by Joanne Fluke
“Didn’t work for Neil Roper,” Hannah said, before she could stop herself.
“What do you mean?”
Hannah came close to groaning. Her mother was depressed. The man she’d trusted, the man she’d been about to marry had betrayed her. She needed tender loving care, but Hannah had stuck her foot in it. “I mean, he had his breath taken away. Literally. And I don’t think he enjoyed it.”
“Hannah!” Delores rebuked her, but a smile was hovering at the corners of her lips. “That’s awful.”
“I know. It’s just the way my mind works. I must have gotten it from Dad.”
“Or me,” Delores said, the smile peeking out. “I had a pretty good sense of humor at one time. I lost it after your dad died.”
“Maybe you’ll get it back,” Hannah said, hoping that was the right thing to say. Careful, sensitive counseling wasn’t her thing. She tended to say it like it was.
“I hope so. I miss being able to laugh at myself. Change places with me, Hannah. I don’t want to look at myself in the mirror.”
“Okay.” Hannah got up and changed places with her mother. “Why don’t you want to look at yourself?”
“Because I look awful.”
“No, you don’t!” Hannah stared at her mother in shock. Delores was wearing a sleek dark green pantsuit that showed off her perfect figure, her makeup was flawlessly applied, and her hair looked fabulous. “You look great, Mother. That pantsuit is terrific on you. I’d kill for a figure like yours.”
“You would?” Delores looked pleased at the compliment.
“Absolutely.”
“It’s simple to improve your figure, dear. All you have to do is watch your diet and get plenty of exercise.”
“I know. But I won’t do it.”
“But…you said you’d kill for a figure like mine.”
“Oh, I’d kill for it. I just won’t diet and exercise for it.”
Delores laughed, a bit hysterically, Hannah thought, and then she reached up to dab at her eyes again. “I’m terribly ashamed of myself, Hannah. Winthrop was right. I’m just a foolish old lady.”
“No, you’re not!” Hannah crossed her fingers and hoped she could think of the right thing to say.
“I am foolish. What else would you call a fifty-year-old woman who falls for a fake English lord who’s more than ten years younger than she is, just because he’s handsome and he can dance the tango?”
Hannah took heart. Her mother was fifty-seven, not fifty. If Delores could still lie about her age, she still had some hope left for the future. Of course there was another possibility, one that negated any positive spin that Hannah had attempted to generate. It was possible that her mother had lied about her age for so long, she’d actually lost track.
“Well? What would you call her?”
“A romantic,” Hannah said. “I admire that about you, Mother. You’re not afraid to dream. And once you find that dream, you go for it. I wish I had your nerve.”
“But not my gullibility,” Delores said, smiling slightly.
“No, not that,” Hannah agreed, reaching out to give her mother a hug. “Although…it beats being bored for the rest of your life.”
“Are you bored, dear?”
“Not me. Just when I think I might be, there’s always something.”
“That’s true. I was just saying to…” Delores stopped in mid-sentence and started to frown. “I swear that was Vanessa’s Corvette I just saw.”
“Are you sure?”
Delores gave a short laugh. “Of course I’m sure. How many gold Corvettes are there in Lake Eden?”
“You’ve got a point,” Hannah said, turning to look at the taillights that were disappearing around the corner of the block. “She must be just getting home.”
“Well, I hope she stays put.”
Delores stared at Hannah and Hannah stared right back. Hannah had no doubt that the mother-daughter radar was working and the same thought was running through their minds.
“You think somebody’s going to call and tell her that her former partner’s been arrested? And she’s going to take off before Mike can get that warrant from Georgia?” Hannah asked.
“That’s exactly what I think. How about you?”
“Me, too. There are no secrets in Lake Eden. Mike should have realized that. What do you think we should do about it?”
“Watch her.”
“Surveillance. That’s good. And what shall we do if she leaves?”
“Follow her. And call the sheriff’s department. We’re supposed to do that, aren’t we?”
“Yes, we’re supposed to do that. I don’t have a cell phone, do you?”
“No. I was going to get one, but…she’s leaving!” Delores pointed out the window at the car that was inching out of the alley that led to the Magnolia Blossom Bakery. “She must have heard about it wherever she was, and she made a quick trip back here to pick up money, or her passport, or something.”
Hannah got up for a better look. “You’re right. That’s Vanessa. She’s just checking out the street to make sure the coast is clear. Let’s go!”
“This is exciting,” Delores said, sipping the mug of coffee she’d grabbed to take with her. “Are you sure your truck can keep up with her?”
“She’s not driving fast.”
“That’s because she really is from the South. They just don’t know how to deal with the weather we have up here. Do you think she knows we’re behind her?”
“Maybe, but it really doesn’t matter. I’ve got a full tank of gas and we’ll follow her as far as we have to.”
Hannah and Delores were silent as they tailed Vanessa through the silent streets. The only sound was the slap of Hannah’s windshield wipers against the glass. It was snowing again, very lightly, but just enough so that she needed to clear the glass. Why was it that snow, or rain for that matter, always fell at a rate that was just between the set speeds of the windshield wipers?
“What if she sees us behind her and stops?” Delores asked. “Do you have a weapon?”
“Only cookies. We could force-feed her chocolate, but I don’t think that would do much good.”
“I’ve got my coffee cup,” Delores said. “I could throw that at her.”
“But could you hit her?”
“Of course I could hit her. I used to be the pitcher on my high school softball team.”
“Whoa!” Hannah gasped, turning for a quick look at her mother. “Will you play for The Cookie Jar? I’m going to have a softball team this summer and I need a pitcher.”
Delores looked as excited as Hannah had ever seen her. “I’ll do it! You’ve got a pitcher!”
“Thanks, Mother,” Hannah said and then she gasped as Vanessa did something she hadn’t expected. She hung a U-turn in the middle of the road and headed straight back toward Hannah’s truck.
“What is she doing?” Delores asked.
“I don’t know. Brace yourself, Mother. I’m going to try to run her off the road. I think she’ll go in the ditch rather than hit us.”
Even if Vanessa had opted for toughing it out, it wouldn’t have been much of a collision. Vanessa’s Corvette was low to the ground, and Hannah was driving the American SUV that some car magazines had compared to a tank. As Hannah bore down on Vanessa’s car, and Vanessa tried to move out of the way, the Corvette hit a patch of ice and skidded off the road into the ditch.
“We got her!” Delores exulted, as the Corvette sank into the snow so far that its wheels were covered. “There’s no way she can drive out of that!”
“You’re right. But I wonder why she…Look!”
Hannah pointed to what had caused Vanessa’s abrupt reversal. Four sheriff’s squad cars were waiting at the entrance to the freeway with their lights flashing.
“There’s more back there!” Delores exclaimed.
Hannah turned to see what looked like a phalanx of squad cars coming up behind them.
Sirens screamed as the squad cars descended
upon them, and Hannah and Delores covered their ears. A brace of deputies headed for Vanessa’s Corvette, and radios crackled commands in the icy night air.
“Are you okay, Mother?” Hannah asked, tearing her eyes away from the multitude of red lights that were dancing across the face of the snow.
“I’m fine,” Delores said, her eyes sparkling. “I haven’t had so much fun in years.”
Once Hannah made sure her mother was comfortable with coffee and the bag of cookies she’d grabbed on her way out the door, she got out of the truck and headed for the scene of the action. She climbed a slight rise and peered down the embankment at Vanessa’s car buried in the snow. Two sheriff’s deputies had Vanessa in handcuffs and Mike was supervising her arrest. When he finished, he turned, saw Hannah, and motioned for her to wait as he climbed the bank.
“Why were you following Vanessa?” Mike asked when he arrived at her side.
Hannah swallowed hard. Mike didn’t sound pleased at all. “Well…Mother and I thought that maybe…”
“That maybe I was so dumb I wouldn’t stake out her apartment?” Mike finished the thought for her.
“Not exactly. It’s just…”
“It’s just that you didn’t trust me to do my job?” Mike interrupted again.
“No! Mother and I were in The Cookie Jar having coffee. And we saw Vanessa leaving in her car. You didn’t tell us you were going to have her under surveillance, or stake out her apartment, or anything like that. If you had, we wouldn’t have bothered to chase her.”
“So you just underestimated me,” Mike said.
“I…I…” Hannah struggled to think of some way to go on the attack, but Mike was right and the only fair thing to do was admit it. “I did underestimate you. I’m sorry, Mike.”
Mike didn’t say anything. He just stared at her for a long minute. And then he asked, “Did I just hear you apologize?”
“Yes.” Hannah nodded, and then she decided she’d better qualify it. “I apologize for underestimating you, not for anything else.”
Mike grinned. “Good enough.”
There was a moment when Hannah thought Mike was going to kiss her, but he just slipped one arm around her waist and gave her a little hug. “You must be tired. It’s exhausting to try to run the world, isn’t it, Hannah?”
“I don’t…” Hannah stopped in mid-sentence. Now wasn’t the time to light into Mike, not when she had a favor to ask. “Can I talk to Vanessa for just a second? We have some unfinished business.”
“Yes, as long as you don’t scratch her eyes out, or maim her in any way.”
“You don’t have to worry about that. I wouldn’t attack her in front of witnesses.”
Mike laughed and Hannah felt better. Laughter was better than apologies.
“Hold up a second,” Mike called out to the two deputies who were about to climb into their squad car. Then he turned back to Hannah. “Come with me. You’ve got one minute.”
Mike escorted Hannah to the squad car and opened the back door. “Someone to talk to you, Vanessa,” he said.
“You!” Vanessa glared at Hannah. “You ran me off the road!”
“Of course I did. I couldn’t let you get away. Do you want me to find you a lawyer?”
Vanessa’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “You’d do that for me?”
“Absolutely…if you’ll sell me everything in your bakery. I’ve decided I want it all.”
“Take it. I don’t care. Take everything that’s there. It’s a gift. Just find me a lawyer.”
“A gift that big isn’t legal. Not when you’re under duress. Set a price and I’ll pay it.”
“A thousand dollars for everything. Take it or leave it. But you have to find me the best lawyer in town.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Deal,” Hannah said, smiling. And then she turned to Mike. “You heard that?”
“I heard it.”
“Okay. I’m out of here then. I have to go get Vanessa a lawyer.”
When Hannah got back to her cookie truck, the smile was still on her face. It had been a very productive night.
“You look happy,” Delores said.
“I am.” Hannah climbed in behind the wheel and turned around to drive back to town. Howie Levine was the best lawyer in Lake Eden. He was also the only lawyer in Lake Eden, but that didn’t matter. She’d call him the moment she got home and tell him about his new client. That would fulfill her part of the bargain, and once she sold off Vanessa’s crystal, silver, and china, she would completely recoup the business losses they’d suffered at The Cookie Jar.
“So why are you smiling like that?” Delores asked.
Hannah considered telling her about the incredible deal she’d made on Vanessa’s possessions, and how she thought she’d arrived at some kind of a truce with Mike, but all that was complicated. It had been a long day, and she was too exhausted to explain. She summed it all up as best she could in one simple sentence. “I’m always happy when the good guys win,” she said.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Hannah glanced at her reflection in the mirror. She looked good, really good. Her hair was behaving, and her skin was glowing. The former was due to a new gel that Andrea had picked up for her, and the latter had been caused by the icy wind she’d braved when she’d dashed out this morning with the garbage.
The outfit Hannah was wearing was pure Claire. Claire Rodgers from Beau Monde Fashions, the upscale boutique next to The Cookie Jar, had called Hannah in to show her a suit from her newest shipment. It was a color called barleycorn, a shade of brown with a bit of orange in it that picked up the highlights in Hannah’s red hair. The fitted jacket and circle skirt were cut from a woven material that Claire said would accentuate her figure assets and minimize her figure faults. Since Hannah figured she had more faults than assets, she’d bought the outfit on the strength of Claire’s conviction.
Today was a special occasion. Lisa and Herb had decided to use the complimentary champagne brunch gift that Gloria Travis had given them for their wedding. Sally’s champagne brunches, at the Lake Eden Inn, were legendary, and Hannah hadn’t eaten a speck of food in twenty-four hours to prepare for the event. They were celebrating the arrest of Bobby Joe Peters, aka Winthrop Harrington the Second, for the murder of Shawna Lee Quinn. And they were also celebrating the arrest of Vanessa Quinn Roper for the murder of her husband, Neil Roper. There was even more to celebrate because Hannah had given Lisa and Herb a second wedding gift. Now that she owned all the durable goods in the Magnolia Blossom Bakery, she’d told them to go through the apartment on the second floor and take any furnishings they liked for their home.
Hannah had just picked up the earrings she was planning to wear, an unusual accessory for her and a testament to the importance of the occasion, when she happened to glance in the mirror. What she saw made her stop with her hand halfway up to her ear, and stare.
Moishe had just come into the bedroom and it was clear he was carrying kitty crunchies in his mouth. He often did this, transporting food to a more comfortable place to consume it. But instead of sitting down to eat it on the floor, or hopping up on the bed to have his snack, he snagged the sliding door to the closet with his paw and pulled it open.
Strange, Hannah thought, continuing to watch as her resident feline disappeared into the jumble of shoes, boxes, and other things she simply couldn’t throw out that were stored on the floor of her closet. A few moments later, Moishe came back out, pushed the closet door shut, and headed back to the kitchen for another bite.
Even stranger, Hannah thought . What is he doing? Feeding the mice he keeps in the closet?
Hannah chuckled as she put on one earring. That was patently absurd. Cats fed mice in an occasional cartoon, never in real life. In real life, mice fed cats. Literally. Perhaps the closet was the scene of a particularly tasty former meal involving small rodents and dust bunnies, and Moishe had decided to treat it thereafter as his private dining r
oom.
Hannah had put on her second earring and was struggling with the clasp on her necklace when Moishe came back into the room. Again, he was carrying kitty crunchies in his mouth, and again, he opened the closet door with his paw. Hannah listened carefully, but she didn’t hear the sound of crunching. Moishe wasn’t eating. She was almost sure of that. But she did think she heard a small squeak. Could she have been right the first time? Could Moishe actually be feeding the mice he was keeping in the closet? If so, there must be a reason and only two occurred to her. Either the mice had become Moishe’s friends and he was feeding them to keep them alive, or he’d taken a hint from the farmers in the Lake Eden area and he was fattening them up for the kill.
She had to find out. Hannah waited until Moishe had headed back to the kitchen again, and then she opened the closet. What she saw surprised her. It was a mound of kitty crunchies with no mice in sight.
“Stranger and stranger,” Hannah intoned, hurrying to the kitchen. Moishe was still there, but he was just disappearing into a hole he’d eaten in the side of the broom closet door, a hole that led straight to the twenty-five-pound bag of kitty crunchies. He’d tunneled through the door and he hadn’t wanted Hannah to know that he’d done it until he’d moved the mother lode to a safe place!
“I just couldn’t!” Hannah said, shaking her head as Sally came to the table with a fresh basket of popovers. “I’ve already eaten way too much.”
“Are you sure?” Sally asked, holding the basket out so that Hannah could see the puffs of golden pastry nestled in the napkin.
“Well…maybe one. With butter. And apricot jam.”
Everyone laughed including Norman, who was sitting to her right, and Mike, who was sitting to her left. Hannah grinned good-naturedly and looked around for the dish of butter and the pot of homemade apricot jam.
“Here’s the butter,” Mike said, and he passed the dish so that Hannah could take it with her left hand.
“And here’s the jam,” Norman added, zooming in from the other side so that Hannah could take the pot of jam with her right hand.
“How about some more coffee to go with that?” Norman asked, grabbing the carafe. “Or orange juice?” He picked up the pitcher of orange juice with his other hand.
