Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder (5 page)

H
annah hung her slacks and sweater on a hanger and reached out to catch Moishe before he disappeared into the still-warm interior of the dryer. “No, you don’t. Dryers eat cats and I think you’re already on your ninth life.”

With Moishe tucked under one arm, she folded a towel one-handed and carried it out to the couch. The moment she set it down, Moishe jumped on top and started to purr.

“What’s a little cat hair between friends?” Hannah asked, reaching down to scratch him under the chin before she went back to retrieve the rest of her clothes. Five minutes later, she was dressed and ready for the mayor’s fundraiser at the community center.

“I’ve got to go, Moishe.” Hannah stopped at the couch to say goodbye to him. “I’ll turn on the TV for you. Do you want A&E, or Animal Planet?”

Moishe flicked his tail and Hannah understood. “Okay, I’ll put it on A&E.
Emergency Vet
is on Animal Planet tonight and you don’t like to watch that.”

She had just flicked on the television when the phone rang. Hannah exchanged a glance with Moishe. “I’d better not answer that. It’s probably Mother again.”

Hannah listened as her outgoing message played: “Hello. This is Hannah. I can’t answer the phone right now, but if you leave a message, I’ll be glad to call you back. Wait for the beep.” The beep sounded and then her mother’s voice came through the speaker. “Where are you, Hannah? I’ve called six times already and you’re never home. Call me the minute you step in the door. It’s important!”

“Would you say that Mother sounds a little miffed?” Hannah grinned down at Moishe. His ears were laid back flat against his skull and he’d puffed up in anger at the sound of her mother’s voice. She smoothed down his ruffled fur and gave him another scratch. “Don’t worry, Moishe. She won’t come over here. She just replaced the last pair of pantyhose that you shredded.”

A rumble came from Moishe’s throat, a deep self-satisfied purr. He was definitely proud of himself for chasing away the woman he’d labeled as the “bad guy.” Hannah laughed and fetched him a couple of salmon-flavored kitty treats from the kitchen and then she rushed out the door. She had a stop to make before she could go to the mayor’s fundraiser and she was running late.

Hannah gave thanks for Lisa once again as she started her Suburban, put it into reverse, and backed out of her parking spot. A neighbor was staying with her father tonight and Lisa had offered to cart the cookies and coffee urns to the community center for her. By the time Hannah arrived, the refreshment table would be set up and all she’d have to do was smile and serve.

Night had fallen and Hannah switched on her headlights. Once she exited the complex, she turned south on Old Lake Road and took the country road that led to the Hanks place. She’d promised Bill that she’d talk to Luanne tonight to see if the lipstick was one that she carried. Luanne had finished her shift at the cafe at six and she should be home by now.

Birch trees lined the sides of County Road 12, their white bark catching in the beams of Hannah’s headlights as she drove. The Sioux had used birch bark to make canoes. When Hannah was still in grade school, her class had taken a trip to the museum to see one. Young Hannah had decided that if the Indians had built canoes so many years ago, it should be even easier to do using modern tools. Unfortunately, her mother had spotted the barkless patches on the stand of birch in their backyard. Her canoe hadn’t gotten past the planning stage before Hannah had received the scolding of her life from Delores for attempting to kill her birch trees, accompanied by a spanking from her father for pilfering his best pocketknife.

Hannah’s lights caught the metal reflective triangle that was nailed to a tree trunk at the mouth of Bailey Road and she slowed to take the turn. Bailey Road was gravel because it provided access to only three homes. Freddy Sawyer still lived in his mother’s cottage at the edge of the puddle they called Lake Bailey. He was mildly retarded, but Freddy did just fine living by himself and doing odd jobs for the people in town. The second house on Bailey Road had been finished only last year. Otis Cox and his wife had built their retirement home on the site of his parents’ old cottage. They’d told everyone in town that they liked the quiet and the solitude, but Hannah figured it had more to do with the Lake Eden statute that limited dog owners to three canines per residence. Otis and Eleanor were crazy about dogs and now that they lived outside the town limits, they could take in as many strays as they wanted.

Hannah grinned as she drove past the cozy three-bedroom house. Otis and Eleanor’s matching Explorers were in the driveway, each sporting a new bumper sticker. They were rip-offs of the old “I
New York” stickers. They read: “I
My Dog.”

The only other residence on Bailey Road, way down at the end where the snowplows had no room to turn around, was the old Hanks place. Ned Hanks, Luanne’s father, had recently died of liver disease, the result of his years of alcohol abuse. Now that Ned was gone, the only occupants of the Hanks place were Luanne, her mother, and Luanne’s baby daughter, Suzie.

As she pulled up in front of the four-room cabin, Hannah thought about Luanne’s strange reaction to Bill. He’d told Hannah that he’d stopped Luanne once, for a broken taillight on the old car she drove, and she’d seemed positively terrified of him. Hannah didn’t understand that at all. Bill was a giant teddy bear, with his easy smile and his nonthreatening manner. He didn’t have a mean bone in his body, and everyone in Lake Eden knew it.

Hannah really didn’t know Luanne that well. She’d met her a couple of times when Michelle had brought her home from school and she’d seen her at the cafe, but they hadn’t exchanged more than a few polite words. All the same, Hannah admired her. Even though Luanne had dropped out of high school in her senior year, she’d continued to study throughout her pregnancy and she’d passed the equivalency test for her diploma. Luanne was a hard worker at the cafe, always pleasant and neatly groomed, and now that her father was dead, she was the sole support of her mother and Suzie. Though there were rumors, no one really knew who had fathered Luanne’s baby. Anyone who’d had gall to ask Luanne directly had received a perfectly polite, “I’d rather not say.”

Naturally, Hannah had brought cookies. She’d packed up a bag with a dozen of her Old-Fashioned Sugar Cookies and she grabbed it as she got out of her Suburban. There was a mouth-watering aroma in the crisp night air and Hannah sniffed appreciatively. Someone was cooking supper and it smelled like fried ham and biscuits.

Luanne was clearly surprised to see Hannah when she answered the knock at the door. “Hannah! What are you doing way out here?”

“I need to talk to you, Luanne.” Hannah handed her the cookie bag. “I brought some Old-Fashioned Sugar Cookies for Suzie.”

Luanne’s eyes narrowed perceptively, and Hannah didn’t blame her. She was practically a stranger and after all Luanne had been through, it was natural not to trust people. “How nice. Suzie loves sugar cookies. But why do you need to talk to me?”

“It’s about lipstick. Do you have a couple of minutes?”

Luanne hesitated for a moment, and then said, “Come on in. Just let me serve supper and then I’m all yours. I already ate at the cafe.”

Hannah stepped through the doorway into a wide rectangular room. The kitchen was at one end, there was a table in the center for eating, and a couch, two chairs, and a television set were down at the other end. Though it was shabby, it was squeaky-clean and two-thirds of the floor was carpeted with carpet samples that had been sewn together in an attractive crazy-quilt pattern.

Mrs. Hanks was sitting at the table, holding Luanne’s baby, and Hannah walked over to her. “Hi, Mrs. Hanks. I’m Hannah Swensen. Luanne went to school with my youngest sister, Michelle.”

“Sit down, Hannah,” Mrs. Hanks invited, patting the chair next to her. “Nice of you to drop by. You need some of Luanne’s lipstick?”

For a moment Hannah was floored, but then she remembered what she’d said at the door. Mrs. Hanks had sharp ears. “That’s right.”

“Why don’t you get Hannah a cup of coffee, honey?” Mrs. Hanks motioned to Luanne. “It’s nippy outside tonight.”

Luanne walked over to set a plate of ham, a bowl of green beans, and a basket of biscuits on the table. “How about it, Hannah? Would you like some coffee?”

“Yes, if it’s made.”

“It’s made.” Luanne went back to the old wood stove and filled a cup from the blue enamel pot that sat at the back. She set it down in front of Hannah and asked, “You still drink it black, don’t you?”

“That’s right. How did you know?”

“From the cafe. The tips are bigger if I remember things like that. Just hold on a minute and I’ll put Suzie in her highchair. Then we can talk about that lipstick.”

Luanne slid her daughter into the highchair and pushed up the tray. She handed Suzie a biscuit and laughed as the little girl tried to push the whole thing into her mouth. “She’s still not clear on the concept of small bites.”

“They never are at that age,” Hannah responded with a smile.

Luanne retrieved the biscuit and broke it into bite-sized pieces. Then she turned to her mother. “Will you feed Suzie, Mom?”

“Sure will. Go on, honey. Take Hannah back and show her what’s in your sample case.”

Hannah followed Luanne into one of the bedrooms. It was painted sunny yellow and there were frilly white curtains at the window. Suzie’s crib was against the far wall, and a twin bed that Hannah assumed was Luanne’s was against the other wall. Two plastic laundry baskets sat in a corner with a few toys in each. There were three children’s books sitting on top of a child-sized table, and Hannah noticed a handful of crayons in an old bleach bottle that had been partially cut away to make a crayon carrier.

“That’s Suzie’s corner,” Luanne explained, motioning toward the table. “I’m stenciling blue and white bunnies on the wall this weekend and I’m going to paint her table blue.”

Hannah noticed that the table was longer than most children’s tables. It was just the right height for a toddler like Suzie and there was plenty of room to work. “That table’s perfect. Tracey used to have a little square one. It looked nice, but it was barely big enough for a coloring book.”

“Suzie’s used to be an old coffee table. I just sawed off the legs. Now all I have to do is find something that she can use for a chair.”

Hannah remembered the things in her sister’s garage, all the clothing, toys, and toddler-sized furniture that Tracey had outgrown. “Andrea may have a chair for Suzie. I’ll ask her.”

“No.” Luanne shook her head. “I know you mean well, Hannah, but we don’t need charity. We’re getting along just fine.”

Hannah should have guessed that Luanne would be too proud to accept an outright gift. But there were ways around pride and as she stared at the table, Hannah had an idea.

“Believe me, it’s not charity.” Hannah gave what she hoped was an exasperated sigh. “I promised to help Andrea clean out the garage this weekend and cart all of Tracey’s toddler things to the dump.”

Luanne looked shocked. “To the
dump
? You should take them to the thrift store, Hannah. I’m sure somebody would be glad to buy them secondhand.”

“I know, but this stuff has been stored for a couple of years and Andrea’s too busy to go through it. It’s easier for her to just dump it.”

Luanne looked thoughtful. “It’s a shame to think of all those things just going to waste. I could go through it for Andrea. Helping Hands always needs contributions.”

“Would you? We could just haul it out here and you could sort it out one box at a time. But you have to promise to pull out anything that you can use for Suzie. You deserve it for doing all that work.”

“I’ll be glad to do it.” Luanne sounded pleased at the prospect. “Sit down at the dressing table, Hannah.

Luanne gestured toward an old-fashioned vanity that was painted a pretty shade of blue. Its mirror was darkly spotted with signs of age, and a sampling of Pretty Girl cosmetics was arranged on the top. A battered old folding chair with a matching coat of paint sat in front of the vanity, and Luanne whisked a stuffed rabbit off the seat. Once Hannah was seated, she smiled. “You said you needed some lipstick?”