worked for Connie Mac, and this was her best shot.
'I'm sorry, we're closed,' the woman said, raising her voice so that they could hear her. 'Come back on Monday for our grand opening.'
'I have a question about the china in the window,' Hannah told her, moving right up to the glass.
'Just a moment,' the woman answered, turning the lock on the door. She opened it and smiled what Hannah knew was her very best never-lose-a-customer smile.
'We need to buy a wedding present and we're looking for a complete dinner service for twelve. We'll need china, silver, glassware, linens. . . everything, really.'
The woman's smile warmed considerably. 'I really shouldn't do this since we're not officially open for business, but come in and take a look. I'm Rhea Robinson, and I manage the Connie Mac's Kitchen Boutique chain.'
'This is really nice of you.' Hannah matched Rhea's brilliant smile. 'Our best friend's wedding is next Saturday and we have to find the perfect gift.'
'I'm sure you'll find everything you need right here. We have a very extensive selection. I can't actually sell you anything today, but you could pre-choose and come back on Monday. We're giving a fifteen-percent discount to our customers on opening day.'
'That's perfect,' Hannah said, turning to Andrea. 'What do you think of that china in the window?'
Andrea looked startled for a moment. Then she said, 'I think she'd really love it.'
'How about the glassware?'
'This is beautiful,' Andrea said, heading over to a table with some cut-glass crystal goblets. 'We should get two water pitchers, one for each end of the table.'
'It's Baccarat and it's very expensive,' Rhea warned them.
'Price is no object,' Andrea told her. 'We want to give her the best wedding present that money can buy. How about flatware? You'll have to advise me. I know next to nothing about silver.'
Rhea's eyes began to sparkle, and Hannah knew that she was hooked. Now all Hannah had to do was figure out how to ask questions about Connie Mac.
'We have some exquisite gold-plated flatware. It was very popular in the forties and it's come back into fashion. It's the very top of our line, and to make it even more special, it's Connie Mac's original design.'
This was just the opening she'd been hoping for, and Hannah did her best to look worried. 'I just thought of something. We were listening to the radio on the way out here and we heard that Connie Mac was. . . er . . .'
'Deceased?' Rhea supplied the word. 'That's right. It's such a tragedy. And when you mentioned that the gold-plated silverware was her design, that made me worry.'
'Worry?'
'Yes. What if our friend wants to buy more pieces, or replace something her staff might break? With Connie Mac dead, these stores could go out of business. We might be better off going to an older, more established place. I'm sure there are others out here at the mall.'
'No, there aren't,' Rhea said, stepping closer. 'Connie Mac refused to sign a lease in any mall that had competing stores. She wanted to keep her image exclusive, and her boutiques are all one of a kind.'
'I can understand that,' Andrea agreed. 'She was one of a kind. But now that she's gone, will her boutiques survive?'
'Of course. We have excellent financing, and our boutiques are very popular. And while it's true that Connie Mac did some product design, we plan to keep on producing unique products with her name. Perhaps I shouldn't say this, but other than the occasional personal appearance, Connie Mac was never actively involved with the boutiques. It's a separate division of Connie Mac Enterprises, and her husband has been in charge since the day we opened our first store.'
Hannah said with a smile. 'You'll see us back here on Monday, then.'
After Rhea had escorted them out and locked the door behind them, Andrea turned to Hannah. 'What did we learn?'
'I'm not sure, but I'll write it all down as soon as we get back out to the truck.'
'Why don't you do it right now while it's still fresh in your mind?' Andrea pointed to a bench under a potted tree. 'And while you're writing, I'll dash in and look for some shoes to go with the dress I bought last week. It shouldn't take more than five minutes.'
'Good try, but no dice,' Hannah said, grabbing her sister's arm and piloting her to the escalator. Andrea's five minutes would turn into an hour, and she wanted to get out to the dogsled race to tell Norman that he was a suspect.
'There's Norman,' Andrea said, pointing toward the finish line, where three judges were gathered in a tight group.
'And he's got his camera.' Hannah grinned as she spotted it hanging around his neck. 'I guess he's hoping for a photo finish.'
The two sisters crunched across the snowy clearing and made their way toward the finish line. They had to stop several times to exchange greetings with the bystanders they knew, and it was slow going. By the time they had navigated the crowd that surrounded the final quarter mile of the course, they'd learned that there 'were only five teams entered because Charlie Jessup had been disqualified for sled runners that were too wide, Eleanor Cox had hand-sewn leather booties for her husband's dogs, Jerry Larson had dropped out only a mile into the race when he'd upended and lost his earmuffs, and Sam Pietre's sled was sporting a schnapps-bottle holder that he'd designed in his metal shop last night.
'Go ahead,' Andrea said, spotting Eleanor Cox in the crowd. 'I want to ask Eleanor if she really made those booties. You'd better get a move on, though. I can hear the dogs.'
Hannah could hear the barking in the distance, and she figured the two-legged contestants with their four- legged transportation were about a mile and a half away. 'Okay. I'll pick you up on my way back.'
The air was crisp and cold, and Hannah shivered slightly as she ducked under the rope at the side of the course and stepped knee-deep in a snowdrift. She'd have to change jeans, but that wouldn't be a problem. She always kept a change of clothes in the back of her cookie truck.
A wooden platform six feet high had been built at the side of the finish line. Two of the three judges had climbed to the top with binoculars, but Norman was underneath with his camera.
'Norman?' Hannah called out as she approached. Norman turned and a smile spread over his face. Hannah couldn't see it under the ski mask that covered his face, but she could tell he was smiling by the way his eyes crinkled when he spotted her.
'Hi, Hannah. Did you come to see the race?'
'No, I came to see you.'
'You did?' Norman's eyes crinkled even more, and Hannah hated to disillusion him. On the other hand, he had to be told. 'I came to warn you that you're a suspect in the murder case.'
'What?'
Now Norman's eyes were big and startled, and Hannah mentally kicked herself. She'd given him the news with all the subtlety of a bulldozer. 'Sorry, Norman. I should have said that better. Bill doesn't suspect you. It's just Mike.'
'Oh,' Norman said, and his eyes looked normal again. 'I guess I shouldn't have lipped off to him this morning. Okay, Hannah. Thanks for coming all the way out here to tell me.'
'Then you're not worried?'
'Not really. Once Mike cools off and thinks about it, he'll know I didn't do it.'
'Maybe,' Hannah said, trying not to sound too doubtful, 'but I think you'd better come up with an alibi. Let's sit together at the banquet tonight and talk about it.'
'I'd like that, but I'm not going to the banquet. I have to develop the portraits I'm taking this afternoon and I won't have time. Could we get together later?'
'Sure. I should be home by ten. Why don't you come by my place and I'll buy you a cookie?'
'Sounds good. I'll be there.'
Norman's eyes crinkled again and Hannah was glad. At least he wasn't too worried to smile.
'Are you going to stick around for the finish? They should be here soon.'
'Sure. I'll make a dash for the sidelines.'
