"Not tonight, but I'm baking it tomorrow. I'll make an extra cake, just for you."

"For me and not for your boyfriend?" Gus glanced across the table at Jack.

"Jack isn't exactly my boyfriend, although I love him a lot. I always have and I always will." Marge shot Gus a level look and took a deep breath. Hannah suspected that she was debating the wisdom of saying more. "And speaking of love," Marge went on, "how could you leave Lake Eden in the middle of the night without saying anything to any of us?"

Gus reared back as if he'd been hit buy a salvo of enemy arrows. "I didn't do it on purpose, Marge. It was just that I had to go then. I don't have to explain myself to you or to anyone else."

"No, you don't," Patsy chimed in. "But you should have. It's too late for the people who loved you the most. Our parents are dead now. They deserved an explanation, or at least a good-bye before you left."

"They never stopped believing that you'd come home," Marge added. "And you never even wrote, or called, or anything. We saw their hearts break, and we want to know why."

Hannah's head swiveled to Gus. He looked horribly uncomfortable. For a split second she almost felt sorry for him, but what Marge and Patsy had said was true. Gus hadn't bothered to call, or write, or contact his parents in any way. And now it was too late.

Gus was silent for a moment. And then he leaned forward. "I couldn't," he said. "I had to prove myself first. And that didn't happen until a couple of years ago."

Hannah began to frown. Gus had been bragging about his nightclub business when she'd joined Marge in the booth. "But you said you were successful once your flagship, Mood Indigo, got off the ground. You also said that you paid off the money you borrowed to start it over twenty years ago. You could have come back then. Your parents were still alive."

Gus turned to her, and Hannah fought to the urge to shrink back. He didn't look happy that she'd caught him in an inconsistency.

"What is this? The inquisition?" He gave Hannah a look intended to warn her off. "I didn't want to put the cart before the horse. There's no way I wanted to contact Mother and say I was a successful businessman and then fail in my plans for expansion."

"Expansion?" Mac leaned closer. "You have more than one nightclub now?"

"You bet. I've got four, and I'm thinking about expanding again. Atlantic City is a great place to own a nightclub, and they're popping up all over."

Mac leaned slightly closer to Gus. "You must be pulling in a good profit to think about opening another one."

"Oh, I am. You don't expand unless you've got the money to do it. That's what I meant about putting the cart before the horse. It always takes a while to get a new club going."

"The construction of the building?" Mac guessed.

"That and the fact you have to get the customers in and then keep them coming back. You definitely have to set aside a big budget for advertising."

"I like the name Mood Indigo," Marge said, and Hannah noticed that she squeezed Jack's hand. "Do all the others have a blue theme?"

Gus looked relieved now that they'd switched to a less personal subject, and he favored his sister with a smile. "It's clever of you to realize that. We play mainly blues in the clubs. And the decor in each club is a different shade of blue. There's Mood Indigo, you already know about that. And then there's the Aqua Room, Sky Blue Heaven, and Midnight Stars. I got that idea from the map of the heavens I used to have on my ceiling. It's one of the reasons I wanted to go through that trunk from my old bedroom. I thought I might come up with another name for a nightclub."

"True Blue," Jack offered. "Except that it wouldn't fit. You've never been true to anyone in your life."

"And you've never minded picking up the leftovers," Gus shot back.

There was a moment of silence when everyone just held collective breaths. Hannah wondered if they would sit there forever, just wanting for that second shoe to drop. She hated to think of what might happen if it did. Jack was glaring at Gus. And Gus was glaring at Jack. This could be very awkward, especially since she was seated next to Gus.

"Excuse me," Hannah said. And the tension eased as everyone turned to look at her. "I think I'll check my cake platter to see if I need to cut more. Does anyone else want more dessert?"

"I do!" Marge seized the opportunity.

"Me, too," Patsy said, giving Mac a little nudge. "Come on. Slide out and let's get some more of Hannah's Special Carrot Cake."

Marge grabbed Jack's arm and almost pushed him out of booth. "Let's go, Jack. I need some more coffee."

Jack slid out of the booth and held out a hand to Marge. Then he turned to give Gus a final glare. "I'm out of here. And it's not a minute too soon."

And then they were gone, Jack, Marge, Patsy, and Mac. And that left Hannah alone in the booth with Gus.

"You're leaving, too?" Gus asked in a tone she couldn't quite read.

"Well...I should probably cut the last cake and refill the platter," Hannah hedged awkwardly. But then she took pity and said, "Why don't you come with me? I'll fix a plate of cake for you and you can stash it somewhere for later."

"Hold on a second. I'll be right with you." Gus popped what looked to Hannah like a pill in his mouth and washed it down with the scotch and soda Marge had gone to fetch for him earlier.

"Should you be drinking and taking meds at the same time?" Hannah couldn't resist asking.

"It's just an over-the-counter antacid. That pate had too much horseradish for me."

Since they were sitting at the center of the horseshoe-shaped booth, Gus slid out from one direction and Hannah slid out from the other. Gus leaned over to retrieve his gla.s.s, and while she was waiting for him, Hannah looked out over the crowd. She was surprised to see Jack standing only a few feet away, holding Marge's arm while she exchanged a few words with another couple in a booth.

Hannah gave a little wave, but all Jack did in return was scowl. He'd obviously heard her talking to Gus, because the look on his face was disapproving. If she had to describe it, Hannah would say that Jack Herman looked as if he'd just overheard her making a pact with the devil!

HANNAH'S SPECIAL CARROT CAKE Preheat oven to 350 degrees F., rack in the middle position.

2 cups white (granulated) sugar 3 eggs cup vegetable oil (not canola, or olive, or anything but veggie oil) 1 teaspoon vanilla extract cup sour cream (or unflavored yogurt) 2 teaspoons baking soda 2 teaspoons cinnamon (or teaspoon cardamom and the rest cinnamon) 1 teaspoons salt 1 20-ounce can crushed pineapple, juice and all*

2 cups chopped walnuts (or pecans) 2 cups flour (don't sift-pack it down when you measure) 2 cups grated carrots (also pack them down when you measure) * That's about 1 cups of crushed pineapple and a scant cup juice Grease (or spray with Pam) a 9-inch by 13-inch cake pan and set it aside.

Hannah's 1stNote: This is a lot easier with an electric mixer, but you can also make it by hand.

Beat the sugar, eggs, vegetable oil, and vanilla together in a large bowl. Mix in the sour cream (or yogurt.) Add the baking soda, cinnamon (and cardamom if you used it) and salt. Mix them in thoroughly.

Add the can of crushed pineapple (including the liquid) and the chopped nuts to your bowl. Mix them in thoroughly.

Add the flour by half-cup increments, mixing after each addition.

Grate the carrots. (This is very easy with a food processor, but you can also do it with a hand grater.) Measure out 2 cups of grated carrots. Pack them down in the cup when you measure them.

Mix in the carrots BY HAND. Grated carrots tend to get caught on the beaters of electric mixers.

Spread the batter in your prepared cake pan and bake it at 350 degrees F. for 50 minutes, or until a cake tester (I use a food pick that's a little longer than a toothpick,) inserted one inch from the center of the cake comes out clean.

Let the cake cool in the cake pan on a wire rack. When it's completely cool, frost with cream cheese frosting while it's still in the pan.

CREAM CHEESE FROSTING.

cup softened b.u.t.ter 8-ounce package softened cream cheese 1 teaspoon vanilla extract 4 cups confectioner's (powdered) sugar (no need to sift unless it's got big lumps) Mix the softened b.u.t.ter with the softened cream cheese and the vanilla until the mixture is smooth.

Hannah's 2ndNote: Do this next step at room temperature. If you heated the cream cheese or the b.u.t.ter to soften it, make sure it's cooled down before you continue.

Add the confectioner's sugar in half-cup increments until the frosting is of proper spreading consistency. (You'll use all, or almost all, of the sugar.) Hannah's 3rdNote: If you're good with the pastry bag, remove 13 cup of frosting and save it in a little bowl to pipe on frosting carrots and stems.

With a frosting knife (or rubber spatula if you prefer) drop large dollops of frosting over the surface of your cooled cake. I usually end up with somewhere between 6 and 12 dollops. The dollops are like little stacks of frosting-you'll spread neighboring stacks together, working your way from one end to the other, until you've frosted the whole cake. (This dollop method prevents uneven frosting thickness and "tearing" of the surface of your cake as you "pull" frosting from one end to the other.) If you decided to use the pastry bag to decorate your cake, mix most of the remaining frosting with one drop of yellow food coloring and one drop of red food coloring. Mix it thoroughly to make an orange frosting and pipe little carrots on top to decorate your cake. You can save a bit of uncolored frosting to color green and dab green stems on the large end of the carrots.

Chapter Four.

When Hannah's alarm clock went off in her darkened bedroom, she rolled over on her stomach, clamped the pillow over her head, held it in place with her arms, and tried to block out the noise. She wasn't ready to get up yet, certainly not now, and maybe not ever. She'd just closed her eyes, she was very sure of that, and it couldn't possibly be time to get up, get dressed, and drive to work. Perhaps the power had gone off in the middle of the night, causing her alarm clock to malfunction. Or perhaps she'd goofed when she'd set it last night. Whatever the reason, she was absolutely certain it couldn't possibly be four-thirty in the morning.

She really should check on the time, but that meant she'd have to open her eyes. If she kept them closed, she might be able to drift off to sleep again. Quite clearly it wasn't time to get up. She wouldn't be this tired if it were. She a.s.sessed her level of exhaustion and decided it had to be two-thirty or three in the morning. If she'd gotten another hour or two of sleep, her eyelids wouldn't feel as if they'd been weighted down with hockey pucks.

Hannah gave a little smile under her protective pillow. How much did hockey pucks weigh, anyway? She seemed to remember that she'd looked it up once, and the regulation weight was between five and a half and six ounces. That was the NHL standard. Then there were the blue four-ounce training puck, and the two-pound steel puck that was used to increase wrist strength. There were also hollow, lightweight, orange fluorescent pucks that were used for road hockey and floor hockey. Roller hockey pucks were made of plastic in light, visible colors. They were available in yellow, orange, pink, and green, but red was the most popular color.

Hannah gave a little groan. Now that she'd recalled almost everything she'd read or heard about hockey pucks, she was wide-awake. And her alarm clock was still ringing. She had to reach out and shut it off. It would wake the neighbors if it continued to ring.

Her eyes popped open, and Hannah sat bolt upright in bed. Her alarm clock couldn't be ringing. It didn't ring. It beeped. Her phone was ringing, and that meant something was horribly wrong. Not even her mother called her before six in the morning!

Two-thirty. Hannah glanced at the lighted display on her clock as she reached for the phone by her bed. She s.n.a.t.c.hed it from the cradle, her heart beating hard, hoping against hope that it was a wrong number and nothing awful had happened to her family. "h.e.l.lo?" she croaked, quickly clearing her throat so that she could talk.

"Hannah?" a young female voice asked.

"Yes. Who's this?"

"It's Sue Plotnik from downstairs. Is everything all right up there?"

Hannah glanced around. Everything looked fine, and she was fine, too, if she didn't count the fact that her pulse was racing. "I'm fine, and everything looks okay. What's the matter?"

"We're not sure. The noise woke us up. Don't you hear it?"

Hannah started to ask what noise Sue was talking about when she heard it, a low rumbling and thumping like an unbalanced load of clothing in a washing machine. "I hear it now. What is it?"

"Phil thought there must be something wrong in your master bathroom. The thumping is loudest when we stand in our bathroom and that's right below your bathroom."

"Hold on and I'll go check."

"Wait!" Sue sounded panicked. "Phil says not to go in there alone. He thinks maybe a burglar tried to get in your bathroom window and got stuck."

"That couldn't be it. Right after I moved in, Bill put locks on all my windows. They only open far enough to let the air in."

"Okay, then. I'll hang on while you go check, and if you're not back on the line in two minutes, I'll send Phil up with the extra key."

Hannah's heart was beating hard as she placed the receiver on the nightstand and headed for her bathroom. The door was open an inch or two, and the rumbling noise was loud. She really didn't know how she'd slept through it, but she supposed that if a person was tired enough, that person could sleep through anything. After a long night of studying when she was in college, she'd slept through a tornado siren. She hadn't learned about the tornado until the next morning, when she emerged from her apartment to find several large trees uprooted near the entrance to her building.

Hannah inched the door open and stepped cautiously into the bathroom. The noise was coming from her tub, and it sounded like thunder in the s.p.a.ce that was enclosed by tile walls and gla.s.s doors that turned the tub into a shower stall.

Something was in there! By the dim nightlight she had plugged in by the sink, Hannah could see a dark blur racing around the enclosure. The gla.s.s door was open a few inches, but the dark blur pa.s.sed by too quickly to identify. It was short and there was a scrabbling noise as it fought for purchase against the slippery sides of the tub. It had to be some kind of animal, smaller than a dog and about the size of...

"Moishe!" Hannah gasped, sliding the gla.s.s door open in time to see her feline rounding the back of the tub and heading for the faucets. He skidded to a stop, gave her a Whatcha-want? look, decided it wasn't something he needed to pursue, and began speeding around the bathtub racetrack again.

There was only one thing to do, and Hannah did it. She stepped into the tub and cornered him as he pa.s.sed by the faucets again. "That's quite enough, Moishe!" she told him in no uncertain terms.

Moishe studied her expression for a moment or two, and then he jumped out of the tub and ran into the bedroom. Hannah slid the gla.s.s door shut and hurried back to the phone. She had some apologizing to do to her downstairs neighbors.

She had been asleep for all of three seconds when it happened again. Hannah got out of bed and dragged her cat out of the bathtub. She remembered sliding the gla.s.s door closed, and that meant Moishe had managed to claw it open. Sterner measures had to be taken.

This time Hannah didn't bother to shut the gla.s.s door. Moishe would only claw it open again. Instead, she closed the bathroom door and hoped that she wouldn't run into it when she got up out of the sound sleep she was hoping to get before morning. Unfortunately, it was morning. One glace at the lighted display of her alarm clock told her that it was ten after three. The term h.e.l.lcat took on new meaning for her as she crawled into bed and attempted to go back to sleep for the hour and minutes that were left before her alarm clock went off.

She was just drifting off when she heard it, a determined scratching at the bathroom door. That conjured up visions of new paint jobs and perhaps even a new bathroom door in Hannah's mind. Moishe obviously wanted to run more laps in the Bathtub Grand Prix, and he was bound and determined to claw, bite, or tunnel his way in.

Hannah gave a little groan and sat up. She'd been awakened from a sound sleep twice in one night by the ungrateful feline she'd taken in from the cold Minnesota winters, kept healthy with regular vet visits, and fed good nutritious food every day. She'd even bought him his own expensive feather pillow, and she let him snuggle under her comforter. She felt betrayed, and that made her angry, but getting annoyed at Moishe wouldn't solve her problem. She had to calm him down before he found another noisy pastime that would bother her neighbors.

There was only one action to take, one thing that would managed to calm her hyperactive pet so that he wouldn't cause trouble. She flicked on the light, shut off the alarm that would sound in a little over an hour anyway, and headed for the kitchen to put on the coffee. She'd pretend it was morning and feed Moishe. And once he was fed, he'd probably nap on the back of the couch. By then it would be too late for her to try to go back to sleep again, so she'd mix up a batch of Raisin Drops, the new cookie recipe her friend Lois Brown had sent her from Phoenix, and bake them when she got to The Cookie Jar.

RAISIN DROPS.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F., rack in the middle position.

1 cups raisins (I've used regular raisins, and also golden raisins-they're both good.) 1 cups water (right out of the tap is fine) ----- 3 cups all purpose flour (don't sift-just scoop it out and level if off with a knife) 1 teaspoon salt 1 teaspoon baking soda 1 teaspoon baking powder ----- 1 cup softened b.u.t.ter (2 sticks, pound) 1 cups white (granulated) sugar 3 eggs, beaten (just whip them up in a gla.s.s with a fork) 1 teaspoon vanilla extract ----- Approximately cup white (granulated) sugar for later Hannah's 1stNote: Hank, the bartender down at the Lake Eden Munic.i.p.al Liquor Store, suggested that you could soften the raisins in brandy or rum, instead of water. (I used water.) Put the raisins and the water in an uncovered saucepan. Simmer them on the stove until all the water is absorbed. (This took me about 20 minutes.) Move the saucepan to a cold burner, or on a potholder on your counter, and cool the raisins for 30 minutes. (If you're in a hurry, you can speed up this cooling process by sticking the pan in the refrigerator until the raisins are approximately room temperature.) In a medium-sized mixing bowl, combine the flour, salt, baking soda, and baking powder. (I stir mine gently with a whisk so that everything's mixed together.) Set the bowl aside.

Hannah's 2ndNote: I used an electric mixer for this part of the recipe. You can do it by hand, but it takes some muscle.

Cream the softened b.u.t.ter and sugar together until they're light and fluffy.

Add the eggs, one at a time, and beat until the mixture is a uniform color.

Take your bowl out of the mixer and blend in the raisins and the vanilla by hand.

Fold in the flour mixture carefully. The object is to keep the dough fluffy.

Put approximately cup sugar into a small bowl. Drop dough from a teaspoon (or Tablespoon if you want large cookies) into the bowl of sugar. Form the drops into b.a.l.l.s with your fingers and move them to a lightly greased (I sprayed it with Pam) cookie sheet, 12 to a standard-sized sheet.

Bake the Raisin Drops at 350 degrees F. for 9 to 10 minutes, or until just lightly browned.

Lois Brown's Note: I bake just a few at first to make sure there's the right amount of flour. If they spread out too thin, add another Tablespoon or two of flour. I have been making this recipe for my family for 40 years.

Yield: 5 to 6 dozen deliciously soft raisin cookies.

Chapter Five.