Authors: Joanne Fluke
Tags: #Mystery, #Romance, #Thriller, #Crime, #Contemporary, #Chick-Lit, #Adult, #Humour
There was that word personal again. Whenever people didn’t want to talk about something, they used that word. It was usually an evasion, an excuse to hide some fact they didn’t want anyone to know. Perhaps Lonnie did have something to hide, but somehow Hannah doubted it.
“Anyway,” Andrea continued, “I came here to tell you that Bill’s also excused himself from the case.”
Hannah’s mouth dropped open and she clicked it shut again. “But what’s going to happen if all the top detectives are off the case?”
“He’s got two guys who just passed the detective exam, but they’ve never worked an actual case before. Bill figures they can do some of the legwork, but he needs someone to direct the investigation. He’s calling in Stella Parks from the Cities to take Mike’s place temporarily. She’s coming in tonight.”
“Who’s Stella Parks?”
“She heads up the detective division that Mike used to run in Minneapolis. He worked with her and recommended her for the job when he left. Bill met her when he went to that law enforcement conference in Miami. He says she’s tough as nails, brave as a lion, and she has a mind like a steel trap.”
“That’s three clichés in a row. Does she deserve them?”
“I think so. Bill talked about her, and I got the impression that she’s a real force, if you know what I mean.”
Hannah knew exactly what her sister meant. If Detective Parks was that tough, she might be able to handle the case. She’d check with Mike to find out more about her. But Stella Parks wasn’t the issue, now. Her main concern was Andrea and how she felt about Bill’s excusing himself from the case.
“So are you upset about Bill?” Hannah asked, wondering if she should duck just in case Andrea threw something.
“Of course I am, especially since he doesn’t have an alibi.”
“He wasn’t home with you?”
“He was home, but not until almost three in the morning. He told me that he was driving around checking on a backlog of skip traces. You know what skip traces are, don’t you?”
“I think so. People who have a court date but don’t show up?”
“That’s right. A couple of bail bond companies contract with the sheriff’s department to locate the skip traces and bring them in. The department gets paid for every skip trace they apprehend, and that gives them extra revenue. They use the skip trace money for additional overtime, and personal equipment, and things like that.”
“Did Bill find any skip traces?”
“No, and that’s the problem. Nobody was home. And that means he doesn’t have an alibi.”
“But not having an alibi doesn’t necessarily mean that you’re a suspect.”
“That’s true.”
“You need a motive to be a suspect. I mean, somebody would have had to see Bill with her in a compromising situation before…” Hannah stopped abruptly as tears welled up in Andrea’s eyes. “No!”
“Yes. Bill says it was nothing, that they walked out of Heavenly Bodies together about a week ago. The wind was blowing, and Ronni got something in her eye when he was walking her to her car. Bill leaned over her to see if he could tell what it was. He didn’t even think about how it would look to anyone passing by, but someone saw them and drew the wrong conclusion.”
Hannah got up and gave her sister a big hug. “It’s okay, Andrea. I’m sure it happened exactly the way Bill said it did.”
“So am I but I wouldn’t put it past Ronni to do something like that deliberately to cause trouble between Bill and me. That’s why I want you to solve the case fast and prove that my Bill had nothing to do with it.”
“E spionage is thirsty work,” Norman said, as Hannah opened the back door at The Cookie Jar.
“I’ve got coffee.”
“Coffee’s good.” Norman stepped inside the kitchen and gave her a hug.
It felt so good to be in Norman’s arms that Hannah just stayed there for a long moment. She felt safe and secure, and very loved. She also wondered whether she felt thinner to him. Of course it had only been a couple of days and a weight loss that Norman could notice by just hugging her was unlikely. Not only that, it didn’t really matter. She didn’t have to lose weight to attract Norman. He loved her just the way she was.
“That was nice,” Norman said, smiling down at her as she stepped back, out of their embrace.
“Yes, it was.” Hannah gave him an answering smile. “Have a seat and I’ll pour some coffee for you.”
“Hi, Andrea,” Norman greeted her as he took the adjoining stool.
“Hi, Norman. What’s all this about espionage?”
“Oh, um…” Norman glanced at Hannah for help.
“You can tell her. Andrea’s going to be helping us investigate. So is Michelle. She’ll be coming in on the bus around six, and she’s staying in my guest room.”
“I’ll pick her up and bring her out to your condo. How about Chinese? We can stop for that on the way. And after we eat, we can discuss the case.”
“Sounds good.” Hannah turned to Andrea. “Can you join us?”
“Sure. Bill has to stay late to meet Detective Parks and hand over the paperwork. Now what’s all this about espionage?”
“I’m delivering messages from Mike to Hannah about how to work the case. He had to promise not to contact her, not even by phone.”
“Bill told me about that.” Andrea turned to Hannah with a frown. “And you’re letting Mike tell you what to do?”
“Of course not, but I’m not discounting his advice out of hand. He’s a trained professional, and he might come up with something that would help us catch the killer.”
Andrea glanced at Norman. “How do you feel about delivering these messages from Mike?”
“It’s a little strange. I write them down so I get them right. I don’t want to put my own spin on something Mike wants me to say to Hannah.”
“Good idea. I’ll do that, too.”
“You’re going to write down Mike’s messages?” Hannah asked, thoroughly confused.
“No, I’m going to write down Bill’s messages. I’m supposed to be a go-between, too. Bill can’t ask you for help directly. That would be undermining the official investigation. I’m supposed to tell you what he says about solving Ronni’s murder.”
“So I’m expected to be a marionette detective with Bill and Mike pulling the strings?”
There was silence for a moment, and then Andrea spoke. “I think that’s what Bill wants,” she said.
“And I think that’s what Mike wants,” Norman concurred.
“Well then, I guess it’s a good thing they can’t even call me on the phone.”
“Why’s that?” Andrea asked her.
“Because I won’t have to waste time hanging up on both of them!”
“Something smells good,” Lisa pushed through the swinging door that separated the coffee shop from the kitchen.
“That must be the batch of Candy Bar Bar Cookies I have in the oven. I’m glad you brought in that recipe, Lisa. They’re really good.”
“I know. I got it from my Aunt Lois Meister. She spends every Saturday baking with her best friend, Marcia, and they come up with some real winners.”
“Well, let me know if you get any more from them.” Hannah glanced at the kitchen clock and frowned. “It’s only three thirty, and it’s awfully quiet out there.”
“That’s because we’re closed.”
“You closed early?”
“I had to. We ran completely out of cookies.”
“But we baked extra cookies. There were two batches of Terry’s Carrot Cake Cookies and three double batches of Boggles.”
“And every cookie sold.” Lisa gave Hannah a proud smile. “We made more profit today than we usually make in a week.”
“Then that means we can take the rest of the week off,” Hannah said and waited for Lisa’s reaction. When it came, it was worth the wait. Lisa looked absolutely horrified by Hannah’s disregard for their work ethic.
“Just kidding,” Hannah was quick to reassure her. “Do you think tomorrow’s going to be busy?”
“It won’t be quite as busy as today, but it’ll be busier than usual, especially if you let me tell another story that’s straight from your mouth to mine.”
It seemed that Lisa had discovered a second career, and Hannah wasn’t about to thwart her. “Okay. I told you everything I know. You come up with something tonight and call me before I leave for the gym in the morning. As long as it’s not an outright lie or something the sheriff’s department asked me to keep quiet, you’re welcome to tell it to everybody who comes in the door.”
Evening came early in November. At five thirty on the dot, Hannah flicked off the lights on her cookie truck, locked the doors behind her, and hurried up the stairs to her condo, eager for warmth and light. She inserted her key in the lock, dropped her purse to the floor, and held out her arms as she pushed the door open.
She was not disappointed. An orange-and-white furry ball hurtled into her arms, sending her back two steps. It might have knocked her over if she hadn’t been standing with her feet braced apart, but Hannah was well acquainted with Moishe’s coming-home ritual. She picked up her purse, carried him inside, and placed him in his favorite position on the back of the couch.
“So you’re glad to see me tonight?” she asked him.
“Rowww!”
“And it’s not just because you know I’m going to give you one of your favorite treats?”
“Rowww!”
She laughed and scratched him under the chin. Hannah loved the way Moishe answered every question she asked him. She’d counted once, just to see how long he would keep it up. His record was almost forty answers to her questions. “Hold on a second. I’ll get something for you.”
Hannah headed to the kitchen to fetch the round canister of fish-shaped, salmon-flavored kitty treats. Once Moishe was munching on one and another two sat on the edge of the couch in easy paw reach, Hannah hung up her parka, switched on a few more lights, kicked off her shoes, and carried them back to her bedroom to change into something more comfortable.
It didn’t take long to slip into gray sweatpants and a green sweatshirt. She pulled on fleece-lined moccasins and padded back to the kitchen. She had just enough time to feed Moishe, bake another batch of Candy Bar Bar Cookies in her home oven for dessert, and set the round table in the living room with plates, glasses, silverware, and napkins for her sisters and Norman.
“You ate all your food again?” Hannah stared at Moishe’s Kitty Valet in disbelief. There was plenty of water left, but the food was all gone. She turned to watch her gluttonous gato as he strolled into the kitchen, but he didn’t seem appreciably larger, his stomach wasn’t distended, and he didn’t look uncomfortable. How could he chow down on twelve cups of kitty crunchies and look perfectly normal?
“Not now,” Hannah said, coming to a decision out loud. She just wasn’t going to worry about her feline food lover tonight. She’d refill Moishe’s Kitty Valet, bake the dessert she planned to serve to her company, and settle down on the couch with something to drink until her guests arrived.
By six fifteen, the bar cookies were in the oven and she was sitting on the couch, her feet tucked up under her, sipping a cup of coffee. If she’d been a drinker, it would have been a double Scotch on the rocks. If she hadn’t been on a diet, it would have been hot chocolate. As it was, coffee was the only noncaloric hot beverage she could think of to drink…unless she wanted to count tea. And she didn’t.
Moishe hopped onto the seat of the couch and snuggled up against her legs. Hannah reached out to pet him and sighed in contentment. It was good to be home. It had been a very long day, starting with the gruesome discovery of Ronni’s body in the Jacuzzi and ending with the heavier than usual preparations for tomorrow’s baking.
A cat’s purr was soporific. Hannah had heard that before, and it was true. She yawned widely, closed her eyes, and stroked Moishe’s soft fur. In a moment she was asleep, dreaming of walks in the North Woods with her great-grandmother, the deer they’d seen leaping in the distance, the birds flitting from branch to branch, beeping cheerily. Beeping? Birds didn’t beep!
“The oven!” Hannah exclaimed, getting up so swiftly she dislodged Moishe. She must have fallen asleep, and her oven timer was beeping. She rushed to the kitchen, opened the oven door, and gave a sigh of relief as she pulled her pan of Candy Bar Bar Cookies out of the oven. They weren’t too brown on top. Everything was just fine.
She’d just replaced her oven mitts on the hook next to the stove when the doorbell rang. A glance at the apple-shaped clock on the wall over the kitchen table showed six forty-five. It was a good thing she’d set the table earlier. Company was here, and she’d gotten up from her nap just in time!
CANDY BAR BAR COOKIES
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F., rack in the middle position.
1 cup softened butter (2 sticks, ½ pound)
¾ cup white (granulated) sugar
1 beaten egg (just whip it up in a glass with a fork)
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
½ teaspoon salt
2½ cups flour (pack it down in the cup when you measure it)
5 three-ounce chocolate candy bars (I used Nestle Milk Chocolate)
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¼ cup white (granulated) sugar
Prepare a 9-inch by 13-inch cake pan by lining it with a piece of foil large enough to flap over the sides. Spray the foil-lined pan with Pam or other nonstick cooking spray.
Mix the butter and the sugar together in a bowl. Continue to stir until the mixture is light and creamy.
Add the egg, and stir it in thoroughly. Mix in the vanilla extract and the salt.
Add the flour in half-cup increments, mixing after each addition. The dough will “ball up” like piecrust, and that’s fine.
Pat half of the dough into the bottom of your prepared pan. Smooth it out with your impeccably clean fingers.
Unwrap the candy bars and place them on top of the dough. (Make 2 rows with 2 candy bars in each row. Break the fifth candy bar in half lengthwise, and use it to fill in the ends of the rows.)
Pat the remaining dough on top of the candy bars, distributing it as evenly as you can.
Use the back of a table fork to make cross-hatches on the top of the dough, the way you’d do with a peanut butter cookie. The little grooves the fork makes will hold the sugar.
Sprinkle the quarter-cup sugar over the top of your pan as evenly as possible.