Double Fudge Brownie Murder (Hannah Swensen series Book 18)

by Fluke, Joanne

  Ross raised his feet like everyone else as the cats raced around the table. “So that’s what feet up means! But why do you steady the . . .” He stopped speaking as Moishe slammed into the table leg and their coffee sloshed in the cups. “Oh! Now I get it.”

  “Hannah’s cat got my steak that way one night at Norman’s house,” Lonnie explained. “Moishe crashed into the table leg, and my steak fell on the floor. Before we could pick it up, he grabbed it and ran up to Norman’s bedroom with it. By the time we got up there, both cats were under the bed eating it.”

  “So now he does it on purpose,” Ross said, catching on immediately. “It’s almost impossible to wipe out the effects of intermittent reinforcement. Moishe and Cuddles will probably do this every time you have food on the table.”

  “He’s right,” Hannah said, exchanging glances with her sisters. There was no need to say that they’d helped the intermittent reinforcement along by dropping some of the little bits of pork they’d secreted in their napkins. “If they keep on doing this, we may have to eat behind closed doors.”

  “Or take them to my house every time we eat here,” Norman said. “And bring them here, every time we eat at my house.”

  “Or you could simply come to our house,” Lisa suggested, “except then we’d have to deal with our dogs because Dillon and Sammy beg at the table.”

  Hannah turned to her partner in surprise. “I thought you weren’t going to give them scraps from the table.”

  “I wasn’t. And I haven’t.” Lisa turned to Herb. “He does it all the time, but they know better than to beg from me.”

  “How about at breakfast?” Herb asked Lisa, and Hannah noticed that Lisa’s face turned slightly pink. “You know as well as I do that breakfast is a free-for-all at our house.”

  “Not all the time! And it’s only when we have bacon.” Lisa turned to Hannah. “It’s those sad puppy dog eyes. I just have to give Dillon some of my bacon. And in the interest of fairness, I simply have to give Sammy the same amount.”

  “Let me get this straight,” Hannah said. “You feed them bits of bacon at breakfast, but you don’t feed them anything at lunch or dinner?”

  Lisa nodded. “That’s right.”

  “And somehow you expect them to know that they can beg from you if there’s bacon on the table but they can’t beg from you if you don’t serve bacon?”

  “Exactly right. That’s the way I trained them.”

  Hannah began to grin. “So . . . you’re telling me that you never serve bacon at lunch or dinner?”

  “Well . . . there are exceptions. Sometimes we have BLTs for lunch, but they smell entirely different than just plain bacon. A dog’s sense of smell is very acute, you know.”

  Hannah turned to Herb. “Does this actually work?”

  “Not at all, but Lisa keeps trying.”

  Everyone at the table laughed, including Lisa. “Herb’s right. It’s not really working, but you know me. I refuse to give up. One of these days one of them will get it . . . maybe. And in the meantime, they get lots of bacon.”

  “Maybe you should try to pair it with a signal,” Tracey suggested. “You know, like ringing a bell when it’s bacon for breakfast, but not ringing it when it’s bacon for lunch. After a while, they might not expect anything when the bell doesn’t ring.”

  Just as Tracey finished speaking, a bell rang. It sounded like a clock way off in the distance, but Hannah didn’t have any clocks with chimes.

  “Did you do that for effect?” she asked Tracey.

  “No, you did. You’re getting a text message, Aunt Hannah.”

  “Oh!” Hannah exclaimed, and then she laughed at herself. “It’ll stay there until I retrieve it, won’t it?”

  “Yes,” Tracey assured her. “It’ll stay there until you read it and then it’ll go into the old text mode unless you erase it.”

  “Right. That’s what you taught me at lunch.”

  “Yes. And you taught me how to make Pop in Your Mouth Chocolate Candy. Do you think they’re ready yet, Aunt Hannah?”

  Hannah glanced at the clock. “I’m sure they are. Why don’t you go get them right now, Tracey?” She looked around the table. “You all want to try one, don’t you?”

  “You have to ask when it’s chocolate?” Grandma McCann questioned with a laugh.

  “Chockit!” Bethie said, clapping her hands. “I want chockit!”

  “She knows how to say that,” Bill commented. “Andrea says it’s the first word she learned.”

  Andrea shook her head. “Actually, it’s not. Her first word was for you, Bill. She called you Da-da, just like Tracey did. It’s pretty obvious that Daddies count more than Mommies in our family.”

  “Now you know that’s not true,” Bill said with a laugh, but Hannah noticed that he looked very proud. She hoped that Andrea would never admit that both Tracey and Bethie had said Ma-ma first.

  After more coffee refills and several Pop in Your Mouth Chocolate Candy pieces that everyone pronounced incredibly delicious, Norman got up. “I’d better check on the cats.”

  “Because they’re quiet . . . too quiet?” Hannah asked him.

  “That’s right. It generally means that they’re into something when they do that at my house. The last time it was the cat food. One of them knocked the bag down from the counter and they were in the kitchen gorging themselves.”

  “That’s why I have a padlock on my broom closet and I keep the cat food in there,” Hannah said. “Moishe hasn’t figured out how to pick that lock yet.”

  Mike smiled. “Give him time, Hannah. And if he can’t get to his dry food, he’ll learn how to use a can opener and steal your tuna and salmon.”

  “Or your salad shrimp,” Lisa said. “I bet he could open your freezer if he really put his mind to it.”

  “Look at this!” Norman came back holding a small teddy bear.

  “Where did you find that?” Hannah asked him.

  “The cats had it under your bed and they were chewing on it. I think I got it just in time. They punctured it a few times with their teeth and they were probably getting ready to pull out the stuffing.” Norman stopped and frowned slightly. “It’s not a cat toy, is it?”

  Hannah took the teddy bear from Norman and examined it. “No, and it’s not mine, either.” She turned to look at Michelle. “Is it yours?”

  “No, it’s not mine.” Michelle turned to Andrea. “Is it yours?”

  Andrea shook her head. “It’s not mine and it’s not one of Bethie’s toys. It has beads for the eyes and we don’t let her play with anything she could pull off and choke on.”

  “It doesn’t squeak, does it?” Lisa asked.

  “I don’t think so.” Hannah squeezed it several times, but the teddy bear didn’t make a sound. “No squeak,” she reported.

  “Then it’s not a dog toy. They usually have squeakers inside.”

  “Could I see it, Hannah?” Grandma McCann asked.

  Hannah handed the teddy bear to Grandma McCann, and Ross, who was sitting next to Bethie’s high chair, watched as she examined it. “Maybe that loop at the top of its head is a hanger,” he said. “You could slip it over a nail, or . . . wait a second! It’s made of red and green plaid. Do you think it could be a Christmas tree ornament?”

  “I think that’s exactly what it is,” Andrea told him. “I’ve seen bears like that at the mall. I was thinking of doing a bear Christmas tree, but I decided to wait until the girls were older and they could help me pick out the ornaments.”

  “I’m older,” Tracey pointed out.

  “I know you are. Let’s wait until Bethie is old enough to appreciate it and then we’ll do it.”

  “Okay,” Tracey said, smiling at her mother. “It’ll be more fun if Bethie can go shopping with us, too.”

  “Looks like the cat burglar struck again,” Mike said. “I think we’d better put a tail on Moishe.”

  “He’s got a tail, Uncle Mike!” Tracey said, and then she giggled.

&
nbsp; Mike laughed and so did everyone else with the exception of the cats who had come into the room and were looking at them curiously.

  “Aha!” Mike said. “Here’s my prime suspect, right over there in the orange and white coat. Lonnie? I want you to interrogate the suspect for me.”

  “Sure thing, boss.” Lonnie patted his lap and Moishe jumped up. “Please state your name for the record.”

  “Rrrrrow!” Moishe said.

  “Could you spell that for the record?”

  “Rrrrrow.”

  “Thank you. All right, Mr. Cat. If you’re honest with me, it’ll go easier on you. Where were you on the night of . . .” Lonnie turned to Bill. “What’s the right date, Sheriff Bill?”

  Bill was laughing so hard, he couldn’t answer and so was everyone else around the table.

  “All right then,” Lonnie continued. “We’ll concentrate on the previous three nights, Mr. Cat. That would be Wednesday, Tuesday, and Monday.”

  Moishe stared up at Lonnie blankly. His expression was so comical, it sent everyone off in gales of laughter again.

  “Stop!” Hannah said at last. “I’m going to have sore ribs tomorrow from laughing so hard.”

  Lonnie lifted Moishe and lowered him to the rug. “Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Cat. You may now leave in the company of Miss Cat . . . or is that Miss Chief?”

  “Mischief!” Tracey almost collapsed as she caught on to what Lonnie was saying. “That’s funny, Uncle Lonnie!”

  “I missed you all so much,” Ross said, smiling at Hannah. “I never laughed like this in California. It’s really good to be back.”

  “So how did the interview go?” Mike asked him.

  “Yes,” Norman jumped into the conversation. “Did you get the job, Ross?”

  Hannah held her breath and crossed her fingers the way she had as a child when she wanted something she didn’t think she could live without. She not only crossed her middle fingers with her pointer fingers, she also crossed her ring fingers with her pinkies. And then, for good measure, she crossed her thumbs together in her lap. She would have willingly crossed her toes, if she’d been able to figure out how to do it.

  “The interview went well,” Ross told them. “I have the job on a week’s trial basis.”

  “They’re pretty cheap out at KCOW,” Lonnie said. “One of my sisters worked there until she found something better. Did they try to get you to work that trial week without pay?”

  “No, it’s half-pay. But that’s okay for a week. They’ll let me know by next Friday at the latest. Then, if I’ve got the job, I’ll go up to full pay, benefits, and bonuses for every project I film for them.”

  Mike whistled. “Not bad. You must have driven a hard bargain.”

  “I did. I told them that, in the interest of full disclosure, I also had an upcoming interview at WCCO Television in Minneapolis.”

  “Do you?” Bill asked.

  “Actually . . . yes. What I didn’t tell them was that all WCCO was interested in was using the film I shot here in Lake Eden to kick off their Minnesota at the Movies month.”

  “Smart,” Norman said, smiling at Ross. “KCOW might have tried to work you at half-pay for more than one week if you hadn’t told them that.”

  Hannah listened to the ensuing conversation, but she was concentrating much more on her inner thoughts. KCOW offered Ross a job! It’s a temporary job, only for a week, but they’re bound to be impressed with him. Say they hire him full-time and pay him a full salary. What, exactly, does that mean for me? Will Ross ask me to marry him? And if he does, what will I say?

  “Earth to Hannah,” Norman said, stilling her inquisitive mind and bringing her back to the conversation with a jolt.

  “Yes, Norman?” Hannah smiled. “Sorry about that. I was thinking about . . .”she thought fast and came up with something, “. . . baking a new cookie.”

  “What kind of cookie?” Tracey asked her.

  “A tea cookie.”

  “A refrigerated one?” Lisa asked and Hannah noticed that she looked interested.

  “Actually . . . no. I was thinking about baking a cookie with tea in it. Mother’s Regency Romance Readers Group would love it.”

  Ross gave her a look that said Maybe you can fool them, but you can’t fool me. That wasn’t what you were thinking about at all.

  Hannah could feel herself beginning to blush and she quickly dropped her eyes, but not before she saw his amused smile.

  Grandma McCann glanced at her watch. “It’s getting late and it’s a school night. I’d better take my little lambs home.”

  “Widdow Wamm,” Bethie said and then she laughed.

  “That’s right,” Tracey told her. “You’re Grandma McCann’s little lamb.”

  “Widdow Wamm,” Bethie repeated again. It obviously delighted her because she said it over and over as Grandma McCann got her into her coat. Bill collapsed the foldable high chair, Andrea made sure that Tracey’s jacket was zipped up, and they all went down the stairs together to help Grandma McCann get them safely into the car.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  “Alone at last,” Ross said when everyone had left. “How long do we have before Michelle and Lonnie come back from their walk around the complex?”

  “I don’t know,” Hannah said. “I guess it depends on how cold it is out there.”

  “Fair enough. You said you had the makings for tequila sunrises. Would you like me to make one for you?”

  “That would be nice. Will you have one with me?”

  “Sure. I could use something to relax me after the flight and the interview. Come to the kitchen with me and show me where everything is. We’ll make our drinks together.”

  Hannah felt her spirits rising as she walked to the kitchen with Ross’s arm warm around her shoulders. It was great to be together again.

  “I’ve been thinking about the motel,” Ross said and he sounded very serious. “I don’t think you should drive out there, Hannah.”

  “Why?” Hannah asked, wondering if he knew that she’d been having second thoughts about that. She’d offered to drive out because she’d wanted to be alone with him, but now she wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do.

  “Don’t take this wrong, Hannah.” Ross gave her a little hug. “I want you to come out there with me, but someone’s bound to see you. We can wait, can’t we?”

  “Yes, we can wait.” Hannah turned to kiss him. “Thank you, Ross. That’s exactly what I was thinking.” Wait for what? her mind asked. Wait for the cows to come home? Ask him what he means. You know you want to know.

  But Hannah squelched the urge to ask. Ross would tell her what he’d meant when the time was right. In the meantime, she was happy just to be with him doing things like eating dinner, enjoying company, and talking. More serious things would come later. She was sure of it. And if Ross could wait, so could she.

  Hannah didn’t think about the text message until she was in bed for the night. She was tired and she wanted to go to sleep, but perhaps her mother had responded to her question about Margaret George.

  “I’ll be right back,” Hannah told the cat she knew would claim her pillow the instant she was out of the room, and went to get her phone. She flicked on the light in the living room, glanced at the display on the screen, and pressed the button Tracey had taught her to press to retrieve text messages.

  There it was! She must have done it right! Hannah was so excited about her success, she almost forgot to read the text message. When she did, a wide smile spread across her face.

  Hello, dear. You were right. Margaret George is in my Regency group. She’d rather be called Peggy than Margaret and she lives in Elk River. Carrie has her street address. Go see her. I know she’ll remember you. She was wild about your Regency Ginger Crisps. Love, Mother.

  “Thank you, Mother,” Hannah said aloud, and made a promise to herself that she’d text her mother in the morning when she wasn’t so tired and was capable of remembering the instructions that
Tracey had given her. She plugged in her phone to charge it and went back to her bedroom. Just as she’d expected, Moishe had commandeered her pillow.

  “Fine. I’ll use yours.” She grabbed his pillow and crawled into bed for a much-needed rest.

  Morning came much too early. Hannah groaned when her alarm went off and she resisted the urge to press the snooze button with every fiber of her being. She let the electronic beeping go on as she dangled her feet over the side of the bed and forced herself to sit up. She wanted nothing so much as to crawl back into the nest of blankets still warm from her body, and cuddle up for another five minutes that could turn into ten with another press of her snooze button, or fifteen, or twenty.

  “Up!” she commanded her body and reached under the bed for her slippers. Her nose began to function and she smelled the invigorating scent of freshly brewed coffee.

  “Michelle,” she said with a gratefulness that bordered on the pathetic. There was another scent in the air as well, something with the delightful aroma of cinnamon and raisins and brown sugar. Coffee cake? Rolls? Whatever it was, she wanted some!

  She told herself that she had to shower and dress before she could taste whatever it was that Michelle had made for breakfast. With that inducement firmly in place, she made short work of it.

  Ten minutes later, she was walking down the hallway with Moishe at her heels, and she was eager to taste the reason for her haste. “Good morning, Michelle,” she greeted her youngest sister as she hurried into the kitchen. “What smells so delicious?”

  “Cinnamon Raisin Scones.” Michelle turned around to look at her. “You’re dressed!”

  “That’s your fault.”

  “What?”

  “I told myself that I couldn’t come out to see what you were baking until after I’d showered and dressed. So I did. Really fast.”

  “Turn around,” Michelle said, and then she laughed.