevenly as youcan.

Hannah’s

2nd Note: Istart bypouring the

mixture inlinesfromtopto bottomover thelength of thepan. Then Iturn it andpour morelines over thewidth of thepan.Oncethewhole pan iscrosshatchedwith the hot

toffeemixture, Ipour anythat’s leftwhere it’sneeded. If itdoesn’t coverthe crackerscompletely,don’t worry—it’ll spreadoutquiteabitintheoven.

Slide thepan into theoven and bakethe toffee at350degreesF.for10minutes.

Remove the

pan from the

oven andsprinkle themilk chocolatechips over thetop. Give thechips aminuteor two tomeltand thenspread themout as evenlyas you canwith a heat-resistantspatula, a

woodenpaddle, or afrostingknife.

Sprinkle the

choppedpecans overthe top of thechocolate andrefrigerate thepan.

When the

toffee has

thoroughlychilled, peel itfrom the foiland break itinto random-sizedpieces.

Hannah’s

3rd Note:Ibbyusedhertoffee as areward forhigh quizscores. Once

you taste it,you’ll knowwhyIcanstillrecite at leastone stanzafrom each oftheMetaphysicalPoets.

ChapterFive

The headlights of Hannah’scookie truck glared againstthe row of single-panewindowsmarchingacrossthefront of the squat red brickbuilding that housed theWinnetka County Sheriff’sDepartment. It was a fairlynew structure, built withcounty money, and the

windows, one to each office,didn’t open. This made itmore energy efficient,according to countygovernment guidelines.Regardless of the season orthe outdoor temperature, theinside was maintained at apolitically correct sixty-eightdegrees.There were eight head-in

parking spots that wereearmarked for visitors, andHannah had her pick of all

eight of them. Since hermother hadn’t raised a fool,shetooktheoneclosesttothefront door. Grabbing thesample box of toffee she’dpreparedbeforeshe’dlefthercondo, and armedwith threebags of day-old cookies thatwould be speedily devouredbyanyoneondutyinside,shemade a hasty exit from hertruckandhurried to thefrontdoor.Hannah pushed open the

firstdoorandsteppedintotheenclosure that served as acloakroom. It was narrow,more like a hallway than aroom,anditcontainedarackfor boots and a series ofhooksforhangingparkasandscarves. The door to theinside of the sheriff’s stationwas at the end, and theenclosure also served as abuffer between the frigidwinterairandthedeputywhomannedthefrontdesk.

Hannah couldn’t helpgrinningassheslippedoutofherbootsandhungherparkaonahook.The countyboardhad spent thousands ofdollars to research theenergy-saving innerdoor andouter door plan, somethingany Minnesotan who had anenclosed front or back porchcouldhavetoldthemforfree.Just as Hannah was

reachingfortheinnerdoortolet herself in, it opened and

Bill appeared. “Come on in,Hannah. I was in the officeandIsawyoupullup.”“Hi,Bill,”Hannah greeted

him,handingovertheplateoftoffee.“What’sthis?”“English Toffee. Imade it

last night. And I broughtcookies, too. Do you havetimeforcoffee?Ineedtotalktoyouaboutsomething.”“I’vegotnothingbut time.

It’s been dead as a doornail

all night.” Bill stopped andfrowned slightly. “I wonderwhatthatmeansanyway.”“Whatwhatmeans?”“‘Deadasadoornail.’I’ve

beensayingitallmylifeandIdon’tknowwhatitmeans.”“It dates back to the

thirteen hundreds.Shakespeare even used it inHenryIV.Mostscholarsthinkit came from clinching anail.”“What’sthat?”

“Drivinginalongnailandhammering the end over onthe inside, so it can’t beremoved. That’s what theyused to do before they hadscrews to lend extra strengthto things like doors. Thedoornails were called ‘dead’because they were bent andthey couldn’t be pulled outand used again.” Hannahstopped talking when shenoticed that Bill was staringatherinamazement.“What?”

Hannahsaid.“Iwasjustwonderinghow

youknowallthat.”Hannahshrugged.“Ireadit

somewhere and it just stuckin my mind. Things do thatsometimes.”“Okay, I’ll takeyourword

for it. Go on down to myoffice and I’ll get you somecoffee from the break room.It’sfresherthanwhat’sinthevendingmachine.”“But is it better?” Hannah

asked, and then she headedfor his office. She’d find outsoonenough.Hannah walked down the

hallway and opened the doorwith the fakebrassplate thatsaid, “William Todd,Detective” in stamped lettersdesigned to look likeengraving.Shesteppedinsidethe room that was morecubicle than office, and tookone of the chairs in front ofthe desk. Regular deputies

had desks in a type of squadroom. Each desk wasenclosed by chest-high wallsthat created a feeling ofprivacy if you were seated.That illusion was quicklyshatteredbystandingup,anddeputies practiced what theycalled the “over the backfence”communicationall thetime. When you needed totalk to another deputy, yousimply stoodup, peeredoverthewalls,andshouted.

When Bill had madedetective, one of the perkswasanofficewithrealwalls,an actual door that locked,and a non-functioningwindow that looked over theguest parking spaces.As shewaited, Hannah turned tolook out Bill’s window. Hercookie truck was in plainsight, appearing more wine-colored than red in the washof bluish light from thespotlights mounted on the

front of the building. Noother “guests” had arrived.Her truck was the onlyvehicletobreaktheprofileoftheflat,whitesnowstretchingacrossthetreelessexpanseofcounty land that endedabruptlyattheroad.Hannah heard footfalls

outside in the hallway. Itmust beBillwith the coffee.Shequickly stucka smileonher face and took a deepbreath to steady herself. It

wasn’t in her nature to beduplicitous. Most peoplecould tell when she wasfeedingthemalinesimplytoget information.ButBill hadbeen at work for over fivehours already, and he wasboundtobetired.Perhapshewouldn’t tumble to the factthat thiswas farmore than asocialcall.“Look who I found in the

break room,” Bill said,steppinginwiththecoffee.“I

toldhimyoubroughtcookiesand he insisted on comingalong.”Hannah turned, expecting

toseeRickMurphyoroneofthe other deputies she knew,but instead she found herselfstaring at Mike Kingston.What was he doing here soearly? As head detective, heworked regular hours andnever drew a double unlesstherewasabigcaseor...“Hi, Mike,” she said,

interrupting her own train ofthought.“Hannah.” Mike took the

other chair in front of Bill’sdeskandreachedouttotouchherhand.“You’reupearly.”“I’m always up early. I

have to bake before weopen.” Hannah met hisfriendlyblueeyesandfoughtthe urge to lean closer. Theman was charismatic, not tomention incredibly attractive.“I didn’t know you worked

graveyards.”It wasn’t until Mike

laughed thatHannah realizedshe’d made a joke. Ahomicide detective workinggraveyards. Very funny.“Sorry about that,” sheapologized. “I was justsurprisedtoseeyouherethistimeofthemorning.”“I’m a morning person. I

like to come in when it’squiet and ease into the day.Billsaidyouwantedtotalkto

him. I can leave if it’spersonal.”“No! I mean . . . it’s not

personal at all. It’stheoretical. At least I hopeit’stheoretical.”Hannahtooka deep breath and went intothe speech she’d rehearsedduring her drive from thecondo.“Lisa’s cousin ran away

from home, and she’s onlyfifteen.Hermomthinksshe’sbunking inwith a friend and

she’ll come back when shegets tired of sharing abathroom,butsheaskedLisawhatwouldhappenifthegirlgotpickedupbythepolice.”Bill smiled as he reached

for a cookie. “That’s easy,Hannah. She’s underage, sothe authorities would returnher to the custody of herparents.”“Butwhat ifshewon’t tell

the authorities who herparents are or where they

live?”“That makes it a little

harder.”Billhanded the sackofcookiestoMike,whotookoneandpasseditback.“Thenthe authorities will remandher to the custody of ChildProtective Services until theparents can be located.Whatkind of cookies are these,Hannah?They’regreat!”“Butter-Scotchies. They’re

madewith butterscotch chipsand rolled oats.”Hannah did

her best to curb herimpatience.Sheneededmoreinformation, and she had tobe careful neither mansuspected that she wasdescribing Candy and herown situation at The CookieJar.“These are perfect for

breakfast,” Mike said,reaching for another,“especially because they’vegotoatmeal.Mymotherusedtotrytogetmetoeatitevery

morning,andIwouldhaveifshe’dbakeditincookieslikethese.”Hannah smiled to

acknowledgethecompliment,butitwastimetogetdowntobusiness. “Let’s say thisrunawayturnsuprighthereinLakeEden,andsherefusestocooperate with you. Shewon’t give her last name, orher hometown, or even herhome state. She claims she’sovereighteen,butshedoesn’t

lookitandshecan’tproveit.Whatstepswillyoutake?”“I’ll contact Lisa and tell

her to call her aunt. The girlcan stay with Lisa and herfatheruntilhermothercomestogether.”Hannah came close to

groaning. Mike was takingher literally.PerhapsshewasbetteroffaskingBill.“Okay,forget I mentioned Lisa. I’mcuriousandIwanttogobackto the theoretical. Let’s

pretend that you don’t knowthe girl and you don’t knowtheparents.Whatwillyoudo,Bill?”“After we interview her,

we’ll call Child ProtectiveServicestocomeandgether.They’ll take custody andmake sure she’s cared for.Then we’ll concentrate onfinding out where she camefrom.”“Howwillyoudothat?”“We’ll check the missing

persons reports,” Mikestepped in, “andcompare thepicturewe tookof her to thepictures on file. And we’llfile our own report with herpicture, saying we found herandlistinganythingweknowabouther.Thenwe’llrunherprints to see if she’s in thejuvie system. If she’s runaway from home before, shecouldbethere.”“And that’s it?” Hannah

asked,gazingat thetwomen

in surprise. “That’s all you’lldo?”“That’s all we can do,”

Mikecorrectedher.“So she’ll just stay in the

Winnetka County Children’sHomeuntil theydecideshe’seighteen?”Mikeshrugged.“That’sthe

way it happens sometimes.Butdon’tforgetthatthere’sareason she ran away fromhome in the first place.Maybeshe’sbetteroff in the

countyhome.”Hannahhaddonevolunteer

workattheWinnetkaCountyChildren’s Home. Thechildren were well cared forandthestafftriedtheirbesttomake it cheerful, but the oldgranite building was aninstitution,notarealhome.“Gotta run,” Mike said,

standing up and reaching outfor Hannah’s hand. “HowaboutSaturdaynight?Doyouwanttogohaveaburgerand

take in a movie orsomething?”“I’dloveto,”Hannahsaid,

glad that her voice hadn’tsqueaked, or quavered, ordone anything to show howexcited she was that he’daskedherforanotherdate.“See you at six, then. If

you’re ready to leave now,I’ll walk you to the frontdoor.”“We’llbothwalkhertothe

frontdoor,”Bill said,getting

to his feet. “It’s the leastwecandoforallthosecookies.”Hannah felt a little strange

asBill took her left arm andMiketookherright.Andshefelt even stranger as theywalked down the hallwaytoward the desk at theentrance. If anyone had beenwaitingintheplasticchairsinthelobby,shemighthavefeltthe need to explain that shewasn’t under arrest, that thedetective on her left was her

brother-in-law and the manonher rightwasher date forSaturdaynight.

BUTTER-SCOTCHIES

Preheatovento350degrees

F.,rackinthemiddleposition.

1 cupbutter(2sticks,½pound—melted)

1 cupbrownsugar

1 cupwhite(granulated)sugar

2 eggs—beaten(justbeatthemup in aglass

with afork)

1teaspoonbakingpowder

½teaspoonbakingsoda

½teaspoonsalt

1

teaspoonvanillaextract

2 cupsflour(don’tsift—pack itdownin thecup)

2 cupsbutterscotchchips

(an 11-ouncepackagewill dojustfine)

1½ cupsrolledoats(uncookedoatmeal—IusedQuaker’s

Quick1-Minuterolledoats)

Melt thebutter in largemicrowave-safe bowl.(About 90seconds on

HIGH.) Addthe sugars andletitcoolabit.Then add thebeaten eggs,bakingpowder,baking soda,salt, andvanillaextract.

Mix in the

flour and thenthe

butterscotchchips.Add therolledoatsandmix inthoroughly.Let the doughrest,uncovered, for10 minutes toallow thebutter tosolidify.

You caneitherdropthisdough byroundedteaspoon ontoa greasedcookie sheet,12 to a sheet,or roll the

dough in ballswith yourhands andplace them onthe cookiesheet, pushingthem downjust a bit sotheywon’trolloff on theirway to theoven. (I preferrolling thedough balls—

the cookiesturn out niceandround.)

Bake at 350

degrees for 12to 15 minutes.Cool on thecookie sheetfor 2 minutesand thenremove themto a wire rackto cool

completely.

Thesefreezereally well ifyou roll themin foil and putthem in afreezerbag.

Yield: This

recipe makesapproximately8 to 9 dozencookies,

depending oncookiesize.

Hannah’s

Note:Mother’sfriend Carriejust lovesthese when Iuseonecupofbutterscotchchipsandonecup of milkchocolate

chips.

ChapterSix

“Okay, so what’s going onwithLisa’saunt?”“Andrea?”“That’s right. Bill just

called and told me youbrought him some goodies.And while you were there,you told him that Lisa’scousin ran away from home.Isthattrue?”

“Well,actually…”“I didn’t think so,

especiallywhenBillsaidyouasked him some questionsaboutunderagerunaways.Sowhereareyoukeepingher?”Hannah glanced over at

Candy,whowashelpingLisatransfer several pans offreshly baked cookies to theglass jars they used fordisplay.When thephonehadrung at seven-thirty in themorning, she’d answered it

assuming that it was hermother.InsteaditwasAndreawithamouthfulofquestions.“Righthere.”Hannahgave

a little sigh. She thoughtshe’d done a fine job ofconvincingBillandMikethather questions were purelytheoretical.“Bill’sontome?”“No, Bill’s not on to you.

I’m theonewho’sontoyou.You never could fool me,Hannah.”“Notevensecond-hand?”

“Not even then. So whatgives?”Hannah sighed and

stretched the phone cord outsothatshecouldstepintothecoffeeshopformoreprivacy.Evenatayoungage,Andreahad always known whenHannahwastryingtopullthewool over her eyes. At thesame time, Andrea wasfiercelyloyaltoherfamily.IfHannahtoldheraboutCandyand asked her to keep it a

secret,Andreawouldn’tsayawordtoanyone.“Two nights ago, a

homeless girl broke into myshop togetoutof thecold. Ileft her some food last nightand managed to catch her. Itold her she could stay hereand I promised that Iwouldn’t call the cops. I’mprettysuresheranawayfromhome.”“And she’s underage?”

Andreaasked.

“Norman and I both thinkso.”“Normansawher?”“We had a date last night

andhehelpedmecatchher.”“Somedate!”Hannah chuckled. “Well,

that wasn’t all we did. Wewentouttodinnerfirst.”“Good.Atleastitwasn’ta

total waste. Sowhat are youplanningtodowithher?”“Keep her and try to find

her mother. She said her

father’s dead and that rangtrue.”“You’regoing to try todo

itbyyourself?”“Yes. If I turn her over to

theauthorities,they’lljustputherinthecountyhome.”“That’strue.”Andreagave

a little sigh that smacked ofresignation to Hannah.“Okay, I’ll help you. It’salmost like amurder andwealready know we’re good atsolvingthose.”

“Howis it likeamurder?”Hannah asked, torn betweenwanting a peek into hersister’s thought processes,and believing that she wasbetteroffnotknowing.“Instead of looking for a

killer, we’ll be looking for amother.”“Right,” Hannah said,

wishing she hadn’t asked.“Don’t forget that you’remarried to a sheriff’sdetectiveandI’mharboringa

runaway. Are you sure youwanttogetinvolved?”“Of course I do! I have to

save you from yourself.There’s no way you can getany information because youcan’t lie. You’ve never beenanygoodatit.”Hannah didn’t bother to

deny it, since her sister wasright.“I, on the other hand, am

anexpertliar!”Again, Hannah was mute.

Shedidn’twanttogetintoanargument about whetherexpertise in something thatwas morally reprehensibleshould giveAndrea braggingrights.“Just let me take care of

everything.I’llstopbytoseethe girl after I get my hairdone.And you shouldwatchheraroundTracey.”“She’sanicegirl,Andrea.

Shewouldn’thurtTracey.”“You underestimate me,

Hannah.Thatisn’twhyIsaidyoushouldwatchher.Ifshe’sreally good with Tracey, itmight mean she’s used tobeing around kids that age.And that might mean she’sgot a younger brother orsister.”“You’re absolutely right.”

Hannah knew it was time toeat a little crow. “Goodthinking.”“Thank you. I’m good at

thesethings.”

“You certainly are.”Hannah decided thatconstituted her last bite ofcrow. “Don’t forget to becareful what you say whenyou meet her. You can’t leton that you know she’s arunaway, or she’ll bolt andwe’llneverseeheragain.”“Right. What cover story

are you going to use aboutwhy she’s there at TheCookieJar?”“I haven’t come up with

oneyet.”“Then you should let me

do it. I’m better at coverstoriesthanyouare.Let’ssayshe’sEllen’syoungestsister.”“Ellen?”“Ellen Wagner, your old

college roommate. Youintroduced me when wedrove up for yourgraduation.”“You’re right. I’m

surprisedyourememberher.”“I remember the dress

more than her.Girls that bigshouldn’t wear large prints,especially in bright colors.She came from a big family,didn’tshe?”“Yes,inNorthDakota.”“That’ll work. A grain of

truth alwayshelps in a coverstory. Anyway, Ellen calledyouandaskedyoutohirehersisterforyourbusytimeoverthe holidays. And the reasonshewantedyou tohireher isbecause . . . What’s your

runaway’s first name? Doyouknowit?”“It’sCandy.”“Okay.” Andrea took a

deep breath that Hannahcouldhearover thephoneasshe picked up the threads ofher fabrication again. “EllenaskedyoutohireCandyovertheholidaysbecauseCandy’sboyfriend broke up with herandhestarteddatingherbestfriend. And Candy couldn’tstandtobein thesamesmall

townwiththem.”“That sounds good to me.

And itgivesusanothergrainoftruthforyourcoverstory.”“What’sthat?”“Everyone in Lake Eden

knowsIcouldusesomehelpover the holidays. Lisa and Iaresobusy,wehavetomakean appointment with theKleenexboxtosneeze.”Baking at The Cookie Jar

was a dream come true.Hannahwasniceandshesaidfunny things that made Lisaand Candy giggle. Candyhadn’t felt this good sinceshe’d grabbed her things andhit the road, and she foundherselfsmilingassheshapedapanofCandyCaneCookiestheway Lisa had taught her.Itwaseasy.Allyouhadtodowas roll out a spoonful ofwhite dough and another ofpink dough, twist the two

rolls together, and shape itinto a cane with a crook ontop.“We bake these only nine

minutes,” Hannah told her.“Any longer and the whitepartwillturnbrown.”“Wouldn’t that be golden

instead of brown?” Candyquipped, remembering howhermotherhaddescribed thecake they’d left in the oventoolong.Hannahlaughedandturned

to Lisa. “She’s a natural.She’salreadyreadthebaker’sexcusebook.”Candy finished the last

sheet of cookies and slippedthem into the oven. Theywere flavored with almondand her mother would haveloved them. There was abakeryonlythreeblocksfromtheir house and she used towalk down there everySaturday morning and buyMom a chocolate-covered

stickofmarzipan.Tears sprang to Candy’s

eyes. She really missed hermother. To keep fromthinking about her toomuch,she concentrated on thecookiesbakingintheoven.“You don’t have to watch

themeverysecond,”Lisatoldher.“Yousetthetimer,didn’tyou?”“Sure, I did. For nine

minutes. And I wasn’t reallywatchingthecookies.”Candy

blinkedthemoisturefromhereyes and turned to faceLisa.“Do youwant another candyrecipe? I just rememberedone.”“Youmemorizedrecipes?”Candy nodded. “I’ve got

oneofthoseweirdmemories.I can see the recipe in mymind and all I have to do isreaditoutloud.Iforgetwhatit’scalled.”“Photographic memory,”

Hannah supplied the term.

She was standing at thecounter, her back to Candyand Lisa, crushingpeppermint candy for thetopping on the Candy CaneCookies.“It’s likeyourmindtakesapicturewithacamera.There are times Iwish that Ihad a photographic memory,but I understand there’s adrawback.”“What’s that?” Candy

asked.“Photographic memories

aren’t very selective.Memorizing recipes is a skillthat could come in reallyhandy, but I’ll bet you findyourself memorizing a lot ofuselessthings,too.”“You’reright!”Candysaid

with a giggle. “I stillrememberthelicenseplateonour old van. It waspersonalized and it said,critters.Mom got it for Dadwhenheopenedtheclinic.”Lisa laughed.“That’scute.

How about your driver’slicense number? Did youmemorizethat?”“I don’t have…” Candy

stopped in mid-sentence.She’d told Hannah that shewas twenty and that meantshe should have a driver’slicense.“Idon’thavethatonememorized. I can name allthe books of the Bible inorder, though. I memorizedthemrightbeforewewent tovisitGrandpaSamuel.He’sa

Methodistminister.”“I’ll bet he was

impressed,” Hannah said,turningtosmileather.Candy nodded. “So was

Mom. And after that, sheused to ask me to memorizethingsforher.”“Whatthings?”“Thegrocery listwhenwe

went to the store. That wasjustincasesheforgotit.AndDad’s number at the clinic.Shecouldneverrememberit.

I tried to teach her, youknow? I told her it was allones, fours, and eights. Imean,howhard iseight-one-four,eight-four-four-one?Butshekeptgettingitmixedup.”Candy stopped speaking

and frowned slightly. It wastime to change the subject.She was talking too muchabout herself and she didn’twantHannahorLisatoguesswhereshecamefrom.“Whenwe’re through with the

cookies, do you want me tomake you a chocolate pecanroll? You could sell it inslices.”“That sounds fabulous,”

Lisa said. “How about it,Hannah?”“Absolutely. If there’s

anything you need that wedon’thave,I’llgiveyousomemoneyandyoucanrundowntotheRedOwl.”Candy thought about that

for a minute and then she

shookherhead.She’dtakenagood look at the contents ofHannah’s pantry the firstnight she’d stayed in TheCookieJar,andshe’dspottedalmost everything sheneeded. “Do you havebutter?”“We’vealwaysgotbutter,”

Hannah told her. “MyGrandma Ingrid used toalways say that there’snothing that doesn’t tastebetterwithmorecream,more

sugar,andmorebutter.”Candy laughed. It was a

funny line and she had torememberitsoshecoulduseitonMom.Butshewouldn’tsee Mom again, at least notforaverylongtime.“Anything else?” Lisa

promptedher,andCandywasglad. She was getting sadagain, thinking about Momandhome.“Chocolate in squares, the

kind that’s wrapped in white

paper.Ineedtwoofthem.”“Unsweetened,semi-sweet,

or German’s?” Hannah gaveherthreechoices.For a second, Candy was

stymied. She hadn’t knowntherewasmorethanonekindof chocolate that waswrapped inwhite paper. Theonesheneededsmelledgoodand tasted awful, but theymight not know that. “Just asecond,andI’lltellyouwhatthepackagesays,”shesaid.

Candy shut her eyes andthought about the packagethey kept in the cupboard athome.“Itcomesinanorangeand brown box and it saysBaker’s in bigyellow letters.And there’s a picture of alady in an apron right beforethename.That’satthetoponthe brown part. And then onthe orange part it says,Unsweetened BakingChocolate Squares.” Candyopenedhereyesandblinked.

“You were visualizing it,right?”Hannahasked.“Right.Doyouhaveit?”“Yes, we do. Anything

else?”“Just stuff you already

have. Do you want me towrite out the recipe to makesure?”“Good idea,”Hannah said,

handingherapenandoneofthenotebooks thatsecretariesusedtocarryintheoldblack-and-white movies Mom and

Dadused towatch. “It neverhurts to double-check. If welikeit,I’lladdittoourrecipefile.Putyournameontopsowe cangiveyou credit ifweuseitintheshop.”Candy took the notebook

and began towrite, feeling abit like an old-fashionedsecretary taking a letter inshorthand for her boss.Onceshe’d finished, she put herfirst name at the top of thepage, just likethey’ddonein

Englishclass,andsheerforceof habit almost caused herpentokeepgoing.Shecaughtherself just in time and drewalittledoodleinstead.

CANDYCANECOOKIES

Preheatovento375degreesF.,rackinthe

middleposition.

THETOPPING:

½ cuphardpeppermintcandy,

crushed***½ cupwhite(granulated)sugar

THECOOKIEDOUGH:

1 cupsoftenedbutter(2sticks,

½pound)

1 cuppowdered(confectioner’s)sugar

1 beatenegg(justmix itup in acupwith afork)

1teaspoonsalt

1½teaspoonsalmondextract

1teaspoonvanillaextract

2½ cupsflour(packit

downin thecupwhenyoumeasureit)

½teaspoonredfoodcoloring

***Youcanuseroundred-and-whitepeppermintcandies thatlook likebuttons,regular candycanes, or anyotherpeppermintcandy thatyoucan crush into

small separatepieces. Youcouldevenusepastel mints,the tiny little“pillows”you’llfindinapretty bowlright next tothemixed nutsat almostevery LakeEden weddingreception.

Hannah’s1stNote:Lisaand I preferto use the bigroundpeppermintcandies thatpracticallymelt in your

mouthbecausethey’re a loteasier tocrush.

Tomakethe

topping, placethepeppermintcandies in asturdy plasticbag and crushthem with arolling pin, or

a mallet.You’ll need ½cuptotopyourcookies.

In a small

bowl, mix the½cup crushedpeppermintcandies withthe ½ cupwhite sugar.Set the bowlasidefornow.

Tomakethe

dough, you’llneed twobowls, a smallandamedium-sized.

In the

medium-sizedbowl, combinethe softenedbutter,powdered

sugar, beatenegg, salt, andextracts. Stiruntil they’rewellcombined.Then add theflour in half-cupincrements,stirring aftereachaddition.

Round up

the dough anddivide it inhalf. Put onehalf in thesmall bowland cover itwith plasticwrap so itwon’t dry out.This will bethe white partof your CandyCaneCookies.

Blend thered foodcoloring intothe other half(the dough inthe medium-sized bowl.)Mixituntilit’sa uniformcolor. Thiswillbe the redpart of yourCandy CaneCookies.

Lightlyflour abreadboard orrectangularcutting boardandplaceitonyour counter.You’lluse thissurface to roll

thedough.

Remove ateaspoon ofwhite doughfrom the smallbowl and rollit into a four-inch-long rollby pushing itback and forthwith thepalmsof yourimpeccably

cleanhands.

Remove ateaspoon ofred doughfrom the bowland form asimilar four-inch-longroll.

Place the

two rolls sideby side on theboard, hold

them together,and twist themlike a rope sothat theresultingcookieresembles acandy cane.Pinch the endstogetherslightly sothey won’tseparate.

Place thecookie on anUNGREASEDstandard-sizecookie sheetand benddown the topto make acrook. Youshould be ableto get fourCandy CaneCookies in arow and three

rows to acookiesheet.

Hannah’s

2nd Note:The first timewe madethese, werolled out adozen whiteparts firstand then werolled out adozen red

parts. Ourdoughgot toodry sitting ontheboardandthe red andwhite twistswe formedcame apart.Nowweshapethese cookiesone at a timeand keep thedough bowlscovered with

plastic wrapwhen we’renot rolling.I’d reallyrecommendforming thesecookiesoneatatime.

Onceyou’vecompletedtwelvecookies, coveryour bowls ofdough withplastic wrap.You don’twant them todry outbetweenbatches.

Before youput your firstpanof cookiesin the oven tobake, spreadoutalengthoffoil and placeawire rack ontop of it. Thiswill hold yourhot cookieswhen youdecorate themwith the

peppermintcandy andsugar topping.Once thecookies arecompletelycool, they canbe transferredto a foil-linedboxoraplatterand you canround up anytopping that’sfallen through

theracktouseagain.

Bake your

cookies at 375degrees F. for9 minutes.(They shouldbe justbeginning toturn goldenwhen youremove themfromtheoven.)

Immediately

remove thecookies fromthe bakingsheet andplace them onthe wire rack.Sprinkle themwith themixture ofcandy andsugar whilethey are still

veryhot.

Continue toroll, shape,bake, and topyour cookiesuntil you runoutofdough.

Yield:Approximately4 dozencookies,depending oncookiesize.

CHOCOLATEPECANROLL

Hannah’s1stNote:Youdon’t need acandythermometer

to make thiscandy.

14-ouncecansweetenedcondensedmilk(NOTevaporatedmilk)

2 one-

ouncesquaresofunsweetenedchocolate(I usedBaker’s)

2½ cupssemi-sweetchocolatechips(15ounces)

1teaspoonbutter

1teaspoonvanillaextract***

pinch ofsalt

8-ouncepackagedriedapricots

(orpineapple,orcherries,orwhatever)

1½ cupsroughlychoppedpecans(measureafterchopping)

Hannah’s2nd Note:You don’tabsolutelypositivelyhave to useunsweetenedchocolatesquares. Ifyou don’thave them onhand,justusethree cups of

semi-sweetchocolatechips insteadof 2 ½ cupsand it’llworkoutjustfine.

***Youcan

usealmostanydried fruit inthis candy.Lisa tried itwith driedsweetened

pineapple andpineappleextract, and itwas delicious.If there’s anextract thatmatches yourfruit, you canuse it insteadofthevanilla.

Chop thedried fruit intopea-sizedpieces. Thenchop thepecans andmeasure outone and a halfcups. (This iseasy to do ifyou have a

foodprocessor, buta knife andchoppingboard willworkalso.)

Chop the

squares ofunsweetenedchocolate intochip-sizedpieces.(They’ll melt

faster thatway.) Emptythe can ofsweetenedcondensedmilk into a 2-quartsaucepan. Addtheunsweetenedchocolatepieces and thesemi-sweetchocolate

chips.

Stir themixture overlow heat untilthe chocolatehas melted.Give a finalstir and takethe pan fromtheheat.

Mix in the

butter, flavor

extract, salt,and the driedfruit. (Don’tadd the nutsyet—they’refor later whenyou make therolls.)

Put the

saucepan intherefrigeratorand chill thecandyfor30to

40minutes.

Take thepan out of therefrigeratorand divide thecandy in half.Placeeachhalfon a two-foot-

long piece ofwaxedpaper.

Shape each

half into a rollthat’sapproximatelya foot and ahalf long andabout 1½inches indiameter.

Roll the

candy logs inthe choppednuts, coatingthemasevenlyas you can.Press the nutsin slightly sothey’ll stick tothe outside oftheroll.

Roll the

finished logsincleanwaxed

paper, twistthe endsclosed, andplace them intherefrigeratorforatleasttwohours toharden.

Cut the

candy rollsinto half-inchslices with asharpknife.

Yield:

Makes about48 slices ofdeliciouscandy.

ChapterSeven

“Goodbye, Aunt Hannah.See you later!” Tracey gaveher a kiss that landed on herchin,andthensheranovertohugLisa.Oncethatwasdone,she gave a little wave inCandy’s direction. “’Bye,Candy. It was nice meetingyou.”“Nice meeting you, too,”

Candy said, giving Tracey afriendly smile. “Sorry aboutthatfractionthing.”“That’s okay. You didn’t

know. And I didn’t knoweither!”Both Candy and Tracey

laughed at that, and HannahwatchedhernieceasshewentoutthebackdoorwithJaniceCox, her preschool teacher.Janicehadcomeintopickupsome cookies she’d ordered,and she’d offered to give

Tracey a ride to KiddieKorner.“Comeon,Candy.Youcan

help me set up the tables,”Lisa said, herding the youngteenager, who claimed to betwenty, into the coffee shop.“Oncethat’sdone,we’llopenand I’ll teach you how to goaroundwiththecoffee.”Once they’d left, Hannah

reachedforthestenopadthatcontained the informationshe’d gathered about Candy,

andtookoutherpentomakeanotherentry.Onlychild?shewrote.ItwasclearthatCandyhadn’t had much experiencewith preschoolers. WhenTracey had offered to helpCandymix up the dough forthe Chocolate Mint Softiesthey were serving for theLake Eden Quilting Club’sChristmas party, Candy hadhanded her the recipe andasked her to measure thebrownsugar.

If Hannah had heard theexchange, she would havetold Tracey how much wascalled for in the recipe andgiven her the correctmeasuring cup. Her nieceknewhow tomeasure brownsugar. She’d helped Hannahand Lisa bake before. Shecould even identify the linethatcalledforbrownsugarinthelistofingredientsbecauseshe could read the wordsbrown and sugar. But the

ChocolateMintSoftiescalledfor two-thirds of a cup ofbrown sugar. And whileTracey knew her wholenumbers up to twenty, shedidn’tknowherfractionsyet.If Candy’d had a little sisteror brother, or if she’d spenttime with kids Tracey’s age,she would have known thatmost five-year-olds couldn’tevenreadyet,anditwouldbeseveral more years beforetheyunderstoodfractions.

Once she’d stuffed the listof clues to Candy’s identityback in the bottom of herpurse, Hannah began to fillthe display jars. She’d justfinished helping Lisa andCandycarrythemoutintothecoffee shop when Andreacameinthebackdoor.“Well?” Andrea asked,

breezinginwithoutknocking.She shut the door, tookseveral steps forward, andturnedaroundsmoothlylikea

model.“Whatdoyouthink?”“Gorgeous,” Hannah

replied. Her commentreferred to her sister’shairstyle, an elaborate twistwith feathered curls softlyframingher face, and also toher outfit. Andrea waswearing a bright coral woolsuit with fur around thecollar. It was a color thatHannah would wear only ifshe wanted to help JonWalker, the owner of the

Lake Eden NeighborhoodPharmacy, sell his entirestockofsunglasses.Redheadscouldn’twear coral. Itwas alaw.Or if it wasn’t a law, itshouldbe.“I think thebutterscotch is

good,don’tyou?”For a moment Hannah

thought her sister wasreferring to the batch ofcookies she’d taken to Billand Mike at the sheriff’sstation.Thenshenoticedthat

Andrea was holding out onefoot to show off her high-heeled boots that were madefrom butterscotch-coloredleather.“Very nice,” Hannah said,

wonderinghowAndreacouldpossibly walk in heels thathigh. “I hope you’re notshowingafarm.”“I’mnot,butwhy?”“Those heels are pretty

high for the country,especiallyifyouhavetowalk

upbanksofsnow.”“Highheelsarebetter than

flat heels. I can dig in withtheseandIdon’tslip.”Hannah’s mind flashed

back to a documentary she’dseenaboutmountainclimbingand the pitons they used asfootholds to scale steepslopes. She could visualizeher sister in the Himalayas,digginginwithherheelsandwalkingrightuptothetopofthemountain,passingveteran

climbers and their Sherpasalike.“Whyareyousmiling like

that?”Hannah knew Andrea

wouldn’t think her mentalimage was funny, so shemade up something on thespot.“Icouldn’tevenwalkinthosethings,muchlessclimbsnowbanks.”“Iknowyoucouldn’t.You

never bothered to practice.Remember how I used to

walk up and down on thelivingroomruginmyheels?”Hannah remembered, and

the memory brought onanother smile. Andrea hadclocked miles on their lime-green living room carpetwearing heels and whateveroldclothesshe’dputonafterschool. Sometimes it wasjeans and high heels. In thesummer, it was shorts andhigh heels. Occasionally itwaspajamasandhighheels.

“If you’d practiced asmuch as I did, you’d becomfortableinhighheels.”“No, I wouldn’t. I have

lousy balance and noinclination to break myneck.”“Well, whatever.” Andrea

pattedhershoulderbagpurse.“This purse wasn’t made bythe samemanufacturer, but Ithink it’s a goodmatch withmyboots.”“Looks good to me,”

Hannah said. She’d neverbothered having shoes andpursesthatmatched,butbothher mother and Andreainsisted that mismatchedaccessories were a fashionno-no.“Billcalledmeacoupleof

minutes ago and said hemight drop by.You clued inLisa,didn’tyou?”“Yes, if you’re talking

about her fictional aunt.Andshe knows that Candy is a

runaway who’s supposed tobe my college roommate’syoungersister.”“How about Candy? Does

sheknowwhoshe’ssupposedtobe?”“Not yet. I thought I’d let

you tell her. You’re the onewho made up her coverstory.”“Allright.Whereisshe?”“In the front helping Lisa.

I’ll go get her and introduceyou. Be really careful. She’s

still a little nervous, and shemight run if you say thewrong...”Hannah stopped speaking

astheswingingdoorbetweenthe coffee shop and thekitchen barged open andCandy rushed in. She didn’tlook to the right or the left.She just made a beeline forthebackdoor,jerkeditopen,andrushedout.“Uh-oh!” Hannah gasped.

“I’dbettergocatch...”

For the second time in arow, she stopped speaking inmidsentence, but this time itwas from sheer relief.Norman was coming in thebackdoor,andhehadCandybythearm.“We’vegottostopmeeting

this way,” he said, grinningdownather. “Whywereyourunning like that? I thoughtyou and Hannah workedthingsout.”“She called the cops!”

Candygasped.“Shepromisedmeshewouldn’tbutshe...”“No, I didn’t,” Hannah

interrupted.“Well,onejustcameinthe

door. And Lisa must haveknown what you were goingtodo,becauseshesaid‘Hi’tohim!”“Bill?” Hannah guessed,

turningtoAndrea.“Bill,” Andrea concurred,

gettingupfromherstool.“I’dbetter go out there before he

comesbackhere.”SheturnedtoCandy.“Nicetomeetyou,Candy. Bill’s my husbandandhewon’tbotheryou.I’mgoing to tell him that you’reHannah’scollegeroommate’ssister.”“What was that again?”

Candy asked, lookingperplexed.“Hannah will explain

everything.ButIwantyoutoknow that you don’t have toworry about a thing. There’s

nowaywe’regoingtoletyouspendChristmasatthecountychildren’shome.”

CHOCOLATEMINTSOFTIES

Preheatovento350degrees

F.,rackinthemiddleposition

2 one-ouncesquaresunsweetenedbakingchocolate

½ cup (1stick,¼

pound)butteratroomtemperature cupbrownsugar,firmlypacked cupwhite(granulated)sugar

½teaspoonbakingsoda

½teaspoonsalt

1 largeegg

1teaspoonpeppermintextract

½

teaspoonchocolateextract(if youcan’tfind it,justusevanilla)

¾ cupsourcream

2 cupsflour(packit

downin thecupwhenyoumeasureit)

¾ cupverycoarselychoppedpecanpieces(you’ll

wantsomebigpieces)

Line yourcookie sheetswith foil andspray withnon-stickcooking spray.Leave little

“ears” of foilsticking up onthe side, largeenoughtograblater. (This isso you canslide thecookies andthe foil rightoff the sheetwhen they’rebaked.)

Unwrap thesquares ofchocolate andbreak themapart.Putthemin a smallmicrowave-safe bowl. (Iusea16-ounce

measuringcup.) Meltthem for 90seconds onHIGH. Stirthem untilthey’resmoothand set themaside to coolwhile youmixupyourcookiedough.

Hannah’s

1st Note:Mixing thisdough is a loteasierwithanelectricmixer. Youcan do it byhand,but it’lltake somemuscle.

Combine

the butter andsugarstogether

in the bowl ofan electricmixer. Beatthem onmedium speeduntil they’resmooth. Thisshould takeless than aminute.

Add the

baking sodaand salt, and

resumebeatingon mediumagain foranotherminute, oruntil they’reincorporated.

Add theegg

and beat onmedium untilthe batter issmooth (anadditional

minute shoulddoit.)Add thepeppermintand chocolateextracts, andmix for about30seconds.

Shut off the

mixer andscrape downthebowl.Thenadd themeltedchocolate and

mix again foranotherminuteon mediumspeed.

Shut off themixer andscrape downthe bowl

again. At lowspeed, mix inhalf of theflour. Whenthat’sincorporated,mixinthesourcream.

Scrape

downthebowlagain and addthe rest of theflour. Beat

until it’s fullyincorporated.

Remove the

bowl from themixerandgiveit a stirwith aspoon. Mix inthe pecanpieces byhand. (A firmrubber spatulaworksnicely.)

Use ateaspoon tospoon thedoughontothefoil-linedcookie sheets,12cookiestoastandard-sizedsheet. (If thedough is toosticky for youto work with,chill it for ahalf-hour or

so, and tryagain.) Bakethe cookies at350 degreesF.,for10to12minutes, oruntil they riseand becomefirm.

Slide the

foil from thecookie sheetsand onto a

wire rack. Letthe cookiescool on therack while thenext sheet ofcookies isbaking. Whenthe next sheetof cookies isready, pull thecooledcookiesonto thecounter ortable and slide

the foil withthehotcookiesonto the rack.Keepalternatinguntil all thedough hasbeenbaked.

When allthecookiesarecool, set themout on waxedpaper forfrosting.

ChocolateButterFrosting:

2 one-ounce

squaresunsweetenedbakingchocolate,melted cupbutter,roomtemperature

2 cupspowdered(confectioners’)sugar

1½teaspoonsvanillaextract

Approximately2Tablespoonscream(ormilk)

Unwrap the

squares ofchocolate andbreak themapart.Putthemin a smallmicrowave-safe bowl. (Iusea16-ouncemeasuringcup.) Meltthem for 90seconds onHIGH. Stirthem until

they’resmoothand set themasidetocool.

When the

chocolate iscool, mix inthe butter.Thenstirinthepowderedsugar.(There’sno need to siftunless it hasbiglumps.)

Mix in the

vanilla extractand thecream.Beat thefrosting untilit’s ofspreadingconsistency.

Hannah’s

2nd Note:This frostingis the no-fail

type. If it’stoothick,adda bit morecream. If it’stoo thin, adda bit morepowderedsugar.

Frost yourcookies andleave them onthe waxedpaper until thefrosting hashardened. (Ifyou’relikeme,you’ll sneakone while thefrosting is stillsoft,justtotestit,ofcourse.)

When thefrosting hashardened,arrange thecookies on apretty platterand enjoy.They storewell in acoveredcontainer ifyou separatethe layerswithwaxpaper.

Hannah’s

3rd Note:Lisa says thatwhen she’s ina hurry anddoesn’t havetime to makeafrosting,shejust sprinklesthe cookieswith a littlepowderedsugar while

they’re stillwarm. Shedoes a secondsprinklingwhen they’recool and callsitaday.

Yield:

Approximately6 dozencookies.

ChapterEight

It was four days beforeChristmas and Hal& Rose’sCafé was decorated for theseason. There was a silvermetal Christmas tree in thecorner that was illuminatedby a spotlight with a slowlyrevolving color wheel. Thetreewas red for ten seconds,blue for ten seconds, green

for ten seconds, and yellowfor ten seconds. Then thecycle started all over again.Hal had purchased the treefromHannah’sfatheratLakeEden Hardware in theseventies, and it was stillgoingstrong.Hannah, Andrea, and

Normansatinthebackboothunder several strings ofmulticolored tinsel garlandsthathadbeenloopedovertheceiling light fixtures in a

crisscross pattern. A smallfakepoinsettiasatintheexactcenter of each table, andbrightly colored cardboardcutoutsofwreaths,snowmen,andsleighswere taped to thebacksofthebooths.Except for the perpetual

pokergamethatHalhostedinthe private banquet room inthe back, the restaurant wasdeserted.Itwastwo-fifteeninthe afternoon, too late forlunch, and too early for the

students at Jordan High toorder after-schoolhamburgers and french fries.Even Rose had defected.She’d refilled their mugs,plunked the coffee carafedownon the table, told themto help themselves, andheaded upstairs to theapartment over the restaurantto wrap a few Christmaspresents.“So what do we have so

far?” Andrea asked, blowing

onhercoffeetocoolitbeforeshetookatentativesip.Hannah got out her steno

pad and prepared to read hernotesaloud.Shewastakingabreather from work so thatthey could have a strategymeeting. Lisa and Candywere handling everything,and after a week at TheCookieJar,Candywasfittingright in. Everyone appearedto believe Andrea’s coverstory, although Hannah

thought Bill might be a bitsuspicious. He was letting itslide, though. Bill wasn’tabouttohaulCandyofftothecounty home right beforeChristmas, especially sinceshe was now staying in theguest room at Hannah’scondo.“She’s approximately

fifteen, she doesn’t have adriver’s license yet, and shelives with her mother. Herfatherwasaveterinarian,and

he’sdead.”Andrea shook her head.

“We don’t know that forsure.”“We don’t know what for

sure?” Hannah asked with afrown.“We don’t know her

father’sdead.”“Why would Candy lie

about something like that?”Normanwantedtoknow.“Divorce. Iheardallabout

it on a talk show.Somekids

don’t want to admit theirparents have broken up.They’drathersay thatoneofthemisdead.”Norman looked puzzled.

“Butwhy?”“It ends the discussion. If

someone says, My dad isdead,yousay,I’msorry.Andthen you change the subject.If someone says,My parentsare divorced, you might askquestions about which onetheylivewith,andhowoften

they see the other one, andthingslikethat.”Norman nodded. “That

makes some kind of sense,butIstillthinkhe’sdead.”“SodoI.”Hannahglanced

down at her notebook again.“I’m almost positive hername really is Candy. Sheanswerstoitevenwhenshe’sdistracted, and it soundsnaturalwhenshesaysit.AndI’mpretty sureher lastnamestartswithanR.”

“She told you that?”Andreaasked.“In a way, but she didn’t

mean to. That first nightwhen Iwoke her up, I askedher name. She said Candy,and then she began to saysomethingthatstartedwithanR. When she realized whatshe was doing, she stoppedcoldandtoldmethatIdidn’tneedtoknowherlastname.”“It’s probably anR, then,”

Norman decided. “What

else?”“She has a photographic

memory, although I’m notsure if that’s a clue or not.And when she wasdemonstrating it for me, shesaid she remembered thepersonalized licenseplatehermom gave her dad for hisvan. It said critters. And shetold us her dad’s phonenumber at his clinic. It waseight-one-four, eight-four-four-one.”

“That’s a great clue!”Andreaexclaimed,givingherathumbs-up.“Only if her father’s not

dead and the clinic she wastalkingaboutisstillopen.”“Chancesare,it’sstillopen

even if he’s dead,” Normantold her. “Most clinics don’tgo out of business when thedoctor dies. Look at myfather’s practice. If I hadn’tcome back to run it, mymotherwouldhave sold it to

another dentist.And you canbethewouldn’thavechangedthe number, since all thepatients already have it. Youseemedicalpracticesforsaleall the time. What you’rebuying is the equipment andtheexistingpatientlist.”Andrea gave him a bright

smile. “Norman’s right,Hannah. Just look at Bertie.She didn’t start the Cut ’nCurlfromscratch.Sheboughtthe former owner’s

equipmentandherclient list.AndIknowforafactthatshekept the same phonenumber.”“Maybe the vet clinic still

has the same phone number,but unfortunately, there’s ahitch.” Hannah didn’t botherto point out that buying amedical practice wasn’texactly the same aspurchasingabeautyshop,andthat Andrea was guilty oftrying to add apples and

oranges.“What’s the hitch?”

Normanasked.“Candydidn’tgiveme the

areacode.”Andrea waved off that

concern. “We ought to beable to get around that. Imean, how many area codescantherebe?”“Over two hundred sixty,

and that’s not countingCanada. I looked it up in thephone book. It would take

hours to dial all thosenumbers.”“I’ll do it,” Andrea

volunteered. “It won’t takeme that long since I’ve gotprogrammable one-buttondialing. All I have to do ispunch in the area code andmy phone will put in therest.”Hannah just shook her

head.“Okay,ifyouthinkyoucan do it, but I don’t evenwanttothinkaboutwhatBill

will say when you get yournextphonebill.”“He won’t say anything,

because it’ll be the same asthismonth’sphonebill.”“You have a cell phone

with unlimited minutes andno roaming charges?”Normanguessed.“That’s right. I’ll start

callingtheminuteIgethomeandwork untilBill comes inthedoor.I’lldowhatittakes,Hannah.IfIhaveto,I’llwait

untilhegoestosleepandI’llcallallnight.”“They might not be open

all night,” Hannah pointedout.“Iknowthat.Butsinceit’s

a clinic, there’s bound to beanansweringservice.Isthereanything else I should knowaboutCandy’sfamily?”Hannahglancedbackdown

at her notes. “Her mothertaught her how to makecandy, but you already knew

that. And here’s something,but it doesn’t do us a wholelotofgood.”Hannahpointedto a note she’d made. “Shesaid her Grandfather SamuelisaMethodistminister,but Idon’t know what side of thefamilyhe’son.”“Sofarthephonenumber’s

our best bet,” Norman said.“I’llhopontheInternettoseeif I can track down thatlicense plate, but it’s a longshot since she didn’t say

exactly how they spelled itandwedon’tknow the state.And if her father’s dead andher mother sold the van orsomething like that, the platecould have gone back intocirculation.”“I’vegotatheoryabouther

home state,” Hannah toldthem. “My guess is, it’s notMinnesota. We watched thenews last night right beforeshe went to bed, and shewasn’tabitjumpy.”

Norman gave a nod. “Andshewouldhavebeenjumpyifshewasafraidhermotherhadreported her missing? Andthey might show her pictureontelevision?”“Exactly. Not only that;

theydidasoundbitefromthegovernor’s last speech, andCandy asked me who hewas.”“Then she’s not from

Minnesota. Where do youthink she came from?”

Andreaasked.“Somewhere in the

Midwest, probably no morethanadayor twoawayfromLakeEden on the bus, or byhitchhiking. I could bewrong, but the night wefound her, I noticed that herclothes were still clean andher sleeping bag lookedalmostnew.”“That all makes sense to

me,” Andrea told them,finishing her coffee and

sliding out of the booth. “Ithink your idea about theMidwest is right, especiallysince she doesn’t have anaccent. I’ll try the Dakotasfirstandworkmywayaroundinacircle.WherewillyoubeifIgetahit,Hannah?”“I’m at the shop until six.

We’re closing at five, but Iwant to mix up a doublebatch of Fudge-Aroons totake to Sally’s ChristmaspartyonFridaynight.You’re

goingaren’tyou,Norman?”“Yes.Will you save me a

dance?”“Absolutely,”Hannahsaid,

hoping her smile wasn’tslipping.Normanwasagreatguy, but he wasn’t whatanyone without steel-toedboots might call anaccomplisheddancer.“HowaboutCandy?Isshe

going?” Andrea wanted toknow.“Of course. I told her it

wasoneofthebiggestpartiesof the year and she’s allexcitedaboutit.”“Doesshehaveadress?”“Not yet, but I talked to

Claire and I’m taking herover to Beau Mondetomorrow.”“Don’t forget shoes. She

can’tweartennisshoeswithafancypartydress.”“I won’t forget.” Hannah

wasgratefulforthereminder,butshewasn’tabouttolether

sister know that she hadn’teventhoughtaboutshoes.“Soyou’llbehomeat . . .

what?Six-thirty?”“That’saboutright.”“Okay.” Andrea turned to

go,but thenshe turnedback.“Whatdoyouwantmetosaywhen I find Candy’smother?”Hannah thought about that

for a moment, and sheremembered what Mike hadsaid. Some runaways had a

very good reason for leavinghome. “If the mother’s nottoo far away, see if you cangethertocomehere.Tellherthat if I bring Candy backwithout resolving anything,she’ll just run away again.And the next time she couldgetintobigtrouble.”“Okay, but what if she

won’tcomehere?”“Then I’ll go there,

wherever it is.” Hannah feltthe same surge of fierce

protectiveness sheexperienced when she heldsmall kittens and puppies.“Just make it clear that I’mnot letting Candy out of mysightuntilIknowshe’sgoingtobeokay.”

FUDGE-AROONS

Donotpreheatoven—thisdoughmustchillbeforebaking.

1 cupchocolatechips(6-ouncepackage)

1 cupbutter(2sticks,½pound)

½ cupbrownsugar

1½ cupswhite(granulated)sugar

2

teaspoonsvanillaextract

½teaspoonsalt

1teaspoonbakingsoda

2 beateneggs(justwhip

themupwithafork)

3½ cupsflour(notsifted—pack itdownwhenyoumeasureit)

Put the cupof chocolatechips and thecup of butterin a 4-cupbowl andmicrowave onhigh for 2minutes. Stiruntil smoothand let themixture coolwhile you do

thenextstep.

Combinethe brownsugar andwhite sugar ina largemixingbowl. Add thevanilla, salt,and bakingsoda. Mix inthe twobeateneggs.

Check thechocolate chipand buttermixture. If it’scoolenoughtotouch,addittothe sugarmixture andstirthoroughly.

Add theflour in half-cupincrements,stirring aftereachaddition.

Cover your

bowl andrefrigerate it.This dough

must chill forat least anhour.(Overnight isfine,too.)

Thecoconut

(“aroon”)filling mustalso chill.Mixitupnow.

COCONUTFILLING:

2 cupsshreddedcoconut

1 cupwhite(granulated)sugar

1 cupflour(notsifted—

pack itdownwhenyoumeasureit)

½ stickcoldbutter(¼cup,

pound)2 beateneggs

In a foodprocessor withthesteelblade,zoop up thecoconut withthe sugar andflour. Pulse itseveral timesso that thecoconut flakesare no longer

than a quarterinch.

Cut the

butterintofourpiecesandaddthem to yourwork bowl.Pulse again,until themixture lookslike coarsemeal.

Crack theeggs into asmall bowl ora cup andwhisk themupwith a fork.Add them toyour workbowlandpulse

until they’reincorporatedinto themixture.

(If you don’thave a foodprocessor, youdon’t have tobuy one tomake thiscookie—it’sjust a littlemessier when

the coconutflakes arelonger. Tomake thiscookie withouta foodprocessor, justadd all of theingredientsexcept thebutter to asmall bowland stir themup. Then melt

the butter andmixitin.)

Cover and

chill thecoconutmixture for atleast an hour.(Overnight isfine,too.)

When

you’re readyto bake,

preheat theoven to 350degrees F.,rack in themiddleposition.

Form balls

of chocolatedough, 1 inchin diameter,with yourhands. Placethem on a

greasedcookiesheet, 12 to astandard-sizedsheet. Pressthem downwith the heelof yourimpeccablycleanhand.

Form balls

ofcoconutjusta bit smallerthan the

chocolateballsyou made.Place them ontop of eachsquashedchocolate ball.Now squishthosedown.

Make 12morechocolateballs,thesamesizeasthefirstones, and putthemontopofthe squashedcoconut balls.Press themdown slightlyto make little“sandwiches.”

Bake at 350degrees F. for9 to 11minutes. Letthe cookiescool on thesheet for atleast twominutes.Whenthey’re coolenough toremove, use aspatula tomove them to

a wire rack tocompletecooling.

Yield:5to6

dozen yummycookies.

If you have

any coconutmixture leftover, formcoconut balls,12 to a baking

sheet, put amilk chocolatechip on top ofeach ball andpress it downslightly, andbake at 350degrees F. for10minutes.

Norman

wants me tomake thesecookies even

chewier—hesays it’llprovide morerevenueforhisdental clinic.(He’skidding...Ithink.)

ChapterNine

When the phone rang atseveninthemorning,Hannahgrabbed it. She’d been onpins and needles all night,wondering if Andrea wouldbe successful in her phonesearchforCandy’smother.“The Cookie Jar. This is

Hannah speaking,” she said,hoping it was her sister and

not another customer with abigcookiecateringordertheycouldn’t possibly fill beforeChristmas.“She’sthere,right?”ItwasAndreaanditdidn’t

take sisterly telepathy toknow that she was talkingaboutCandy.“That’sright.”“Meet me in the back

booth at Hal and Rose’s infifteenminutes.Sayyouhaveto deliver some cookies orsomething. I’ve got big

news!”Hannahfrownedastheline

wentdead.Andreawasproneto play drama queen, but ifshe’d managed to findCandy’s mother, Hannahwouldbe the first to applaudherperformance.“Is something wrong?”

Lisa asked, noticingHannah’sfrown.“Just another emergency

cookie order. I have to runoutwith three dozen, but I’ll

bebackbeforeweopen.Willyou bag them up for me,Candy?”“Sure.”Candygrabbedone

of their distinctive bags,snapped it open, and slippedon a food service glove.“Whatkinddoyouwant?”“Anything we can spare.

Youmusthaveheardthatoldsaying: “Baggers can’t bechoosers.”

“I love these cookies!What do you call themagain?”Andrearootedaroundinthebagtofindasiblingtothethreeshe’djusteaten.“Fudge-Aroons. Are you

goingtotellme,ornot?”“I’mgetting to it.”Andrea

glanced around, but no onewas paying the slightestattention to them. Theregulars were at the counter,downing mug after mug ofRose’s strong coffee, and

there were faint sounds ofsweepingasHalpreparedthebanquet room for the day’spoker game. Only one otherbooth was filled, and itwasn’t within earshot. CyrilMurphy and Father Coultaswere eating fried eggs anddouble orders of bacon forbreakfast, something Cyril’swife and Father’shousekeeper wouldn’t letthemhavebecausetheyweresupposed to watch their

cholesterol.“So you found the vet

clinic?”Hannahprompted.“Of course I did. It’s in

DesMoines, Iowa. I left mynumber with the answeringservice,butthevetdidn’tgetback to me until eight lastnight.”“AndhegaveyouCandy’s

homephonenumber?”“No,hedidn’thaveit.But

he told me the name of thelastvet.Candy’sdadwasDr.

Allen Roberts. He died lastyear, so Candy didn’t lieaboutthat.”“I didn’t think she was

lying.” Hannah shook herhead when Rose held up thecoffee pot. Her mug wasalmost empty, but now thatAndrea had finally started totellheraboutthephonecalls,she didn’t want anything tointerrupt her. “So Candy’slast name really does startwithanR.”

“That’s right. I calledinformation for her homephonenumber, but therewasnolistingforAllenRoberts.Ifigured that Candy’s mothermusthaveput it inhernameafter her husband died, so Igot a list of everyRoberts inDesMoines.”“Weretherealotofthem?”“I’llsay!Ineverthoughtof

Roberts as a common namebefore, but the operator gaveme dozens of numbers. I

startedcallingrightaway,butIhad tostopwhenBillcamehome.”“But you managed to find

Candy’s mother?” Hannahasked,cuttingtothechase.“Right before I called you

thismorning.Shecriedonthephone, Hannah. She’s beenworriedsickaboutCandyandshewassohappytohearthatshe’sallright.”Hannah couldn’t even

begin to imagine the stress

Candy’s mother had beenunder. “Did you ask her tocome here so we could helpworkthingsoutwithCandy?”“Yes,andsheagreed.Iput

her on hold and called Sallyattheinntoseeiftherewereany vacancies. When Sallysaid there were, Deana toldme she’d throw some thingsin a suitcase and they’d getontheroadrightaway.”“They’d get on the road?”

Hannah picked up on the

plural.“The threeof them.Deana

isCandy’smother.Itoldyouthatalready.Andthenthere’sDeana’snewhusband,Larry.AndhisdaughterAllison.”Hannah looked thoughtful.

“When did Candy’s mothergetmarriedagain?”“ThedaybeforeCandyran

away. And I know whatyou’re thinking,Hannah. I’mprettysurethathasalottodowithit,too.”

Hannah sighed, her heartgoing out to the teenagerwhose life had changed sodrastically in the past year.“Adeathinthefamily,anewstepdad,andanewstepsister.That’s bound to upsetanybody. Did Candy leave anote?”“Yes, and Deana’s

bringingitwithher.Shesaidshecrieseverytimeshereadsit.”

Mommy,I love you so much, and I

just want you to be happy. Iknow you love Larry and hemakesyoulaughthewayDadused to do. I’m really gladyou married him. He’s beengoodaboutnot tryingtotakeDad’s place and I know hedoesn’t mind it if I call himLarry instead of Dad. If itwas just you and Larry, Ithink we’d be okay. But itisn’t.

I can’t compete withAllison. Larry says she’sperfect and she’s won allthoseawards.Hetoldmethatshe’sbeautiful,andshesingsbetter than anyone ontelevision,and shemakes thehonor roll all the time.She’stotally different than I am.And Larry is going tocomparemetoherevenifhetriesnotto.It’s not going to work,

Mom. I’m never going to be

able to sing, and play theflute,andmakethehonorrolleverytime.That’swhyIhaveto leave. Allison is going tohatemebecause I’mnot likeher.And thenwe’ll fightandyou’ll stickup forme.That’sgoing to cause troublebetweenyouandLarry,andIdon’t want you to have tochoosebetweenus.Don’tworryaboutme. I’ll

findajobandbeokay.Ilookolder than I am and I’m not

afraid of hard work. WhenAllison graduates and goesoff to college, I’ll comebackforavisit.Andeveryonceinawhile,I’llwritetoyoutoletyouknowthatI’mallright.Pleasedon’ttrytofindme,

Mom.It’llruineverything.Iloveyou,Candy

Hannah looked up to find

three people staring at herover the coffee table inwhatSally had named The

Sunflower Suite by virtue ofthepatterninthelivingroomwallpaper. The three pairs ofconcerned eyes belonged toDeana,Larry,andAllison.“It’smyfault,”Larrysaid,

frowning. He was anattractive man with glassesand a neat little beard. “IwantedhertolikeAllisonandI guess I went overboardwhen it came to describingher.”The woman who looked

like an older version ofCandy shook her head. “It’smore my fault than yours. Ishould have realized thatCandy would be upset aboutsharingwithanotherteenagerherage.It’sarealadjustment.Fromthetimeshewasalittlegirl, she’s always had allmyattention.”HannahglancedatAllison,

who sat with downcast eyes.She was nice looking, a bitoverweight, but well dressed

in designer sportswear. Shewasn’t the beautiful girl thatCandy had written about inher note, and Hannah waswilling to bet the farm thatshe wasn’t a great singer oranacademicgeniuseither.“What do you think about

thiswholething,Allison?”“I wish she hadn’t run

away,” Allison said, andHannahcouldhearthehurtinher voice. “Dad alwaysmakes me out to be better

than I am.That’s because helovesmeandhecan’tseemyfaults.But I’ma realperson,and Candy would have seenthat if she’d stuck aroundlongenough tomeetme.Wecould have been friends ifshe’dgivenmeachance.”ThatwaswhatHannahwas

waiting to hear and shejumped in with both feet.“I’m going to give you thechance.”“Howare you going to do

that?”“You’re going to meet

Candy in a neutral place andseeifyoucangetalong.”“Thatwon’twork,”Allison

shook her head. “She’salready decided she doesn’twant anything to do withme.”Hannahsmiledasherplan

crystalized. The idea hadbegun to take form whenAllisonhadsaidthetwogirlshadnevermet.“Candywon’t

know who you are. You’venevermet,right?”“That’sright.Sheranaway

the day before I got to DesMoines.”“Has she ever seen a

pictureofyou?”“I don’t think so. And if

she has, it’s an old one. Ididn’tlikemyschoolpicturesthisyear,andtheywereevenworse last year. When I gotthem, I tore them up anddidn’t give them out to

anybody,notevenDad.”“Perfect.” Hannah turned

to Larry. Can you stay overuntilSaturdaymorning?”“Of course we can. We’ll

stay as long as it takes toconvinceCandytocomebacktoDesMoineswithus.”“I want to see my

daughter,” Deana said, andHannahcouldtellshewasonthevergeoftears.“Iknowyoudo,butit’snot

going to work if you just

walk in on her. She mightbolt and then none of uswould ever find her again.I’ve got a plan, but you’llhave to be a little patientwhileIarrangesomethings.”“HowlongdoIhavetobe

patient?”“Twenty-four hours.

TomorrownightisSally’sbigChristmasparty.Shehasoneeveryyear.Everybodywho’sstaying at the inn is invited,andsoarealotoflocalsfrom

Lake Eden. I’m bringingCandy.” Hannah leanedforward and lowered hervoice. “Now here’s what Ithinkweshoulddo...”Candy loved to shop and

she couldn’t seem to stopsmiling.They’dgoneout thefrontdoorofTheCookie Jarand into the next buildingover. There were partydressesonthemannequinsin

thewindow,andHannahhadsaid they were going to buysomething for her towear tothepartytomorrownight.Mom would love this

place! Candy thought,looking around at the thickcarpet, the soft lighting, andthe closets filled withclothing.Therewerenorackscrowded together and stuffedwithclothesthatwerehalfofftheirhangers.Everythingwasin its own closet, and each

closet was marked with alittle gold number that toldyou the size. And instead ofjustgoingthroughtheclosetsby yourself, you told theowner what you needed andaskedher tohelpyouchooseit.There were chairs in a

conversational grouping inthe center of the room, andCandy supposed they werefor husbands or friends whowanted to wait while you

tried on something and thenwalked out to model it.Candy was sitting in a pinksatin chair while Hannah satacross from her in a palegreen chair. The owner wasstandingatoneoftheclosets,making a selection, and asCandy watched, she chose adress and carried it over tothem.“This should be nice on

you,Candy.”Theownerwasholding the most beautiful

dressCandyhadeverseen.“Ithinkwineisyourcolor.Youneed a deep, rich color withyourskinandhair,don’tyouthink?”“Oh,yes,”Candybreathed.

One glance at the dress andshe was in love. She wouldhave agreed that the worldwasflataslongasshegotthechancetotryiton.“Do you need any help?”

Hannahaskedher.“No, thanks. I can

manage.”Candyheldoutherarmsforthedressandtriedtokeep from skipping as shewalked back to the fittingrooms. It was as light as afeather and it shimmered inherhands.It took only a second to

peel off her jeans andsweater. And then carefully,oh, so carefully, Candyunzipped the dress andlowered it over her head.Asit settled into place, she

thoughtshecouldhearstrainsof beautiful music. Shezipped it up, twirled aroundon the balls of her feet, andgave a delighted little laughas she saw her reflection inthe mirror. She lookedgorgeous, not like herself atall. And she looked older, atleast seventeen, and maybeeven the twenty she’d toldHannahandNormanshewas.She was Cinderella, and shewasgoingtotheball!

“Let’s see, Candy,”Hannahcalledout,andCandyhurried out of the dressingroomtoshowher.“It’s lovely on you,” the

owner of the shop said, butCandy was concerned aboutHannah.Her new friendwasbuying her this dress andthere wasn’t any price tag.Candy had heard of stickershock when people saw theprices of new cars.Was thisdress so expensive that they

hadtohidethecost?“You’ve got a great eye,

Claire,” Hannahcomplimented the owner.And then she turned toCandy. “It looks absolutelywonderful, and I think weshould get it for the partytomorrow. What do youthink?”“It’s beautiful,” Candy

said,sighingdeeply.“But...isittooexpensive?”“No.”

Both the owner andHannah spoke at once, andthen they burst out laughing.EvenCandyhadtosmile.“Clairegivesmeadiscount

because I’m her next-doorneighbor,”Hannahexplained.“It’s only fair,” the owner

said.“Hannahbringsmefreecookies whenever she bakesmyfavorites.”Candy gave a delighted

laugh,shewassohappy.Shewas getting the dress of her

dreams and itmade her looklike a princess. The onlything that could make thismomentevenmorewonderfulwould be if Mom could seehernow.

ChapterTen

Candy had just refilled thecarafe and was preparing tomaketheroundsofthetableswhen a pretty, very pregnantlady came in. “May I helpyou?”Candyasked,preciselythewayLisaandHannahhadcoachedher.“Don’t I wish! I need to

see Hannah. Is she in the

kitchen?”“Yes,sheis.But...”“Hi, Sally,” Lisa came up

and took the carafe out ofCandy’s hand. “I’ll do thecoffee.Yougoseeifyoucanround up any more CherryWinks. We’re running out.And take Sally back to thekitchen with you so she cantalktoHannah.”“I’m Sally, and I run the

LakeEdenInn,”SallysaidasCandy led her toward the

kitchen.“And I’m Candy. I’m

helpingHannah andLisa outover the holidays. Are youthe one giving the big partytonight?”“That’s me. Or maybe I

should say, ‘Thatwasme.’ ”Sally gave a little sigh asCandy pushed through thekitchen door and held it forher.Hannahlookedupfromthe

trayofLovelyLemonCookie

Bars she was cutting andnodded to Sally. “What areyou doing here? I thoughtyou’d be decorating for theparty.”“Iwould be if I had some

help.ButIdon’t.”“I don’t understand. You

said you were going to hirethreehighschoolgirls.”“Idid,andallthreeofthem

calledtocancelthismorning.One’s sick, one’s groundedbecause she got home late

from her date, and the thirdone slipped on the ice andbroke her thumb. I managedto find one girl who saidshe’d help out, but she can’tdoitalone.”Hannah glanced at Candy.

“Do you want to help Mrs.Laughlin and this other girldecoratefortheparty?”“Sure,ifyoucanspareme.

ButIdon’tknowifI’dbeanygoodatdecorating.”“Ifyoucan throw tinsel at

a tree and make it stick,you’regoodenough forme,”Sallytoldher.“Okay, then.” Hannah

grabbed Candy’s parka andtosseditather.“I’llpickyouup in the lobby at five-thirtyso we can drive back to thecondoandgetdressed.Soundgood?”Candy nodded. “Fine with

me.”“Thanks, Hannah,” Sally

said, and then she turned to

Candy. “And thank you,Candy. My car’s parked infront and the clock’s ticking.Let’sgodoit.”“Candy? Meet Sonny.”

Sally turned to the girl whowas waiting in the lobby forthemwhentheyarrivedattheinn.“Sonny?MeetCandy.”“Hi, Sonny,” Candy said,

giving the other girl atentative smile. She was a

little overweight and shewore a knit slacks-and-sweater outfit thatwasmuchtoo good for putting updecorations, but she lookedfriendlyenough.“Gladtomeetyou,”Sonny

said,returningthesmile.“Sonny has the pictures,”

Sally told her. “My husbandhired a photographer to takephotosofthedecorationslastyear. We want it just thesame, except we decided to

usemulticoloredlightsonthetrees instead of white. Andwewantgoldballsinsteadofsilver.”“Got it,” Sonny said, and

Candy was glad. Since shehadn’t seen the pictures, shedidn’treallyknowwhatSallywastalkingabout.“ComewithmeandI’llget

you started,” Sally said, andthe two girls followed her tothe dining room. She flickedon the lights and gestured

toward the boxes that werestackedagainstthebackwall.“Everything you need shouldbe in those boxes. Thebusboyssetupthetables thismorning, andall youhave todo is put on the tableclothsandthecenterpieces.Andthatreminds me . . . on thecenterpieces, take off thesilverbowsandreplace themwithgold.”“Where will you be if we

have a question?” Sonny

asked.“Inthekitchen.Justgoout

thedoorwecameinandturnright. It’s at the end of thehallway behind the swingingdoors.”“Thanks, Mrs. Laughlin,”

Candy said, hoping that shewouldbeuptothejob.“It’sSally.There’sacooler

of soft drinks in the cornerand I’ll haveoneofmy staffbring out a snack in an houror so to keep up your

energy.”OnceSallyhadleft,Candy

gazed around at the baretables that dotted the spaceand the dozen six-footChristmas trees that sat intheir stands, waiting forornamentation. “It’s a hugejob,”shesaidwithagroan.“Relax. It won’t be that

bad,”Sonnytoldher.“We’vegotfivehours.”“And we’re going to need

every second of it. Do you

have those pictures so weknow what it’s supposed tolook like when we’rethrough?”“Right here,” Sonny

plunkedafolderonthetable.Then she sat down in one ofthe chairs and motioned forCandy to take the other.“Let’sspreadoutthepicturesand leave themrighthere forreference.Thatwaywewon’tmakeanymistakes.”“Good idea.” Candy was

impressed.“Thank you. I’m not just

anotherprettyface.”Candy burst out laughing

and then she wished shehadn’t. What if she’d hurtSonny’s feelings? But shehadn’t because Sonny waslaughing, too. “Do you thinkweshouldwork together?Orstart in opposite corners andmeetinthemiddle?”“Weshouldworktogether.

That way all the decorations

will look the same. Besides,it’ll be more fun. Whatshouldwedofirst?Thetablesorthetrees?”Candy thought about that

foramoment.“Weshoulddothe trees. That way we canuse the tables to hold theboxes with the balls and thelights. They’re probablydusty,especially if theywereinstorageallyear.”“Good idea! You’re not

just another pretty face,

either.Exceptyouare.”“Arewhat?”“Pretty.I’dkillforhairlike

yours. Mine’s straight as aboard.”“And I’d kill for eyes like

yours. Your lashes are solong.” Candy stopped andgavealittlelaugh.“Isthisthegrass is greener on the othersideofthefence?”Sonnystoodupwithagrin.

“I thinkso. It’seither thatorsomething about walking a

mile in somebody else’sshoes.Let’sgotakealookatthoseboxesandseeifwecanfindthelights.”“So how are they getting

along?” Hannah asked,stretchingout thephonecordsoshecouldtakeanothertrayof Oatmeal Raisin Crispsfromtheoven.“Like two peas in a pod.

EverytimeIstickmyheadin,

they’re laughing aboutsomethingorother.”“That’sgreat.Butare they

gettinganyworkdone?”“Tons of it. They’ve only

got one tree left to go andthen they’regoing tostartonthetables.Iftheyfinishearly,that’ll give them even moretimetotalk.”

“You’regettingyouroutfit

all dirty,” Candy said,noticing the smudges onSonny’s slacks when sheplaced another box on thetable.“Youshouldhavewornjeans.”“I’mnotallowed.”“What?”“Well I guess I am now,

butIdon’thaveany.Iwasn’tallowed to wear them atboardingschool.”“What did you wear?”

Candy asked, thoroughly

shocked.Shesuspectedshe’ddieifshecouldn’twearjeans.“Weworeuniformsduring

schoolhours,anddressslacksor skirts after school and onthe weekends. And pajamastobed,ofcourse.”Candyjustshookherhead.

“Did they think jeans wouldcorruptyou?”“Maybe. We were

supposedtoactlikeladiesallthe time. It was one of therules.Therewereanawfullot

ofrules.”Candy just shookherhead

assheclimbedtheladderandplacedthelastangelontopofthelasttree.“I’mgladIneverwenttoboardingschool,”shesaid, once she was back onthe floor again. “I think itwouldhavekilledme.”“When I first got there I

thought it was going to killme, too. But it didn’t and Ilearnedalot.”“Likewhat?”

“Like you really ought tocarry that box of ornamentsright side up, because Ialreadyopenedit.”

ChapterEleven

The party was on, and theirdecorations looked great.Candy stood at the desserttable, feelingbeautiful in hernew dress, and watching herThree-Way Fudge disappear.Sally had put it on a roundsilver platterwith a pedestal,and it looked every bit asgoodasit tasted.Thebottom

layerwasdarkchocolate, themiddle layer was whitechocolate mixed withchopped nuts, and the toplayer was milk chocolate.When Norman had seen it,he’d taken a picture andpromised to give her a print.And when she’d told Sonnyabout it, right after they’dfinished decorating, Sonnyhad asked her to save her apiece.There was a tap on her

shoulder, and Candy whirledaroundtoseeSonnystandingthere. She was wearing apowder blue sweater andskirt, and she was smiling.“Didyousavemesome?’sheasked.“I never break a promise.”

Candy patted the little goldpurse she was carrying. “Igrabbed two pieces beforethey carried it out, and I puttheminhere.”“I don’t think two pieces

will do it. It’s not a propertaste test. I should probablyhaveonerightnow,justtobefairofcourse.Fantasticdress,by the way. You look like aprincess.”“Thanks. You look great,

too,” Candy said and shemeant it. Light blue was agoodcolorforSonny,andherhair looked nice with a littlecurlatthetips.“Okay.Herewego.”Candy watched as Sonny

took a piece of fudge andtasted it. If theexpressiononher face was any indication,shelikeditalot.“Soitpassesthetastetest?”sheasked.“What taste test? I’m in

love.” Sonny reached foranother piece. “I’ve nevertasted fudge this goodbefore.”“It’sreallyeasytomake.I

couldteachyouhowtodoit.”“Notme.I’mterribleinthe

kitchen. The one time I tried

to make dinner for my dad,the neighbors called the firedepartment.”“I didn’t even know Lake

Edenhadafiredepartment!”“Oh, itwasn’there.We’re

justvisitingLakeEden.Howabout you? Do you livehere?”“I’m the same as you, just

visiting.” Candy rememberedthe cover story that Andreahad made up for her. “Myboyfrienddumpedmeformy

best friend, and I needed achangeofscene.”“You also need a new

boyfriend!”“You’re right about that,”

Candy said with a giggle.Thispartywasalotmorefunnow that Sonny had gottenhere. “Let’sgrab aCokeandgositatthetableoverbythelast Christmas tree wedecorated.”“Sounds good. I’ll get the

drinks. You stake out the

table.”Candy made a beeline for

thetableandnabbeditbeforeanyone else could claim it.WhenSonnyarrivedwithtwoCokes and they’d poppedthem open, she asked, “Howabout you? Do you have aboyfriend?”“Not yet, but I believe in

miracles.”Candy laughed so hard,

tears came to her eyes. “Toobadwe don’t go to the same

school. There’s a guy in myscience class who’d beperfectforyou.”“That won’t do me much

good unless he goes toHamiltoninDesMoines.”“That’smyschool!”Candy

gasped, forgetting all abouther cover story. “But I’veneverseenyouthere.”“That’s because I’m not

there yet. I don’t start untilJanuary.”“Your folks just moved to

DesMoines?”“Not exactly. My dad’s

beenthereallalong,butafterMomdied,heputme in thatboarding school I told youabout. He just didn’t knowhow to take care ofme, youknow? I mean . . . I waspretty little when ithappened.”“That’s awful! But now

thatyou’reolderandyoucantake care of yourself, you’recoming back to live with

him?”“Sortof.”Candyleanedforward.She

knew there was more to thestory than that. “What doessortofmean?”“Dad gotmarried again so

hesentforme.”Candy felt a lump form in

her throat.Sonny’sstorywaseerily close to hers. They’dbothfacedthelossofaparentand their remaining parenthadremarried.

“What’s the matter? Youlookalittlestrange.”“It’s just that we’ve got

almost the same situation,exceptit’sreversed.Mydad’sthe one who died and mymom just got remarried. Mysituation’s a little different,though, because my mommarried a man with adaughter.”“Sosuddenlyyou’vegota

stepsister?”“Right.”

“So what do you think ofher?Issheawful?”Candy swallowed hard

again. She really wantedsomeone to confide in andSonny was awfully nice.“Larry,he’smystepdad,saysshe’sperfect.She’sbeautiful,and she sings like aprofessional,andshe’sonthehonorrolls,and...”“Butwhatdoyou thinkof

her?”Sonnyinterrupted.“I . . .” Candy stopped

speaking and blinked awaytears. “I don’t know. I ranaway the day before shecame.”“Without even meeting

her?”Candy had the urge to

break down and sob, but shestared at the angel on top ofthe tree instead. “Yes.We’retoodifferent.Shewouldhavehatedme.”“Areyousure?”“I’m sure. She’s not like

youandme.”Sonnyleanedforward.“IfI

couldwaveamagicwandandturn intoyournewstepsister,wouldthatbeokay?”“That would be great. But

youdon’thaveamagicwandandthisisn’tafairytale.”“Iknow that,but I’myour

newstepsisteranyway.”Candy’s mouth dropped

open.“Butyoucan’tbe!HernameisAllison!”“That’s right. And

Allison’s nickname isSonny.”For amoment,Candywas

too shocked to do anythingbutsittherelikeastone.Andthenshedroppedherhead inherhandsandcried.“Ireallygoofed,didn’tI?”“You could say that. I

wouldn’tsaythatbecauseI’ma very nice person, but youcould.”Candy’s tears turned to

laughter and she wiped her

facewith a napkin. “IsMomhere? I’ve missed her somuch!”“She’s here, and so is my

dad. They’re waiting in thelobby. Do you want to seethemnow?”Candy nodded. “You’re

coming,aren’tyou?”“Sure,ifyouwantmeto.”“I want you to.” Candy

took a deep breath andregained some of herequilibrium. And then she

said, “We might as wellpresent a united front rightaway.Thatwayit’llbeeasierfor us to get away withmurder.”“Looks like everything

turnedoutall right,”Normansaid, watching Allison andCandy link arms and walkacrosstheroom.“Sure did,” Hannah said,

givingabigsighofrelief.

“Wherearetheygoing?”“To the lobby where

Candy’smotherandAllison’sfatherarewaitingforthem.”Norman reached out to

take her hand. “It’s a goodthingyoutookherunderyourwing,Hannah.”“Itwasmypleasure.She’s

asweetgirl,andhercandyisincredible.Didyou taste thatfudge?”Norman nodded. “It gives

new meaning to the word

rich.Ihavethefeelingyou’regoingtomissheralot.”“I am, but not asmuch as

Moishe. He’s been sleepingin the guest room with her,and the comforter in there isdown-filled silk. Now he’sgoing to have to move backin with me and sleep on hislumpyfoampillowagain.”

THREE-WAYFUDGE

Hannah’s1stNote:Youdon’t need acandythermometerto make thisfudge. If

you’ve got amicrowave,you don’teven need astove to makethisfudge.

1 cup (6-ouncepkg.)semisweetchocolate

chips(IusedGhirardelli’s.)

1 cup (6-ouncepkg.)whitechocolatechips(IusedGhirardelli’s.)

1 cup (6-ouncepkg.)

milkchocolatechips(IusedGhirardelli’s.)

14-ouncecan ofsweetenedcondensedmilk

6Tablespoonsbutter

Line an 8-inch squarepan withwaxed paper,ORlineitwithfoil and spraythe foil with anonstickcookingspray.

You can

make thisfudge on the

stovetop or inthemicrowave.Either waywill work justfine.

If you

choose thestovetopmethod, use aheavysaucepan andstir constantly

while you’remelting thechocolate andotheringredients.

For themicrowave, Icombined my

ingredients ina 2-cup Pyrexmeasuring cupand processedthem for 70seconds onHIGH.Rememberthat chocolatechips maintaintheir shapeeven afterthey’re meltedsodon’tgoby

appearance.You’ll have tostir them tobesure.

Hannah’s

2nd Note: A14-ounce canof sweetenedcondensedmilk containsapproximatelyone and athird cups.

You’re goingtobedividingthe can inthirds, somake eachthirdabitlessthan a half-cup andyou’ll comeoutallright.

Melt

thefollowingtogether:1cupsemisweetchocolatechipsscanthalf-cupsweetenedcondensedmilk

2Tablespoonsbutter

Stir tomakesureeverything’smelted andthen spread itout in thebottom of the8-inch square

pan you’veprepared. Letit sit on thecounter untilit’s cool andslightlyhardtothe touch andthen...

Meltthefollowing

together:1cupwhitechocolatechipsscanthalf-cupsweetenedcondensedmilk2Tablespoons

butter

Stir tomakesureeverything’smelted andthenspreadthe

second layeron top of thefirst. Let it siton the counteruntil it’s coolto the touchand slightlyhardened andthen...

Meltthe

followingtogether:1cupmilkchocolatechipstheremainderofthesweetenedcondensedmilk

2Tablespoonsbutter

Spread thisthird layer ontop of theother two,smooth it outwith a rubberspatula,andletithardeninthe

refrigerator forat least twohours.(Overnight iseven better.)Then turn itout on acutting boardand cut it intobite sizesquares.

Hannah’s

3rd Note:

Mike reallylikes thisfudge when Iadd choppedmacadamianuts to themiddle layer.Normanthinks it’sbest withchoppedpecans in thebottom layer.Isupposethat

shouldtellmesomethingabout theirpersonalities,but I have noidea what itis!

IndexofRecipes

BrownSugarDrops 318–320

MerryBerryCookies 338–339

Ibby’sMetaphysicalEnglishToffee

347–349

Butter-Scotchies 357–358

CandyCaneCookies 367–371

ChocolatePecanRoll 372–374

ChocolateMintSofties 380–384

Fudge-Aroons 391–394

Three-WayFudge 413–415

Summertime has finallyarrived in Lake Eden,Minnesota, and HannahSwensen, owner of TheCookieJarbakery,islookingforward to warm, lazy days,eatingicecream,andsharingpicnicswithfriends.Butwhena family reunion takes adeadly turn, it’s up toHannahtofindakiller...Betweenbakingupastorm

for The Cookie Jar and

unravelingthemysteryofhercat Moishe’s recent strangebehavior, Hannah Swensenhas a lot on her plate. Butshe’ll always make time forher business partner, Lisa,who’s in the midst ofpreparing for a big familyreunion. Everyone isdelighted when Lisa’s long-lost uncle makes a surpriseappearance.NoonehasheardfromGusintwenty-fiveyears—and his arrival has

everyone buzzing withexcitement.Uncle Gus is immediately

the hit of the reunion, tellingtalesofhisgreat successandflashingmoneyforalltosee.He’s almost as popular asHannah’s scrumptious carrotcake, which is also Gus’sfavorite dessert.But the nextmorning,asthewholefamilygathers for the group photo,one person is missing.

Hannah offers to track downUncle Gus, but her searchleadstoashockingfind.Overbythebaratthepavilion,shespots two slices of herinfamous carrot cake,frosting-side down on thefloor—andGus’scorpsewithan ice pick jutting out of hischest!A little snooping reveals

that not everyone wascelebratingGus’sreturn.And

when Hannah unearths moresecrets from Gus’s past, shediscovers even more peoplewith an axe to grind. NowHannah’sgottosiftthroughalong listofsuspects to findakiller—even if it couldmeanarecipeforherowndemise...PleaseturnthepageforanexcitingsneakpeekatCARROTCAKE

MURDERnowavailable!

Hannah lowered the driver’swindowofhercookietrucktoenjoy the gentle breezewafting off the far shore ofEdenLake.Even thought thegravel road around the lakewas showing wear from thetourists who’d towed heavyboattrailersandcampers,shetook the ruts at a fast clip to

outrun themosquitoes.She’dbeen through enoughMinnesota summers to knowthat if sheslowed toacrawl,they would descend on herarm in hungry hordes togorge on a luncheon of ANegative with an Anti-BAntibody.It was a perfectly lovely

day.Theairwasscentedwitha wisp of smoke from afisherman’sshorelunchandadampness that reminded her

ofwetswimmingsuitstossedover a porch rail to dry. Thesun was almost straightoverhead.Whenitreacheditsapex, the shadows of the tallpines that lined the lakeshorewould be at their smallest:merely adarker circleon thegroundaround the tree truck,no larger than the branchesthat served as its pattern. Itwas the final Monday inAugust, and Hannah wasplaying hooky with her

mother’s blessing, anoccurrence that had neverhappened during her schooldays at Jordan High. Buttoday Delores and Carriewere also playing hooky.They’d closed their antiqueshoptoattendtheBeeseman-HermanFamilyReunion,andsent their assistant, LuanneHanks,nextdoortoHannah’scookie-and-coffee shop.She’d arrived to take chargejust as Hannah was about to

turntheCLOSEDsignonthefrontdoortoOPEN,andnowHannahwasfreetoenjoythislazy,end-of-summerday.Sinceshewas innohurry,

Hannah took the long wayaround the lake. AttendingLisa and Herb’s familyreunionwouldbefunaslongas she didn’t get buttonholedby Uncle Gus again. She’dspentquiteenough timewithhim at the dance last night,wedged intoa roundwooden

booth at the Lake PavilionwithMargeBeesemanononeside and Uncle Gus on theother. Hannah had seriouslybeen considering slidingunder the table and crawlingout when they weren’tlooking; but finally Gus hadasked Marge to dance, andshe was free to make herescape.Gus Kaun, Marge’s

brother, was back in townafter a twenty-five-year

absence. To hear him tellabout it, he’d gone off tomake his fortune and wasnow a rich, successfulbusinessman. Perhapseverything he’d told Hannahand Marge last night wastrue, but Hannah didn’t likethe way he bragged abouteverything he’d done andbelittled everyone who’dstayed behind in Lake Eden.Sheespeciallydidn’t like theway he behaved toward Jack

Herman, Lisa’s father. Thereappeared to be bad bloodbetween them, but neithermanwould talk about it, andnooneknewwhathadcausedthe rift between the friendswho had been inseparable inhighschool.Hannah let out a groan as

shecamearoundacurveandsaw that the public parkinglotwasfull.Inadditiontotherelativeswhowerestayingatnearby lake cottages, it

appeared that everyone intown had driven out for theday’s festivities. It wasn’tsurprising, considering thesize of both families. Lisawas theyoungestdaughter inthe large Herman family.Most of the children hadstayedintheareaandmarriedinto other big families. Thesame was true for theBeesemans. At last count,overonehundredpeoplehadresponded to the reunion

invitation.Since there weren’t any

vacantparkingspots,Hannahcreatedoneofherown.Thatwas the beauty of owning afour-wheel-drive cookietruck. When the proper gearwas engaged, her Suburbanclimbed up the three-footberm of dirt surrounding theparking lot and found asemilevelspotontop.Hannah took the time to

sprayonmosquitorepellent,a

precautionshe’dlearnedearlyinlife.Thensheretrievedthelarge box of cookies she’dpacked to add to the lunchtable.Kidslovedcookies,andthere were plenty of kids atthe family reunion. She heldtheboxwithbothhands,duginherheelstowalkdowntheberm, and then hurriedtoward the picnic tables,whereacrowdwasgatheringbytheshore.Loud,merryvoicesfloated

up to greet her, and HannahspiedLisastandingon topofa picnic table, holding acheerleading megaphone toher lips. She was wearing ared T-shirt with the legendFAMILYISEVERYTHING.“It’s time for the family

portrait,” Lisa called out.“We’regoingtohavethelakeinthebackground,solineupat the edge of the waterbehindthetwochairsforyourhost and hostess. That’s my

dad, Jack Herman, andHerb’s mom, MargeBeeseman.NormanandHerbwilltellyouwhatrowyou’reinifyoucan’tfigureitoutforyourself.Wewant the tallestinthebackandtheshortestinthefront.”Hannah set the cookies

down on the food table andheadedfortheshoretowatch.She knew that Norman hadoffered to take the grouppictures, and perhaps she

couldhelp.“Hannah!”Hannah knew that voice

and thankfully it wasn’tUncleGus.“Hi,Mother,”shesaid, turning to greet thefashionable, dark-hairedwomanwhowoulddieratherthan exceed the petite dresssize she’d worn in highschool.“Hello, dear.” Delores

steadied herself against hereldest daughter’s arm and

shook the sand from onewhite high-heeled sandal. “Iwish I hadn’t worn thesetoday, but I didn’t think thebeach would be quite thissandy.”Hannah laughed. “It’s a

beach,Mother. By definitionit’ssandy.”“You’re right, of course.

ButIdidn’tthinkitwouldbethis sandy.” Delores pausedfor a moment and then shegave Hannah a smile. “Did

you like the surprisewe sentyouthismorning?”For a brief moment

Hannahwaspuzzled,butthenshe got it. “You meanLuanne. That was reallythoughtful of you, Mother. Ididn’t think I’d be able todrive out here until weclosed.”“Anything for my dearest

daughter.”Uh-oh! Warning bells

sounded in Hannah’s head.

Her mother wantedsomething...butwhat?“I hope you can relax and

haveagood time today.Youdeserve a little break,Hannah.”The warning bells turned

into klaxons, and yellowcautionlightsbehindtoblinkon and off. “Thanks,Mother,” Hannah responded.And then, just because shecouldn’t resist, she asked,“Whatdoyouwant?”

Hermother reared back insurprise thatcouldhavebeenreal or not, Hannah couldn’ttell.“Want?Whatmakesyouthink I want anything? Justbecause I called you mydearest daughter and I saidyou deserved to relax andhave a good time doesn’tmeanIwantanything.”“I’m sorry,” Hannah said,

backpedaling as fast as shecould. “I thought there wassomething youwantedme to

doforyou.”“Well . . . now that you

mentionit . . .”Deloresgavean elaborate shrug. “Youcould find Marge’s brotherfor me. No one’s seen himsince the dance last night.When he didn’t show up forthe family picture, they sentmetofindhim.Butmyshoes...”Sheglanceddownatthestylish sandals. “They’re justnot suitable for trying tolocate someone. You know

what I mean, don’t you,dear?”Caught likea rat ina trap,

likeaflyonastickyspiralofflypaper, like a deer in theheadlights, like a mothflutteringhelplessagainst...“Hannah?”Delores interrupted her

mental chain of similes andHannah focused on the hereandnow.Deloreshadwantedsomethingandnowsheknewwhatitwas.“Okay,Mother,”

she said, bowing to theinevitable.“I’llgofindUncleGusforyou.”Nothing was ever easy.

Hannah gazed around thesmall lake cabin. The onlyliving creature inside was asmallgreenfrogwhohoppeddeterminedly toward thekitchen alcove.UnlessUncleGus had met a witch who’dturned him into the Frog

Prince, he wasn’t here. Andsince his Jaguar was stillparked in the driveway, he’dgonesomewhereonfoot.Butwhere? Eden Lake was farfrom being the largest bodyofwater inMinnesota, but itwouldstill takeseveralhourstowalk around the perimetersearchingforhim.The froggavea croakand

Hannah watched as hehoppeduponthecounterandinto the sink.Thatwaswhen

shenoticedthattherewerenodirty breakfast dishes. Aquickpeek in therefrigeratortold her way. The onlycontents were a bottle ofvodka and two cans of beer.If Uncle Gus had wantedsomething other than aboilermaker for breakfast,he’dprobablywalkedovertothe Eden Lake store to buyfood.Hannah ran a little in the

sink for the frog and headed

acrosstheroadtothestore.Ithad been one of her favoriteplaces as a child. The old-fashioned bell on the doortinkledas shepushed itopenand stepped in. Some thingsnever changed; and Hannahfound that comforting. Theinterior of the store stillsmelled the way it alwayshad,acuriousmixtureofringbologna, dill pickles in alarge jar on the counter, andbananas that had gotten too

ripe for anything exceptbananabread.“Hello, Hannah.” Ava

Schultz came out from theback, pushing aside thecurtain that concealed herliving quarters from hercustomers’ view. She hadbeen only a year or twobehind Delores at JordanHigh,andthatmeantAvahadpassed middle age and wasfast approaching whatadvertiserscalled“thegolden

years.”Asmallwomanproneto quick movements andrapid speech, she remindedHannah of a small brownwren,flittingfromonepartofthe store to another andseldom lighting in one placeforlong.Avahadfashionablycut, perfectly coifed darkbrownhairwithoutatouchofgray.Deloresandher friendswere certain that she wore awig since Bertie Straub, theowner of the Cut ’n’ Curl,

insisted that Ava had nevercome in, not even once, tohave her hair cut, styled, orcolored.“Hi,Ava.”Hannahwalked

over to themain attraction, ashiny metal case filled withevery available Popsicleflavor.“AnythingnewsinceIgrewup?”Avagavealittlelaughand

joined her at the case. “Seethe three boxes in themiddle?” she asked, pointing

to them. “Those areRainbows, Scribblers, andGreatWhite.”“Neverheardofthem.”“Of course not.We didn’t

have them when you were achild. All we carried thenwere the double pops invarietyofflavors.”“Rhubarb,” Hannah said

with a grin. “That was myfavorite.”Ava’s mouth dropped

open. “They never made

rhubarb!” she exclaimed.“You’re pulling my leg,Hannah.”“You’re right. I should

have known I couldn’t putone over on WinnetkaCounty’s leading Popsicleauthority.”“Ido like to keep upwith

it,” Ava admitted. “The kidsenjoy hearing about the newproducts and they’ve got somany.” She pointed toanother box. “Look at those

Lifesaver Super Pops. Fromthe bottom up, they’repineapple, orange, cherry,andraspberry.Andoverhereare the Incredible Hulks.They’re part of theFirecracker Super Heroesseries. The Hulk isstrawberry-kiwi, grape, andgreen apple. They’ve evengotBigFoot.”AvareactedtoHannah’s raised eyebrowsand explained, “It’s cherryand cotton candy swirled

together and shaped like afootwithagumball.Getit?”Hannahnodded.“BigFoot.

Cute. Popsicles have comealong way since 1905 whenFrank Epperson left hislemonadeandstirstickoutonthe porch and it froze solidovernight.”“You remembered!” Ava

gave her the same smile ateacher might bestow on afavoritestudent.“Of course I did.”Hannah

smiledback.Avahadtoldherthe story enough times. Butshe wasn’t here to discussPopsicles history. She had tofind out if Ava had seenUncle Gus. “Did Gus Kauncome in this morning?” sheasked.“They’re liningup forthe family-reunion pictureand they sent me to findhim.”“I haven’t seen him since

he walked back here lastnight after the dance. And

before you can ask, it’s notwhat you think. He justwanted me to open up thestore so he could get somemilk to go with that carrotcakeyougavehim.”Hannah nodded, even

though she hadn’t beenthinking what Ava thoughtshe’dbeen thinking. “Soyouopenedthestoreforhim?”“Of course I did. A

customer’s a customer, evenafter midnight. He bought

eggsandbaconforbreakfast,too.Thenwehadadrinkandwaited for the cars to clearoutoftheparkinglot.Hesaidhe hid your cake behind thebarandhewasgoingbacktoeat it as soon as no one elsewas around. I think that wassohewouldn’thavetoshare.We went to school together,youknow.Guswasneveranygood at sharing, not even inkindergarten.”Hannah thought about that

for a moment. One the onehand, she was pleased thatGus liked her Special CarrotCake somuch that he hadn’twantedtogiveanyaway.Onthe other hand, she’d bakedhim a half-dozen pieces, oneofwhichhecouldhavegiventoAva.“Anyway,” Ava went on,

“the last time I saw Gus, hewas heading back to thepavilion with his sack ofgroceries. He was supposed

to come back to pay me forthem this morning, but henevershowed.”Ominous music began to

play in the recesses ofHannah’s mind. It soundedlike a cross between Bach’s“ToccattaandFugue”andthesoundtrack of a bad horrormovie, but she didn’t havetime to thinkabout thatnow.“What timewas itwhenGusleftherelastnight?”“A little after one-thirty. I

got ready for bed, that takesabout ten minutes, and Ilooked at the clock before Iturnedoff the lights. Itwasaquartertotwo.”Hannahreachedreflexively

forherstenopad,thekindsheused for murder cases, butshe quickly thought better ofit. This was nothing morethan a missing person,someone who hadn’t shownup for the family-reunionpicture.UncleGushadn’tleft

forgood,forhiscarwasstillhere;buthecouldhavefounda warmer, more hospitableplace to sleep than the singlebunk in his unheated lakecabin.Therehadbeenatleastfive dozen women at thedancelastnight.Oneofthemmighthavethoughtamiddle-agedbraggart likeUncleGuswas irresistible. He couldhavewaiteduntilnoonewasaround and walked to hercabin bearing gifts of carrot

cake and breakfast. Perhapshe’d decided to skip thegroup photo and was sittingat her kitchen table rightnow, eating bacon and eggswith her carrot cake fordessert.... . . or not, Hannah

muttered under her breath,and then she turned to Ava.“I’dbetter get going.They’llbe ready to take that photosoon.”“I hope you find Gus. If

you do, will you do me afavor?”“What?” Hannah asked,

knowing better than topromiseblindly.“Right after they snap that

picture, grab Gus by the earand march him back here topayhisbill.YoucantellhimI said that groceries don’tgrowontrees.”Therewasonlyonelogical

place to look, and Hannahheaded straight for it. TheLake Pavilion was clearlydeserted. The sandy parkinglot was empty of cars andcontained only a crumpledcigarette pack, the remnantsofwhathadoncebeenablue-and-white bandanna, and aneatly clipped coupon for atwo-fer dinner at Perkins’PancakeHouse.As she approached the

entrance to the white

clapboard structure, Hannahfelt an odd prickling at theback of her neck. She’dexperienced that sensationbefore and it had precededsomething unpleasant,something bad, somethinglikediscoveringadeadbody.She told herself that UncleGus was fine and she’d findnothing but the debris of aparty inside, but her feetdragged a bit as sheapproached the front

entrance.Lastnight thepavilionhad

looked majestic, a gleamingwhite edifice in themoonlight, its open shuttersspilling out warm yellowlight into the humid blanketof summer darkness. Musichadsetupjoyfulvibrationsinthewalls, thewoodenchairs,theoldchromebarstools,andthe revelers themselves,causing laughter and loudvoices to peal out in a

cacophonyof raucousgaiety.Today it was . . . Hannahpaused, both in mind andstep, attempting to think oftheword.Sad.Thewordwassad. The white paint waspeeling, the shutters werewarped from exposure to theelements, and there was agaggle of brown beer bottlesleaningupagainstthefrontofthe building. The party wasover. Everyone had left. Allthat remained was the

abandoned pavilion with itscurlingshardsofpaint.Hannah tried the front

door,butitwaslockedjustasshe’d thought it would be.She knocked, calling out forUncleGus, but therewas noanswer. A nonlocal personmight have gone back to askAva how to get the key, butHannah had been born andraised in Lake Eden and sheknew all about the LakePavilion.Inatownwherethe

lover’s lane was regularlypatrolled, and theparking lotattherearofJordanHighwaspeppered with arc lights, theLake Pavilion was the solehaven for teenage couplesseekingprivacy.The loose shutter was at

the back of the pavilion, thethirdfromthecorner.Hannahfound theproper one, tuggedon thepadlock that hadbeenrigged to open, and removedit. Gaining access to the

pavilionwaseverybitaseasyas her date for the high-school prom had told her itwould be. She hadn’tbelievedhimat thetime,andshewouldn’thavegoneouttothe pavilionwith him in anycase—especially since sheknew that her father hadbribed him with the promiseofasummerjobifhe’dinviteHannahtobehisdatefor thedance.Hannah lifted the shutter

andpropped it openwith thestick thatwasattached to theside of the window frame.The opening was at waistheight,andsheswungherlegup and over the sill. Amoment later she was sittingon the sill with both legshanging down inside thebuilding, preparing to pushoff with her hands and jumpdown.She landed hard, which

wasn’t surprising. She’d

never been the athletic type.Since the shutter was at theback of the pavilion, notvisiblefromtheroad,sheleftitopenforillumination.All was quiet within. The

interior had an air ofabandonment, and the onlysignoflifeHannahheardwasthe buzzing of several fliesthat had been trapped inside.Asachildshe’dbelievedthatif she recorded the high-pitchedbuzzingofhouseflies

and played it back ever soslowly, she’d hear tiny littlevoices saying things like,“Dig in. Hannah spilledstrawberryjamonthekitchentable!” and “Watch out! Hermother’sgotaflyswatter!”A phalanx of giant trash

barrels sat against the wall.Several were close tooverflowing with plasticplates and coffee-ladenStyrofoam cups from thedessertbuffet.Anotherbarrel

was marked with a familiarsymbol, and it containedbottlesandcansforrecycling.Hannah wrinkled up her

nose. There was an oddcombination of scents in theair: a spicy sweetness fromthe dessert buffet, the acridscent of coffee that hadperkedtoolonginthepot,thelingering fragrance ofperfumes and colognes, andthe stale odor of spilled beerandliquor.Thosesmellswere

ordinary, what you mightexpect in a place where alargepartyhadbeenheld.Buttherewasanotherscentunderit all, cloying and sharp, andslightlymetallic. It remindedHannah of somethingunpleasant, something bad,something . . .but shedidn’twanttothinkaboutthatnow.She fought the urge to dig

in, to start picking up papernapkins, cups, glasses, andbottlesandstuffingtheminto

the appropriate trash barrels.She reminded herself thatLisa andHerb had organizeda crew of relatives to cleanthe pavilion this afternoon,and nobody expected her todo it. Her number-onepriority was to find UncleGus so that they could takethefamilypicture.A shaft of sunlight

streamed through the openwindow, setting dust mitestwirling.AsHannahwatched,

several more flies buzzed bythebeamof sunlighton theirway to the mahogany baragainst the far wall. The topof the bar was empty exceptforabrowngrocerysack,thetype that Ava used at theEden Lake Store. Uncle Gushad been here, and he musthave forgotten to take hisgrocerieswhenheleft.Anothergroupofflieswith

the same destination flew in.Ifthiskeptup,LisaandHerb

would never get the insectsout in time for the programthey’d planned tonight.Hannah hurried to thekitchen, soaked a rag withwater,andgrabbedabottleofdegreaser. Last night they’dset out the dessert buffet onthe bar, and it was apparentthat whomever had wiped itdownhadn’tdoneagoodjob.She’d clean it thoroughlyright now so that no moreflieswouldcomein.

Hannahhadalmostreachedher goal when she noticedsomething. She stoppedabruptly and peered down atthe floor. The flies weren’tthe only insect groupattracted to this particularlocale. There was a line ofblack carpenter antsstreaming toward thebaranddisappearing behind it. Theymust be looping aroundbecausetherewasareturningline of ants and they were

carrying morsels ofsomething. Carpenter antsseldom foraged for foodduringthedaylighthours,buttheir scouts must havediscovered something tastyenoughtocalloutthetroops.Hannah moved closer and

gave a groan when she sawwhat had attracted the ants.They were retrieving sweetcrumbs from a piece of hercarrot cake that had beendropped, cream cheese icing

side down, and mashed to apulp.For a brief moment,

Hannahwaslivid.UncleGushad dropped a piece of herSpecial Carrot Cake andsteppedon it!What awaste!But then she spottedsomething sticking out frombehind the bar, somethingthat looked like . . . a foot.Andtheominousorganmusicthat had been playing in hermind increased in volume

untilthecrashingchordswerealmostdeafening.“Oh, murder!” Hannah

breathed, hoping that herwordsweren’tprophetic.Butshe recognized the shoe, therich buttery leather thatshouted designer footwearwith an exorbitant price tag.And the trousers. They weremadeof imported Italian silkand they matched a well-tailored jacket that had beenpairedwithacreamsilkshirt

and a tie that had probablycost more than she made allweek at The Cookie Jar.She’d seen the ensemble lastnight at the dance and sheknewwho had been wearingit.Hannah took a bracing

breath and made her feetmove forward so that shecould see behind the bar.UncleGushadcomeback tothe pavilion to eat his carrotcake,buthe’donlyenjoyeda

bit or two. And now, as shestood there staring, he waslying face down on the floorwith theotherpiecesof cakescatteredaroundhim.Sheshuthereyesandthen

opened them. Nothing hadchanged.Therewasnodoubtthat Uncle Gus was dead.Blunt-force traumahad takenanextremelyvisible toll, andit wasn’t a pretty sight. Shewanted to find something tocover him, so the flies

couldn’tgather,butsheknewsheshouldn’ttouchanything.UncleGushadn’tcrackedhisown skull with the blood-splattered Louisville Sluggerleaningupagainstabarstool.Thiswasamurderscene,andshehadtocall...“Hannah?”The voice startled her and

she turned to look.Herbwasstandingattheopenwindow.“Youcanstoplooking.We

took the picture without

Uncle Gus. If he shows uplater,we’lltakeanotherone.”“He won’t show up,” Her

voicesoundedstrainedtoherownears,andHannahclearedherthroat.“What do you mean, He

won’tshowup?”Hannah cleared her throat

again. “He’s . . . he . . . callMike and Bill on your cellphone, will you? It’simportant.”“Okay,butwhy?”

“They need to come outhere.UncleGusis...gone.”She forced out the words,knowing full well that thewoman who hatedeuphemisms had just usedone.“You mean he left the

family reunion without evensayinggoodbye?”“Not exactly.” Hannah

winced as she avoided adirect answer once again.“Just tell them to hurry.And

don’t letanyone inuntil theygethere.”

It’sbeenasleepysummerfor

thefolksofLakeEden,Minnesota.Infact,it’sbeenawholefourmonthssince

anyoneintheSwensenfamilyhascomeacrossadeadbody—adetailthatjustmadethefrontpageofthelocalpaper.AndthatmeansHannah

Swensencanfinallyfocusonherbakery…orcanshe?

LifeisneverreallyquietforHannah.Afterall,her

mother’sweddingisalittleoveramonthawayandguesswhoDeloresputinchargeoftheplanning?YetjustwhenHannahbelievesherbiggestchallengewillbewhethertousebuttercreamorfondantfortheweddingcake,sheaccidentallyhitsastrangerwithhercookietruckwhiledrivingdownawindingcountryroadinaraging

thunderstorm.Hannahiswrackedwithguilt,and

thingsgetevenworsewhenshe’sarrested…formurder!Butanautopsysoonrevealsthemysteryman,hisshirtcoveredinstainsfrom

blackberrypie,wouldhavediedevenifHannahhadn’thithim.Now,toclearhername,Hannahwillhaveto

followatrailofpiecrumbstotrackdowntheidentityofthedeceased,findabakerwho

knowsmoreaboutmurderthanhowtorolloutaperfectpiecrust—andgetherselfto

thechurchontime…IndulgeInJoanneFluke’s

CriminallyDeliciousHannahSwensen

Mysteries!

Findoutmore…

KENSINGTONBOOKSarepublishedbyKensingtonPublishingCorp.850ThirdAvenueNewYork,NY10022ChocolateChipCookieMurdercopyright©2000byJoanneFluke“CandyforChristmas”copyright©2006byJoanneFlukeISBN:978-0-7582-7329-1

Allrightsreserved.NopartofthisbookmaybereproducedinanyformorbyanymeanswithoutthepriorwrittenconsentofthePublisher,exceptingbriefquotesusedinreviews.KensingtonandtheKlogoReg.U.S.Pat.&TMOff.