Candy Cane Murder (Hannah Swensen #9.5)(5)

Hannah heard Sally’s voice over the loudspeaker, inviting everyone to come to the buffet tables. Cory heard it too, and he extended his arm. “Shall we, Hannah?”

“Absolutely. Thank you, Cory.” Hannah took his arm and hoped he hadn’t heard her stomach growl as they headed off to join the line for the buffet.

Sally’s dessert buffet was splendiferous. Hannah eyed a piece of Italian Apple Tort and was about to succumb to temptation when she remembered how tight the tights on her elf costume had been.

“Trying to decide?” Mike asked, causing her to jump.

“Trying to resist,” Hannah corrected him. “How do you do that anyway?”

“Do what?”

“Sneak up on people.”

“We learn it in cop school.” Mike flashed her a grin that made her stomach do a little flipflop. If someone conducted a poll of the single, divorced, and widowed women in Lake Eden, Minnesota, Mike Kingston, Chief Detective at the Winnetka County Sheriff’s Department, would be a shoo-in 18

Joanne Fluke

for most desirable husband. “Too bad you took off your costume. I thought you looked cute in it.”

Hannah stared at him for a minute in utter disbelief and then she said, “I think the county pays for that.”

“Pays for what?”

“Eye surgery. I understand they’re doing wonders with lasers now.”

Mike laughed so loudly several guests at the buffet turned to look at him. “Very funny, Hannah. But I really did think you looked cute. If you’re not going to have a slice of that apple thing, do you want to dance?”

Did she want to dance? Hannah ranked that question right up there with Do you want to breathe? Did she want Mike to put his arms around her and hold her close? Did she want to look up at him and realize that their lips were only inches apart? Did he even have to ask?!

“Hannah?” Mike prompted, and Hannah came out of her musings to realize that he was holding out his arm.

“Thanks, Mike. I’d love to dance,” she said quickly, accepting his arm and walking with him to the dance floor.

Dancing with Mike must have broken the ice, because once the last notes of music had faded away, Norman appeared to claim her for the next dance. After that, Andrea’s husband, Sheriff Bill Todd, piloted her around the floor. Then there was a series of local men, one right after the other, including Cory Reynolds, Mayor Bascomb, Doc Knight, Reverend Knudson, her host Dick Laughlin, and the town druggist, Jon Walker.

“I’m not moving for at least ten minutes,” she declared, sinking into a chair at the table she was sharing with her sisters. She slipped off her shoes and wiggled her feet, hoping that the feeling would eventually return to her toes.

“Feet hurt from all that dancing?” Andrea asked her.

“Sure do. And skipping in those pointy toed elf shoes didn’t help either.” She glanced around and didn’t spot Bill. Lonnie CANDY CANE MURDER

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Murphy, one of Bill’s deputies and Michelle’s date for the evening, was nowhere in sight either. “Where are Bill and Lonnie?”

“Lonnie’s dancing with his mother. His dad’s outside fixing a car,” Michelle explained.

“And Bill’s dancing with Barbara Donnelly,” Andrea named the head secretary at the sheriff’s station. “I’m so glad she’s not married!”

Michelle and Hannah exchanged a Did-you-understand— that? glance, immediately followed by a Not-me! shrug.

“Okay, I’ll bite.” Hannah caved in and turned to Andrea.

“Why are you glad Barbara’s not married?”

“Because then her husband would ask me to dance, and I’d have to do it to be polite. And I’m too tired to dance. I made four batches of Whippersnappers this afternoon.”

Hannah stared at her sister in utter amazement. When most women talked about “batches,” they were referring to cookies, brownies, muffins, or some type of baked goods.

Surely Andrea had another explanation. As far as Hannah knew, her sister didn’t even know how to turn on her oven, much less mix up a batch of anything and bake it.

“Tracey has her dance class Christmas party tomorrow and I promised Danielle I’d make enough for everybody.

Most of the other mothers are bringing refreshments, too.”

There was total silence while Hannah and Michelle digested that information. Refreshments meant food, and both of them knew that Andrea’s only culinary skill was heating water in the microwave for instant coffee or Jell-O.

“What’s the matter?” Andrea asked, realizing at last that her sisters were perfectly silent.

“We’re wondering what … uh … Whippersnappers are,”

Michelle explained.

“They’re cookies.”

“You baked cookies?! ” both Michelle and Hannah exclaimed in unison.

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Joanne Fluke

“Yes, I did. And they were so easy! Carli Spurr e-mailed me with the recipe. You remember Carli, don’t you? She coached the cheerleading squad.”

“I remember,” Hannah said, her mind flying through dire possibilities. Perhaps, through some miracle, Andrea had managed to mix up and bake several batches of cookies, but they couldn’t possibly be good. Of course she couldn’t say that without hurting her sister’s feelings, and Andrea looked very proud of her accomplishment. It would be kinder to pretend that everything was fine, at least until she found out more.