“Good. I’d better try on another one. We’re wasting my time, chatting about inconsequential things.”

“Of course,” Claire responded quickly. “Try on the claret-colored pantsuit, Mrs. Bascomb. That color is so lovely on you.”

“Yes. Isn’t it.”

It was a statement, not a question, and Hannah rolled her eyes ceiling-ward. Their mayor’s wife was not shy and demure when compliments were offered.

“Come with me, Claire,” Stephanie commanded. “I’ll need help with those small buttons in the back.”

The door to Stephanie’s dressing room opened with a click. Hannah listened to the sound of two sets of footfalls entering the dressing room. She waited until the door clicked closed again, and then she turned to motion to Michelle. They had the information they needed, and they could sneak out while Stephanie Bascomb was trying on the pantsuit. And then they could dash back to The Cookie Jar to pick up some kind of sweet treat for Danielle, hurry down the street to her dance studio, and find out exactly what time drinks with the first family of Lake Eden had ended on the previous evening.

* * *

When they returned to The Cookie Jar, they found Lisa in the kitchen. “You look like you’re in a hurry,” she said as they rushed in the door.

“We are,” Hannah told her. “Stephanie Bascomb just mentioned that she went out for drinks last night with the mayor. And Del Woodley. And Danielle joined them.”

“Claire asked Stephanie what time that was,” Michelle added, “but Stephanie didn’t remember. My guess is that Stephanie had twee martoonis, or maybe more.”

Hannah laughed. “You got that phrase from Dad, didn’t you?”

“Yes. It used to crack me up when he said it. I always wanted to use it, but the time was never right . . . until now.”

“So rather than go straight to the dance studio, you came back here to get something to take to Danielle,” Lisa guessed. “Is that right?”

Michelle looked impressed. “That’s very good, Lisa. You figured out Hannah’s M.O.”

“Of course I did. I’ve seen her do this before. Hannah always brings something tasty to exchange for information. It’s the barter system. She makes people happy and content, and they tell her exactly what she needs to know. And they don’t even know they’re doing it.”

Hannah began to frown slightly. “You’re right, Lisa. But it doesn’t sound very nice when you put it that way. And . . . actually . . . I’ve never really thought of it that way before.” She stopped and considered it for a moment or two. “It is the barter system. Do you think that what I’m doing is wrong?”

“Not at all!” Lisa responded quickly. “You always bring something when you go somewhere. And there’s nothing wrong with asking for information. After all, you’re trying to catch a murderer.”