Cold River - Carla Neggers [42]
Hannah transferred her ice pack to her cheek. “It means what Dominique just said. Everyone’s restless.”
Beth tapped more stars. “And Jo would know something happened at the cemetery because…”
“Sean called Elijah.” Hannah sank onto one of the stools at the worktable. “Cell phone.”
Dominique dumped out chunks of black licorice. “I don’t care for licorice,” she said, then sighed at Hannah. “Will you just tell us what happened?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t want anyone to worry, because it was nothing.”
“If it was nothing,” Beth said, “you wouldn’t be sitting here with an ice pack on your face and my sister would be out at the lake with Elijah.”
“Fair point,” Hannah said, relenting. She told her friends the basics of how she’d ended up with a bruised, scraped cheek and wrist.
Dominique shuddered. “You heard someone whispering your name in a cemetery? I’d have passed out on the spot.”
“I could have been mistaken.”
“Whatever the case,” Beth said, “Jo probably grabbed Scott and maybe a local guy and went to talk to Bowie first. That gives us a few minutes before she swoops in here in federal agent mode.” Beth added more stars to her blue-iced cupcake, then sat back and assessed her handiwork. “What do you think?”
“Pretty,” Hannah said.
“People might not think the stars are edible,” Beth said.
Dominique added a hunk of the black licorice. “There. That looks real. It’ll cue people everything on the cupcake is edible. Hannah?”
She appreciated their obvious but sincere attempt at normalcy. “I like the sparkle, but not everyone likes licorice…including you.”
Dominique sighed. “All right. Next.”
“Do you think my crazy sister will actually marry Elijah?” Beth was teasing, but there was a note of concern in her voice, too. “He can be called back for some secret mission at any time, and she can’t stay up here forever. What would she do? She’ll have to go back to D.C. or get a new assignment, or quit the Secret Service altogether. There’s no guarantee this’ll work now any more than it did when they were teenagers.”
“Jo’s still wearing the ring he gave her,” Dominique reminded her friend.
The same ring he’d bought at nineteen for her. “A sentimental Cameron,” Hannah said, trying to keep her tone light. “Hard to believe one exists.”
“Deep down, all the Camerons are sentimental.” Beth pointed to the middle row of cupcakes. “Buttercream frosting with gold sprinkles—delicious but not special enough.” She lifted a cupcake with white frosting and a bright red number one, for the first day of the new year. “This one. Oh, my. It’s perfect.” She peeled off the paper wrapper. “Absolutely perfect.”
“Hannah?” Dominique asked.
She nodded. “A series of simple, elegant and delicious cupcakes will go over well.”
“All right, then.” Obviously satisfied, Dominique jumped off her high stool. “I’ll do more designs along these lines. Three should do it.”
Beth took another bite of the cupcake. “All the cops and such hanging out here will love some happy cupcakes. We’ll cheer them up yet.”
Dominique untied her apron. “Hannah, why don’t you take some of these sample cupcakes for Devin and Toby? An occasional treat, especially this time of year, is good for the soul.”
Hannah picked up one of the cupcakes, peeled off the wrapper and bit into the rich, sweet cake and icing. She smiled at her friends, despite her fatigue and dread at having to face Jo Harper. “Who needs ice when there are cupcakes?” She reached for two chocolate ones decorated with white buttercream frosting and sprinkles. “I’ll take these. You can both head on out. I’ll be fine on my own with Jo and whoever else turns up.”
“Scott’s working tonight,” Beth said, peeling off her canvas apron. “I promised I’d help Jo clean out one of the cabins. She’s tackling them one by one. I think the work helps her process the investigation—and her life. How about you two?”
Hannah set the two cupcakes on a plate. “The Robinsons invited me to dinner, and if Bowie’s up to it, he’s stopping by to take a look at the water in the cellar—”
“Whoa, whoa.” Beth