Part 7 (2/2)
”I'm here,” Claire's voice floated in through the open transom. ”Do you need me to zip you up?”
”No, I'm fine. I just wondered if you saw anyone in the alley yesterday morning.”
”Just you, Hannah. Bill already asked and I told him the same thing.”
”How about later?” Hannah unzipped her jeans and let them slip down into a denim pile around her ankles.
”I didn't go out again until I heard all the commotion.”
Hannah kicked her jeans over to a spot near to the mirror and pulled off her sweats.h.i.+rt. ”Are you sure? You said you were unpacking a new s.h.i.+pment. Didn't you go out to throw any packing materials in the Dumpster?”
”I don't think...Yes, I did!” Claire sounded surprised. ”You're right, Hannah. I broke down some cartons and carried them out. And there was was someone in the alley. A homeless man was huddled up in the thrift shop doorway, waiting for it to open.” someone in the alley. A homeless man was huddled up in the thrift shop doorway, waiting for it to open.”
”Do you have any idea what time that was?” Hannah asked as she removed the black dress from the hanger.
”I think it was about a quarter to eight. When I got back inside, I pressed a dress and then Becky Summers called to ask if the alterations were finished on her new pantsuit. I glanced at my watch and I remember thinking that only Becky would have the nerve to call me a full two hours before I opened, so it must have been eight.”
”What did this homeless man look like?”
”I'm sure you've seen him around town, Hannah. He's tall and his hair sticks up in spikes. It's this awful red....” Claire paused and she sounded embarra.s.sed when she spoke again. ”It's not like your hair, Hannah. Yours is a lovely auburn color. This man's hair is so red, it's almost orange, like a clown.”
Hannah added that tidbit to her memory banks as she lifted the dress over her head and stuck her arms through the sleeves. She wiggled, the silk slipped down with a slither, and she reached behind her to pull up the zipper by its little tab. The dress fit her perfectly. Claire had a good eye for size.
”Does it fit you, Hannah?” Claire's voice floated in again.
”Like a glove.” Hannah took a deep breath and glanced in the mirror. The stranger that stared back at her looked shocked. Not only did the dress fit-it was stunning on her. And Hannah had never looked stunning before in her life.
”Do you like it?”
It took Hannah a moment to find her voice. ”It's...uh...it's great.”
”Come out and let me see if I need to do any alterations.”
”You don't.” Hannah kicked off her favorite old Nikes. They didn't exactly go with her new image. And then she opened the door and walked out.
Claire's mouth dropped open when she saw her. ”I knew it would be perfect for you, but I had no idea it would turn you into a femme fatale. You have to take it, Hannah. I'll give you a huge discount. This dress was made for you.”
”I think you're right.” There was wonder in Hannah's voice as Claire led her over to the three-way mirror and she studied her reflection. She looked sophisticated, gorgeous, and utterly feminine.
”You want it, don't you, Hannah?”
Hannah turned to the mirror again. If she squinted, the woman who stared back at her looked a little like Katharine Hepburn. Her first instinct was to tell Claire to wrap up the dress, that price was no object, but reality intruded. Price was was an object and she knew it. ”Of course I want it, but I don't know if I can afford it. How much does it cost?” an object and she knew it. ”Of course I want it, but I don't know if I can afford it. How much does it cost?”
”Forget what I said about the discount. I'll give it to you at my cost. Just promise that you won't tell anyone what you paid.”
”Okay,” Hannah promised. ”How much is it?”
”It retails for one-eighty, but you can have it for ninety.”
Hannah didn't hesitate. A dress like this came along only once in a lifetime. ”Sold. I'll never have a chance to wear it and it'll probably hang in my closet for the rest of my life, but you're right. I've got to have it.”
”Good girl!” Claire looked very pleased. ”But what do you mean, you won't have a chance to wear it? The Woodleys' annual party is tomorrow night.”
Hannah blinked. She'd stuck her invitation in a drawer and forgotten all about it. ”Do you think that I should wear this dress?”
”I'll tell everyone that your cookies are lousy if you don't,” Claire threatened. ”You're going to knock them dead tomorrow night, Hannah. And on Sat.u.r.day morning, your phone's going to be ringing off the hook.”
Hannah laughed. Perhaps Claire was psychic and her phone would ring off the hook. But ninety-nine percent of those calls would be from Delores, trying to find out which man she'd been trying to impress.
Hannah stashed the dress box in her Suburban and walked back into the bakery with a bemused expression on her face. She'd certainly spent a lot of money helping Bill investigate Ron's murder. She'd dropped fifty dollars with Luanne for the cosmetics and she'd spent ninety with Claire for the dress.
As she pa.s.sed the work island, the phone on the wall started to ring. Hannah called out to tell Lisa that she'd get it and picked up the receiver. ”The Cookie Jar. This is Hannah.”
”Hi, Hannah.” It was Bill and he sounded discouraged. ”I'm just checking in with you. I'm out here at the dairy doing interviews.”
”Did you learn anything new?”
”Not a thing. Everyone else came in at seven-thirty and Ron had already loaded up and left by then.”
”How about Max Turner? Did you speak to him yet?”
”No. Hold on a second, Hannah.” There was a lengthy pause and then Bill came back on the line. ”Betty still expects him to call in today. I told her to get a number and I'd call him back to tell him about Ron. How about you? Do you have anything for me?”
”Yes, and it could be important. I talked to Claire Rodgers and she remembered that she saw a homeless man in the alley about seven forty-five. He was huddled in the thrift shop doorway and she gave me a description.”
”Let me get out my notebook.” There was another pause and then Bill spoke again. ”Okay. Give it to me.”
”He was wearing baggy clothes and he had bright red hair sticking up in spikes. Claire said she'd seen him around town before.”
”Good work, Hannah.” Bill sounded pleased. ”I'll run over to the soup kitchen at the Bible Church and see if they know who he is. And I'll check with the thrift shop. They might have let him in. Anything else?”
”Maybe, but I'm not sure. Ron went to the dentist for that cracked tooth I told you about, and that was why he was running late. I'll get back to you the minute I know more.”
Hannah hung up the phone and then she picked it up again to punch out her mother's number. She couldn't put Delores off forever. As she listened to the empty ringing, she began to smile. Her mother was out and she left a brief message. ”Hi, it's Hannah. I'm just returning your call. Guess you must be out. I'll see you later at the Regency Romance Club meeting.”
Hannah had just hung up when Lisa stuck her head around the side of the swinging door. ”Your sister's here, Hannah.”
”Send her back here with two mugs of coffee,” Hannah instructed, walking to the counter to pile a half-dozen White Chocolate Supremes on a plate. There weren't many left and she suspected that Lisa's new recipe had been a success. Then she sat down on a stool and wondered what new crisis had brought Andrea to The Cookie Jar for the second day in a row.
”Hi, Hannah,” Andrea greeted her. ”Here's your coffee.” She plunked down the two mugs of coffee, saw the cookies, and grabbed one before she even sat down. ”These new cookies are heavenly. Everybody's raving about them and they're all sold out up front. Lisa gave me the last one while I was waiting for you.”
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