Somehow, Hannah managed to maintain her composure on the ride back to Lake Eden. Norman pulled up in front of the Albion Hotel, parked in one of the reserved spots, and came around to open the passenger door for Hannah.
“Come on, Hannah,” he said, taking her hand and helping her out of the car. “I’ll take you up to the penthouse.”
Hannah wanted to thank him, but she seemed to have lost her voice again. All she could do was nod and give his arm a little pat to show that she’d understood what he’d said. They walked through the lobby, past the rolls of new carpeting that would be installed, and headed straight for the elevator on the back wall.
“Come on, Hannah.” Norman took her arm and ushered her inside the elevator. “It’s going to be okay. Just hang on for a few minutes longer and you’ll be with your mother and Michelle.”
There’s a choice? Hannah’s mind prodded her, but of course she didn’t say that. Actually, there was a choice. If she collapsed right now, Norman would have to lift her off the floor of the elevator and carry her into her mother’s penthouse. She had no doubt that Norman could do that if he had to, but she knew she could manage to maintain on her own.
“I’m okay,” she said, even though okay was not an accurate description of the way she felt. Shaky would have described the way her legs felt as they began to ascend to the penthouse floor. And faint would have been the word to explain the buzzing that was filling her head with noise. Light-headed would have explained why she felt like gripping Norman’s arm to keep her balance, and frightening would have explained the phenomenon that made the elevator walls seem to close in and then recede.
“Are you with me?” Norman asked her.
Of course I’m with you. I’m right here in an elevator with you, Hannah’s rational mind replied. But Hannah said, “I’m just hunky-dory,” hoping he would appreciate her attempt at humor.
“Don’t, Hannah,” Norman said sympathetically, putting his arm around her shoulders and giving her a comforting squeeze. “I know it’s hard, but we’re almost here and then your family will help.”
Hannah thought about that for a moment and then she nodded. “Yes. They will.”
“I’ll stay with you, too,” Norman offered, “if you want me to.”
Is this a trap? her suspicious mind asked her. Will Norman expect more than you’re able to give him if you tell him you want him to stay?
Don’t be ridiculous, the rational part of her mind countered. Norman just wants to help and he’s not quite sure what to do.
As the elevator doors opened on the penthouse floor, Hannah reached a decision. She’d tell the truth. It was always the best way. And she turned to Norman and said, “Yes, please. I want you to stay with me, Norman.”
He took Hannah’s arm and shepherded her down the hallway to the penthouse door. Then he half-supported her as he rang the doorbell.
“Hannah!” Delores said, opening the door almost immediately. “Oh, honey! Come in. Let me help you.”
“Mom!” Hannah said, swallowing hard and trying to maintain her composure. But trying to be calm and act as if her heart wasn’t breaking was impossible. Tears welled up in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. And she sobbed as she felt her mother’s arms close around her. “Oh, Mommy! He’s dead!”
“I know, honey.” Delores held her tightly. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
It took Hannah a moment to realize what her mother had said. “Why are you thanking me?”
“Because you haven’t called me mommy since you were three years old. Oh, honey. You have no idea how much that means to me.”
And then Delores and Norman half-carried her through the living room and out into the penthouse garden, where they helped to seat her on a chaise longue.
“Here’s Moishe,” Delores said as Moishe spotted Hannah and ran toward her.
“Rrroow!” Moishe yowled a greeting as he jumped up into her lap. He crawled up her body to lick her face, and she laughed through her tears and reached down to pet him. “It’s okay, Moishe,” she told him. And surprisingly, it was okay. Here they were, nestled in the bosom of her family, surrounded by the people that loved her. Hannah felt the weight of shock and grief lighten and she drew a relieved breath. The weight was still there but wasn’t as heavy as it had been.
Moishe purred as she stroked his soft fur and Hannah knew that he was putting the trauma of hiding outside in the dark behind him. He was safe here in her lap, surrounded by Delores, and Michelle, and Andrea, and Norman. And that was when Hannah realized that she was safe too, and she managed a shaky smile.
“Thank you,” she said to all of them. “I’m so glad I’m here with you.”
Chapter Twenty-two
When Hannah woke up in the morning, the sun was in the wrong place. For one brief moment she thought she’d slept all morning and it was late afternoon. But then she realized that the sun wasn’t the only thing out of place. The dresser wasn’t against the right wall next to the door. The closet wasn’t on her right, and the mirrors had been replaced with wooden doors. And the bed was king-size rather than queen-size. And that was when she finally realized that she was not at home in her own condo.
Reality swam in, doing a rapid Australian crawl, and even though she fought to stop its advance before it got to the bad part, the memories of the previous night rushed back. Ross on the bed, covered in blood and almost unrecognizable. Splatters of his lifeblood on the wall and the carpet that Andrea had chosen for their condo. She was in her mother and Doc’s penthouse, and the guest bedroom began to spin around her in dizzying circles.
You’re stronger than that. Get over it, her rational mind told her. And when she opened her eyes, the bedroom was stationary once again.
Oh, how she wanted to stay right where she was now, safe in her mother’s guest room, not thinking and not feeling! You can’t do that, her rational mind reminded her. You have work to do and only you can do it.
Hannah sat up and shoved her feet into her slippers. Her mission, her obligation, was clear. It was her duty to discover the identity of Ross’s killer, learn why he’d been murdered in the condo they’d shared for such a brief time, and make sure that the killer was punished for the awful crime that had been committed. She had to make sure that justice was done.
Even though her tired body clamored for more rest, Hannah rose to her feet. She turned to look at the pillow next to hers and felt grateful as she saw that Moishe was sleeping there. He was a comfort and he loved her unconditionally. If only Ross could have been that way!
Don’t think, just do, her rational mind told her, and Hannah shrugged into her chenille robe, the one her mother hated because it was so old and so worn. How had her robe gotten here? She pondered that question as she walked to the adjoining bathroom to take her morning shower.
Her question was answered when she came out of the shower. There was a note propped up on her dresser and it was in Michelle’s handwriting. Sleep in this morning, Hannah. You don’t have to go to work. Aunt Nancy, Lisa, and I have everything covered at The Cookie Jar.
Hannah’s lips curved up in a small smile. And then she noticed the open suitcase on the bench at the foot of the bed. Clean clothes, but how had they gotten to her mother’s penthouse?
These were in the dryer, another note read. It was propped up on top of a pair of Hannah’s clean jeans and Hannah didn’t need a signature to know that this was more of her thoughtful youngest sister’s work. Michelle must have gone back to the condo last night to collect clean clothes for her. And since the master bedroom was probably taped off as a crime scene, Michelle had been resourceful enough to check the dryer in the laundry room and discover the clothes Hannah hadn’t taken out before they’d left for work.
Several minutes later, Hannah was dressed in clean clothes. She opened the bedroom door, stepped out into the carpeted hallway, and realized that there was a delicious smell in the air.