Hannah was surprised. “You have room for us in there?” she asked, gesturing toward the crowded interior of the restaurant.
“Of course we do. I’ll take you in the back way so that people won’t stop you and ask questions. Dad always saves one private table in the back, just in case someone really important comes in. And you two are the most important people in Lake Eden right now. Both of you are celebrities.”
Hannah was puzzled as they followed Nona to a table. Were they celebrities because they’d done so well in the Food Channel competition? Or were they celebrities because Michelle had found another victim? Her inquiring mind wanted to know, but her cautious mind told her to leave well enough alone. It didn’t really matter at the moment. Right now she was more concerned about drinking coffee and eating a great breakfast.
Nona led them to a secluded table shielded by an island of planters filled with large green plants that Hannah didn’t recognize. “What kind of plants are those?” she asked Nona, pointing toward the lush, broad-leafed greenery.
“Plastic plants,” Nona said with a perfectly deadpan expression.
Hannah and Michelle exchanged glances and then both of them burst into laughter.
“Dad was right,” Nona said with a grin. “It gets to everyone the first time they hear it. I think they’re supposed to be some kind of tropical thing that’s really exotic and doesn’t grow in Minnesota, but they are pretty special. If they get dirty, we just pull them out of the planter and put them in the industrial dishwasher. They come out as clean as a whistle and Dad just sticks them right back in the planter again.”
“That sounds like the sort of plant I should have,” Hannah said. “Lisa says that instead of a green thumb, I have the thumb of death when it comes to indoor plants.”
“It’s true,” Michelle spoke up. “When I come to stay with Hannah, there’s a dead philodendron on the ledge of the guest room window.”
“That’s not entirely true, Michelle,” Hannah corrected her. “A couple of times, they’ve been dead African violets.”
Nona was laughing as she walked back to her hostess station. Michelle waited until she was out of earshot and then she leaned toward Hannah. “I think I’d better call Lisa at The Cookie Jar and tell her to get ready for a big crowd. From what Nona said, everybody’s going to want to know what happened when I found the body.”
“You’ll have to tell her about it so she can make up her story.”
“Been there, done that. I called her this morning when you were getting dressed. Lisa’s ready with the story, but she may not be ready for the size of the crowd.”
After Lisa had been warned, and they’d ordered from the waitress, Hannah and Michelle took a moment to relax and look around the room. It was an oasis, peaceful and calm. But it seemed like only seconds had gone by, when their waitress came bustling back with their breakfast.
“That looks wonderful,” Hannah said as their smiling waitress set her omelet down on the table in front of her.
“Our omelets are the best,” the waitress told her, delivering Michelle’s plate. “Your side of crispy bacon is coming right up, and I’ll bring more coffee out in a bit. Is there anything else I can get for you right now?”
“No thanks. I think we’re all set,” Hannah told her.
“I guess I’m wrong,” Michelle said when the waitress had gone back to the kitchen to get their bacon.
“About what?”
“About that local celebrity thing. I don’t think she recognized you.”
“That’s a relief in a way. At least I don’t have to wear a smile when I don’t feel like smiling, I don’t have to put on gobs of makeup and have my hair done every day, and I don’t have to think about everything I say before I say it just in case someone quotes me. I don’t know how real celebrities handle being in the spotlight all the time. There’s always someone taking photos and asking them for autographs. I’m just glad no one asks me to pose for pictures or sign anything.”
“But you’re going to sign the check, aren’t you?” Michelle asked.
Hannah burst into laughter. “I would, but I brought cash.”
That made Michelle laugh, too, and that was when the waitress came bustling back with their bacon. “Here you go,” she said, setting the plate of bacon in the center of the table, and then refilling their coffee cups. “I really hate to disturb you at breakfast, but my mother made me promise that I’d get a photo with you two if you ever came in here for breakfast. And . . . she was kind of hoping for an autograph.”
Hannah exchanged glances with Michelle, and she smiled her best smile. “If you can catch one of the other waitresses to take the photo, you can be in the picture, too.”