Tracey!”
Lisa laughed, “ You just thought of that?”
“Yes! And Bethie could help her mix the cinnamon, sugar, and cardamom. As long as Grandma McCann sets the oven temperature, they could do it all by themselves.”
“That would be a great birthday present for Andrea,” Lisa said. “You could teach the kids how to do it and they’d have Tortilla Snickerdoodle Cookies waiting for Andrea when she got home from work.”
The phone on the wall rang and Hannah hurried over to answer it. A moment later, she was frowning. “Sure, Mother. I can come over in a few minutes. What’s going on at Granny’s Attic?”
There was a long pause and then Hannah sighed. “Okay. I’ll do my best to calm Carrie down, but you have to tell me what she’s worried about.”
There was another pause while Hannah listened. “All right, Mother. You can tell me when I get there. I’ll bring some cookies. That might help to . . .”
Hannah stopped speaking and looked shocked as she hung up the phone. “Mother hung up on me! She’s never done that before!”
“Never?” Mike asked.
Hannah shook her head. “Never. Mother’s too polite to hang up on anybody, even a telephone solicitor.”
“Then we’d better go over there right now,” Norman said, standing up and heading for the hooks by the back door, where he’d hung his parka.
“I’ll stay here, just in case Ross shows up,” Mike said. “Something must really be wrong over there. Just call if you need me and I’ll come right over.”
Hannah packed up a plateful of Tortilla Snickerdoodle Cookies, grabbed her parka, and headed across the parking lot with Norman. Granny’s Attic, Delores and Carrie’s antique shop, was only one store away. They went in the back door, wound their way around the antiques that were stored in the back room, and came out by the cash register in the middle of the store.
“Hi, Hannah, Norman,” Luanne Hanks, Delores and Carrie’s bookkeeper and assistant, greeted them.
“Hi, Luanne.” Norman gave her a smile.
“Hello, Luanne,” Hannah responded. “Mother called me and asked me to come right over.”
“They’re upstairs in the break room.” Luanne pointed to the staircase in the middle of the room. “Go right up.”
“Do you know what’s wrong? Mother sounded upset when she called me.”
“No. I just know they’re up there and they haven’t come down. Delores must have made the call from her cell phone.”
“I’ll wait down here with Luanne,” Norman told Hannah, and then he turned to Luanne. “Can I help you do anything while I’m waiting for Hannah?”
Luanne began to smile broadly. “You bet you can! I was about to reposition a couple of antiques that are awkward to move alone. Could you help me?”
“Of course,” Norman answered. “I’ll wait for you here, Hannah.”
“I’ll be down in a bit,” Hannah told him, turning and walking toward the central staircase.
The first six stairs went straight up and Hannah climbed them to the landing. A grandfather clock sat against the back wall on the landing and Hannah admired it as she walked across the floor. The remainder of the staircase was set at a ninety-degree angle to the lower stairs. Hannah made a sharp right and climbed the last few steps.
Once she’d reached the second story, Hannah hurried past the other antiques on display. There was a lovely cherrywood bedroom set with a tall chest of drawers and a vanity with an oval-shaped mirror. She admired it as she went past and decided to compliment her mother and Carrie on acquiring such beautiful items. They’d probably tell her that Luanne had found the bedroom set at an estate auction since Luanne now did most of the antique acquisitions. If that was the case, she’d compliment Luanne on her purchase when she went back downstairs.
“Hi, Mother. Hello, Carrie,” Hannah greeted the two women who had been friends for years. “I brought you some Tortilla Snickerdoodle Cookies.”
“I love these!” Delores told Carrie, and they both reached out for a cookie. Delores and Carrie had met at Lake Eden’s Regency Romance Club more than twenty years ago and they had been best friends ever since.
“They’re delicious, as usual,” Delores told her, finishing her first cookie and reaching for a second.
“Yes, they are!” Carrie echoed her business partner’s sentiment. “Thank you for bringing them, Hannah.”
“There’s coffee or tea if you want it, dear.” Delores gestured toward the counter of the break room, where the coffeepot and electric teapot sat.
“I just bought a box of Florence’s best peppermint tea,” Carrie told Hannah. “I know you