“Good. What can I do?”

Hannah thought fast. What could Lisa do? And that was when a radical idea occurred to Hannah. “Tell the story of how I hit him.”

“What?!”

“Tell it. The more people who hear it, the more buzz there’ll be about it. You saw the man. Describe him. Describe his clothing and once you see the photo Norman took of the ring and the diamond in his tooth, describe those, too. Make it exciting and scary, and we’re bound to get a crowd. If it’s really exciting, everyone will repeat it.”

“But are you sure you want me to talk about . . . killing him?”

“Yes. I’m already in trouble and we might as well take advantage of it. People will talk. They always do. And there’s bound to be someone who knows who he is. We just don’t know who that someone is yet. If the word gets around, whoever it is may come forward.”

“Okay . . . if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

“All right then. I’d better get back and start baking cookies. I’ll rehearse tonight and begin telling the story tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow’s Sunday, Lisa.”

“I know, but we can still open the shop. I’ll ask your mother to activate the gossip hotline and we’ll do a special cookie sale, maybe a two-fer on Fresh Blackberry Cookies. That’ll draw customers in.”

“Fresh Blackberry Cookies? We don’t make those, do we?”

“We do now. Winnie gave me the recipe. That’s how she uses up the extra blackberries she doesn’t bake in her pies. She told me they freeze really well and everybody loves them. If they’re as good as she says they are, they’re going to go like hotcakes. By the time you get out of here on Monday morning, almost everybody in town will know what happened. Maybe we’ll even know who the man was by then.”

“I hope so,” Hannah said, but the car on her emotional roller coaster was starting down the slope again. What if no one knew? Would they ever know what her victim had been doing by the side of the road and why he’d come to Lake Eden?

WINNIE’S FRESH BLACKBERRY PIE (“Blackbeard Pie”)