Once a second handful of chocolate had been consumed, Hannah picked up her purse and headed for the door. It was time to go. Perhaps the chocolate would start to work on her drive to the Lake Eden Inn.
The air outside was crisp and it was scented with a mixture of pine and something vaguely flowery. It puzzled Hannah for a moment, and she paused at the landing on the outside staircase to try to identify it. She’d smelled this particular scent before, usually in the late afternoon. It was coming from the direction of the condo directly below hers, and this was the time that Sue Plotnik usually did her laundry.
“Dryer sheets!” Hannah exclaimed, identifying the scent. One glance at her neighbor’s window, as she hurried down the staircase and passed by, told Hannah that she was right. The light was on in Sue’s laundry room.
Hannah was smiling as she raced down the concrete steps to the underground garage and hurried to her cookie truck. She was right about the dryer sheets, this was her wedding day, and she was marrying the man she loved. Could anything be more perfect than that?
She drove out of the garage, out of her condo complex, and down the access road to the highway. There was very little traffic on the roads, and Hannah felt her spirits soar as the miles clicked by on her odometer. It was a picture-perfect evening, warmer than anyone had the right to expect in late October in Minnesota, and the stars were just beginning to emerge in a darkening sky. There were no clouds. The starry night would be perfect. It made her wish for a skylight in her bedroom so that she could watch the stars with Ross and Moishe, but the attic that ran the length of the building made that dream impossible. That didn’t matter in the giant scheme of things. All the rest of her dreams would come true tonight. And she could always go out on her tiny second-floor balcony, or stand on the landing by her door to watch the stars.
It didn’t take long to get to the Lake Eden Inn, and by the time she got there, she knew the red wine she wanted. It was the very same Cabernet Sauvignon that Chef Duquesne had been drinking in the kitchen on the night he’d been killed. Thank goodness she wasn’t superstitious, or ordering the same wine for the bridal table might have bothered her. Instead, it was quite the opposite. Chef Duquesne had been touted for his knowledge of vintage red wines in several magazines devoted to spirits. Any wine he’d chosen would have been the very best Dick and Sally had to offer.
Hannah pulled up in front of the Lake Eden Inn and found that the parking gods had smiled on her. There was a vacant spot just to the left of the door. She pulled in, shut off her cookie truck, locked it, and headed inside.
“Hi, Miss Swensen. What are you doing here?” the college student who manned the desk asked. “The wedding’s still on, isn’t it?”
Hannah laughed. “Yes, it’s still on. I just made a quick trip out here to talk to Dick or Sally.”
“Sally’s upstairs getting ready for your wedding, but Dick’s in the bar.” The student paused and then he said, “Your hair looks nice.”
Hannah’s first instinct was to ask him if it usually didn’t look nice, but she quickly squelched that impulse. “Thank you,” she said, following her mother’s advice for dealing with compliments and heading across the lobby in the direction of the bar.
The large room was crowded, but there was a stool at the bar and Hannah took it. There were two women she didn’t know on either side of her and she presumed that they were new guests at the hotel. Some of the Food Channel guests had already left, and only the contestants, the judges, and the members of the film crew were staying on for another night. Everyone would leave the following morning, and Sally and Dick were hosting a convention at the new convention wing they’d built in a separate addition attached to the side of the existing hotel.
“Are you here for the Pretty Girl convention?” the lady on Hannah’s left asked. She was a middle-aged woman who was dressed to look younger and she had bright pink streaks of color in her blond hair.
“Actually . . . no. I’m a local from Lake Eden. I just came out here to talk to the owners.”
“Dick? The guy behind the bar?” the lady on Hannah’s right asked. She was a tall, thin brunette who should not have been wearing the low-cut, tight-fitting top that she’d chosen for the evening. “He told us he was the owner.”
“He is,” Hannah said.
Just then Dick came over and did a double-take when he saw Hannah. “What are you doing here?”
“I came out to talk to you or Sally. And the college student at the desk told me that Sally was upstairs getting ready for the wedding, so I came in here to find you.”
“That’s right. What can I do for you, Hannah?”
Before Hannah could answer, the lady on her left spoke up. “Hannah? I knew I recognized you from somewhere! You won the Food Channel Dessert Chef Competition!”