Cinnamon Roll Murder

Chapter Eight

When the alarm went off the next morning, Hannah woke up to discover that she ached all over. In other circumstances she might have thought that this had something to do with the fact that two pillow-hogging cats, who seemed to morph into much bigger creatures in the dark of night, had shared her bed. But in this case, she was almost certain her soreness and stiffness was caused by last night’s trek through the ditch with Michelle, when they’d waded through the deep snow to get to the band bus.

“Come on, you lazybones. It’s time to get up,” Hannah said to the two cats who were stretched out sideways on her mattress, taking up much more than half the bed. They didn’t move. They didn’t even flicker a whisker in her direction, so Hannah tried again. “Daylight in the swamp. Time to get up and chase all the mice that came in during the night.”

Moishe opened one yellow eye and looked at her. His mouth remained closed, but Hannah could have sworn she heard him say, Good try Hannah, but there’s no mice in here. All I smell is the leftovers from the Hamburger Bake you made for Mike. Let us sleep for gosh sakes! Just because you have to get up before the crack of dawn doesn’t mean that Cuddles and I have to lose sleep.

“All right. You can sleep,” Hannah said, bowing to that penetrating one-eyed stare. “I’ll fill your automatic feeder before I go.”

She needed coffee. She’d probably die without it. Hannah thrust her feet into her moccasin slippers, thrust her arms into the faded chenille robe she’d purchased at Lake Eden’s only thrift store, Helping Hands, and shuffled down the hall.

The door to the guest room was closed. Michelle must still be sleeping. She certainly couldn’t blame her! Lonnie and Mike hadn’t left until almost two in the morning.

As she entered the living room, she saw that the light was on in the kitchen. She must have been so tired that she’d forgotten to turn it off before she’d gone to bed. It was a good thing that her mother didn’t know, or Delores would tell her best friend, Carrie. Norman’s mother was “green” through and through, and she would be terribly worried about the number of kilowatts that Hannah had wasted. Carrie was concerned about pollution, global warming, the state of the economy, and the size of the global footprint that everyone but her was leaving. Delores had called Hannah on Christmas morning to tell her that Carrie had given her a goat. This wasn’t a real goat, Delores had rushed to explain. It was a goat that an international organization shipped to an impoverished family in a country neither Hannah nor her mother had ever heard of, so that they could have milk for their children to drink.

Carrie was a nice woman. Hannah liked her a lot. She had an abundance of good qualities, but she was a little crazy. It was wonderful that her new husband, Earl Flensburg, thought her eccentricities were charming.

Coffee. She needed it so much she could almost smell it. Hannah padded across the living room carpet and stepped into her white-walled kitchen. She put her hands over her eyes for a moment. The banks of florescent lights overhead seemed as bright as the sun in a cloudless sky.

“Good morning,” an angel said to her. “Would you like some coffee?”

“Yes,” Hannah answered in a weak voice, squinting as she made her way to the Formica table that would be an antique in about fifteen year. Of course it wasn’t really an angel. It was her youngest sister Michelle. But Hannah thought Michelle was acting exactly like an angel should act as she set a mug of lifesaving brew directly in front of her.

One sip and Hannah felt almost human. Two sips and she remembered her name. Three sips and she was capable of doing simple sums in her head. Five sips and she could not do quadratic equations. Of course she’d never been able to do quadratic equations, but she did remember the failing grade she’d gotten in algebra.

“More?” Michelle asked, wisely speaking in one-word sentences. She’d stayed at her older sister’s condo many times before, and she knew Hannah’s routine in the morning.

“Yes, thanks,” Hannah said. And then she waited, her head resting on her folded arms, until Michelle had brought the second mug of coffee. She took another sip, and a smile spread over her face. Perhaps this day wouldn’t be such a horrible day after all!

Michelle had insisted on coming to The Cookie Jar with Hannah to help, and by the time they arrived, it was six in the morning. Hannah pulled up, into her spot, plugged in the heater that kept her oil and transmission fluids at a workable temperature, and waited for Michelle to join her before she inserted her key in the lock.

Hannah turned the key, but there was no familiar click. The door was already unlocked. “Behind me, Michelle,” she warned. “Somebody opened this door.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going in, but you’re not. Stay out here. Here’s my key ring.” Hannah handed it to Michelle. “If you hear anything that doesn’t sound right, head for the van and get out of here as fast as you can.”

“No!” Michelle grabbed Hannah’s hand as she reached for the doorknob. “You’re not going in there alone. It could be a robbery in progress. Or who knows what else. You should call Mike and have him check it out first.”

Hannah shook her head. “I’m probably being overcautious and there’s nothing to worry about. Maybe Lisa came in really early.”

“Her car’s not in her parking spot.”

“I know. But there aren’t any other cars either. And there weren’t any tire tracks in the snow when we drove in.”

“But I still don’t think you should go in alone. Let’s call Lonnie if you don’t want to bother Mike. He’ll come right out here and ...”

Michelle stopped speaking as they heard the sound of a car engine.

“There’s a car coming down the alley,” Hannah pointed out quite unnecessarily.

“I hear it. Maybe it’s a volunteer coming to open Helping Hands early.”

“That’s possible. Or maybe it’s ... Andrea?” Hannah caught sight of her sister’s Volvo and simply stared. Andrea never got up this early. Ever since Andrea and Bill had hired Grandma McCann to live in to take care of Tracey and Bethie, Andrea had been sleeping late.

Andrea wheeled her Volvo into the space next to Hannah’s cookie truck, and got out of her car. “Hi Hannah. Hi Michelle.”

“What are you doing here at this time of the morning?” Hannah asked before Michelle could voice the question.

“Mother called me and told me to meet her here. They even unlocked the back door for me.”

“Who unlocked it?” Hannah asked her.

“Lisa. Mother’s having an early morning meeting with Lisa to tell her everything about finding the body. She wants Lisa to tell the story because she knows it brings in lots of business for you.”

Just then the back door opened and Delores poked her head out. “What are you doing out here? It’s really cold this morning, and you’re going to freeze to death. Come on in. Lisa and I have fresh coffee and cookies for you.”

Hannah had expected Delores to visibly show the signs of the traumatic experience she’d suffered the previous evening. But her mother was smiling. Her hair and her makeup were perfect, and she was wearing another of her designer suits.

Andrea took off her coat and hung it on a hook next to the back door. She was also dressed to perfection in a lovely dark green pantsuit that set off her light blond hair.

Hannah glanced down at her jeans and rather heavy lavender sweater. Then she turned to look at Michelle, who was wearing corduroy slacks and a dark heavy brown sweater, and she thought she understood why she loved her youngest sister so much.

“Sit down. Both of you,” Delores ordered.

Hannah and Michelle took seats at the stainless steel work island in the center of the kitchen. It was obvious that Delores was in charge, even though it was Hannah’s domain.

“Why are you here so early?” Hannah asked Lisa.

“Your mother called me last night and asked me to meet her here. I had Dad drop me off, and I came early to start the baking. I’ve got a batch of Short Stack Cookies coming out in a minute or two if you want a fresh cookie.”

“I do,” Michelle said immediately.

“I’d like one, too,” Hannah echoed the sentiment.

“So would I,” Delores said, smiling at Lisa. “I’ve been up for hours and I’m ready for breakfast.”

There was a moment of silence. Then all three sisters turned to stare at their mother in shock.

“Cookies for breakfast?!” Michelle was the first to recover enough to ask.

“You never let us have cookies for breakfast when we were kids,” Andrea complained.

Hannah gave her mother a searching look. “Don’t tell me we finally managed to convince you that cookies are breakfast food!”

“Of course not. But some cookies are more acceptable than others. Delores gave all three of them a smug smile. “Lisa told me that Short Stack Cookies taste just like pancakes. And pancakes are perfect for breakfast.”