“R. Barton, yes,” the deliveryman confirmed, turning the device around and pointing to a box that had appeared on the screen. “Sign here, please.”
Hannah took the stylus he handed her and signed, remembering to use her married name, Hannah Barton.
“Barton?” the man questioned her. “This package is addressed to Hannah Swensen.”
Hannah laughed. “That’s me. And Ross Barton is my husband. We were married less than two weeks ago and I guess he forgot to use Barton when he filled out the paperwork!”
The deliveryman laughed. “It happens to the best of us. When my wife and I went on our honeymoon, I checked her in under her maiden name when I registered at the hotel. She still laughs about that.”
Hannah accepted the package he handed her, thanked him for delivering it, and carried it inside. The package wasn’t that large and she was surprised. “My package is here,” she said to Mike.
“I see that. Do you want me to open it for you?”
“Yes, please. I’ll get your coffee while you’re opening it.”
When Hannah came back from the kitchen, Mike had the package open and was holding a note. “Thanks, Hannah,” he said, accepting the coffee with one hand and handing her the note with the other. “This must be for you, Hannah. It was right on top.”
Hannah glanced down at the note.
It read, Here you go, Cookie. You can watch it on our big screen if you want to.
“That’s for you, right?” Mike asked her.
“Yes.”
“He calls you Cookie?”
Hannah nodded. “Ross started that in college. I took Ross and Linda cookies when they moved into my apartment building and he’s called me that ever since.”
“Appropriate. Do you want to watch this?” Mike pointed to the DVD cases in the package.
“Yes, but first . . .” Hannah stopped in mid-sentence, wondering if what she’d been about to ask was inappropriate.
“But what?”
“Uh . . . I didn’t get a chance to take a shower this morning because I got up too late and I was afraid I wouldn’t hear the doorbell in the shower. Would you mind if I took a quick one right now?”
“I don’t mind. I know where the coffeepot is if I need a refill. Go for it, Hannah. And take your time. I’ll be right here.”
“Thanks, Mike. If you’re hungry, help yourself to the pumpkin scones on the wire rack in the kitchen. There’s soft butter in the dish on the kitchen table.”
“Sounds good. I’ll do that.”
Hannah came close to regretting her offer as she hurried back to the master bedroom. She’d told Mike to help himself to the scones and she hoped he wouldn’t eat them all. As she closed the door, she thought about racing back to the kitchen to put some scones away, but she decided that wouldn’t be very hospitable. Instead, she immediately headed for the shower. If she hurried, perhaps there would be some scones left on the rack when she came back.
Fifteen minutes later, Hannah came out of the shower, feeling that all was right with her world. Her back no longer hurt, the kinks were gone from her neck, and she felt better than she had all week. She towel-dried her hair, dressed quickly, and was back in the living room in time to see Mike slipping the first disk into the DVD player.
“Those scones are great!” he said. “Did you make them?”
Hannah shook her head. “Michelle did. She was thinking of selling them Thanksgiving week at the coffee shop.”
“Why not? I think everybody would like them. And it’ll remind them to order one of your pumpkin pies for Thanksgiving dinner.”
“I didn’t think of that! You could be right, though.” Hannah went into the kitchen, poured herself another cup of coffee, and glanced at the wire rack. There were a few scones left, thank goodness! She carried her coffee back to the living room, and found Mike waiting for her on the couch. “Do you want to watch this now?”
“Yes. Ross is working on a retrospective of Tori’s life on the stage and he sent some footage to me. Would you like to stay and watch it with me?”
“Yeah. Maybe I’ll learn something about Tori Bascomb that I don’t know.” Mike cleared his throat. “And speaking of Tori Bascomb, how is your investigation coming along?”
“You asked me that yesterday, Mike.”
“I know. I just thought you might have discovered a new clue.”
“I wish I had, but I didn’t,” Hannah said quite honestly. “I’m stumped, Mike.”
“Join the club. We’ve followed every lead and we’ve gotten exactly nowhere. The one thing I do know is that her killer was probably someone she knew.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Tori opened the door. And there’s a peephole.” Mike gave a little laugh. “Unless, of course, she was like you and forgot to look through the peephole.”
Hannah sighed. Mike was right. She did forget.
“I’ll have to talk to Ross about that, and impress on him how important it is to get you to use that peephole. It’s there for a reason, Hannah.”
“I know. I just forget, that’s all.”
“And that’s exactly why you have to develop the habit. Even if you are sure that you know who it is, look first and then open the door.”
“Okay. You’re right,” Hannah conceded. “Let’s watch the footage, Mike. I want to see what Ross has been filming.”
As Hannah watched the footage and discovered the path that Tori’s acting career had taken, she was amazed at the number of Broadway performances that the mayor’s sister had given. Tori had been multi-talented. She was an accomplished singer, dancer, comedian, and actress. She’d even had a one-woman show at one point in her career.
Ross had interviewed a number of Broadway actors and actresses who had known and worked with Tori and they had all agreed that she was highly talented and had performed her roles to perfection. But not one of them had said anything about her personally, and no one had said that she was a friend.
“Did you catch the fact that all those co-workers admired her, yet no one said they liked her?” Mike asked as he ejected the first disk and put in the second.