“The man with the black tennis shoes?” Michelle asked, catching Hannah’s cryptic meaning immediately.
“Yes. Norman locked the door behind us after he picked the lock. And that means the intruder must have had a key. Norman agreed that it was either a key or the man knew how to pick locks, but I really doubt that the man had professional tools like Norman brought. The man must have had a key.”
“You’re right. Do you think he might be the killer?”
Hannah shook her head. “I really don’t think so. He just didn’t seem like the type. He was too broken up over Tori’s death and he sounded more sad than mad when he found the letter in Tori’s bed table.”
“A former lover?”
“Perhaps. I just don’t know, Michelle. I know he fits in the picture somehow, but I’ll have to identify him to find out exactly where he fits.”
“You unlock the door and I’ll catch Moishe,” Michelle offered. “And right after we get inside, I want you to go straight to your bedroom and change into something comfortable. Then come back out here to the couch. You’ve been working all day and you’re tired and depressed. A cup of hot chocolate will pick up your spirits and then you’ll be able to sleep tonight.”
“Yes, Mother,” Hannah said, only half joking as she unlocked the door and opened it to release the orange and white ball of fur that hurtled into Michelle’s arms by way of greeting. For the umpteenth time today, she was grateful that Michelle was staying with her. She was so tired, she probably would have fallen over if she’d tried to catch Moishe herself.
Ten minutes later, after a hot shower, Hannah reappeared in the living room and joined Michelle on one of the new sofas. She picked up her cup of hot chocolate, took a sip, and smiled at her sister. “Thank you for being here, Michelle.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I was just thinking about how lonely I’d be with Ross in New. . . .” She stopped and gasped, suddenly remembering what Doc had said about how refusals were more difficult if you spoke to people face to face.
“What is it?” Michelle asked her.
“Ross is in New York! Do you think I should ask him if he could do a little legwork for me?”
“Of course you should ask him! You know Ross loves to help you investigate.”
“Do you think it’s too late to call him?”
Michelle glanced at her watch. “It’s ten o’clock here and that means it’s eleven in New York. Is Ross a late night person?”
Hannah thought back to their honeymoon. “He’s probably still awake.”
“Then call him. Use your cell phone so he’ll know who it is and then put it in the charger. You keep leaving it on the table overnight and forgetting to charge it.”
“Yes, Mother,” Hannah said for the second time in less than an hour. “I’ll call Ross right now.”
*
Fifteen minutes later, Hannah ended the call with the phrase they’d promised to use every night before they went to sleep. “I love you too, Ross.”
Michelle, who’d been busy in the kitchen during Hannah’s call, walked back into the living room carrying two dessert plates.
“What’s this?” Hannah asked her.
“Half of a piece of Sally’s Peanut Butter Cheesecake with Chocolate Sauce. I was going to save it for our breakfast, but I wanted you to have sweet dreams.”
Hannah laughed. “Sweet dreams,” she repeated. “I get it. I was wondering what was in the bag you carried upstairs.”
“From the look on your face as I walked through the living room to go to the kitchen, I figured you might want to celebrate. I’m guessing that Ross agreed to help you with the business management firm?”
“He did. And he told me he was almost positive that he could get the name of Tori’s business manager for me.”
“Then he probably can. Try the cheesecake, Hannah. It’s really good.”
Hannah took a bite of her cheesecake and smiled in pure enjoyment. “Wonderful! I’ll get the recipe for this cheesecake from Sally tomorrow. If Ross is successful about getting the money man’s name for us, we can serve it to him when he comes back home.”
“How about if he’s not successful?”
Hannah thought about that for a second or two and then she laughed. “We’ll serve it anyway. This is so good, I want another piece!”
Chapter Eighteen
It had to be Georgia, because she was up on a ladder that was leaning against a peach tree, reaching for a perfectly beautiful peach that was above her head, but just out of her reach. Of course they had peach trees in many states other than Georgia, but Hannah was almost certain that Georgia was where they must be.
“Can you reach it?” Ross asked her, and Hannah looked down to smile at him. Ross was with her and he was steadying the ladder so that she wouldn’t fall.
“I can almost reach it,” she replied, climbing up another step.
But the elusive peach, the most beautifully ripe peach she’d ever seen, was just out of her grasp.
“I can’t reach it,” she told him, feeling small and inadequate. “I’m sorry, Ross, but I can’t do it.”
“Sure you can. Stand on the top of the ladder.”
“But . . . you’re not supposed to climb up higher than the top step. There’s a warning right on the ladder.”
Ross laughed. “There’s a warning on everything, Cookie. It’s true you’re not supposed to stand on the very top, but that’s when you’re all alone. I’m here and I’m holding the ladder for you.”
“But what if I fall?”
“Then I’ll let go of the ladder and catch you. I’d never let you get hurt, Cookie. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Hannah took a deep breath and stepped up on the top of the ladder. It wobbled a bit, but she steadied herself against the tree trunk and tried to grab the peach, but it was still impossible to grasp. Her fingertips brushed the bottom of the perfectly formed fruit, but she wasn’t quite high enough to curl her fingers around it to pick it.
“Stand on tiptoe,” Ross advised. “That should do it.”
Hannah tried to do as he asked, rising up on her toes and stretching as far as she could. But the beautiful, prized peach was still just slightly out of her reach.