Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder (35 page)

I
t was four days before Christmas and Hal & Rose’s Café was decorated for the season. There was a silver metal Christmas tree in the corner that was illuminated by a spotlight with a slowly revolving color wheel. The tree was red for ten seconds, blue for ten seconds, green for ten seconds, and yellow for ten seconds. Then the cycle started all over again. Hal had purchased the tree from Hannah’s father at Lake Eden Hardware in the seventies, and it was still going strong.

Hannah, Andrea, and Norman sat in the back booth under several strings of multicolored tinsel garlands that had been looped over the ceiling light fixtures in a crisscross pattern. A small fake poinsettia sat in the exact center of each table, and brightly colored cardboard cutouts of wreaths, snowmen, and sleighs were taped to the backs of the booths.

Except for the perpetual poker game that Hal hosted in the private banquet room in the back, the restaurant was deserted. It was two-fifteen in the afternoon, too late for lunch, and too early for the students at Jordan High to order after-school hamburgers and french fries. Even Rose had defected. She’d refilled their mugs, plunked the coffee carafe down on the table, told them to help themselves, and headed upstairs to the apartment over the restaurant to wrap a few Christmas presents.

“So what do we have so far?” Andrea asked, blowing on her coffee to cool it before she took a tentative sip.

Hannah got out her steno pad and prepared to read her notes aloud. She was taking a breather from work so that they could have a strategy meeting. Lisa and Candy were handling everything, and after a week at The Cookie Jar, Candy was fitting right in. Everyone appeared to believe Andrea’s cover story, although Hannah thought Bill might be a bit suspicious. He was letting it slide, though. Bill wasn’t about to haul Candy off to the county home right before Christmas, especially since she was now staying in the guest room at Hannah’s condo.

“She’s approximately fifteen, she doesn’t have a driver’s license yet, and she lives with her mother. Her father was a veterinarian, and he’s dead.”

Andrea shook her head. “We don’t know that for sure.”

“We don’t know
what
for sure?” Hannah asked with a frown.

“We don’t know her father’s dead.”

“Why would Candy lie about something like that?” Norman wanted to know.

“Divorce. I heard all about it on a talk show. Some kids don’t want to admit their parents have broken up. They’d rather say that one of them is dead.”

Norman looked puzzled. “But why?”

“It ends the discussion. If someone says,
My dad is dead
, you say,
I’m sorry
. And then you change the subject. If someone says,
My parents are divorced
, you might ask questions about which one they live with, and how often they see the other one, and things like that.”

Norman nodded. “That makes some kind of sense, but I still think he’s dead.”

“So do I.” Hannah glanced down at her notebook again. “I’m almost positive her name really is Candy. She answers to it even when she’s distracted, and it sounds natural when she says it. And I’m pretty sure her last name starts with an
R.”

“She told you that?” Andrea asked.

“In a way, but she didn’t mean to. That first night when I woke her up, I asked her name. She said
Candy,
and then she began to say something that started with an
R
. When she realized what she was doing, she stopped cold and told me that I didn’t need to know her last name.”

“It’s probably an
R,
then,” Norman decided. “What else?”

“She has a photographic memory, although I’m not sure if that’s a clue or not. And when she was demonstrating it for me, she said she remembered the personalized license plate her mom gave her dad for his van. It said
critters
. And she told us her dad’s phone number at his clinic. It was eight-one-four, eight-four-four-one.”

“That’s a great clue!” Andrea exclaimed, giving her a thumbs-up.

“Only if her father’s not dead and the clinic she was talking about is still open.”

“Chances are, it’s still open even if he’s dead,” Norman told her. “Most clinics don’t go out of business when the doctor dies. Look at my father’s practice. If I hadn’t come back to run it, my mother would have sold it to another dentist. And you can bet he wouldn’t have changed the number, since all the patients already have it. You see medical practices for sale all the time. What you’re buying is the equipment and the existing patient list.”

Andrea gave him a bright smile. “Norman’s right, Hannah. Just look at Bertie. She didn’t start the Cut ’n Curl from scratch. She bought the former owner’s equipment and her client list. And I know for a fact that she kept the same phone number.”

“Maybe the vet clinic still has the same phone number, but unfortunately, there’s a hitch.” Hannah didn’t bother to point out that buying a medical practice wasn’t exactly the same as purchasing a beauty shop, and that Andrea was guilty of trying to add apples and oranges.

“What’s the hitch?” Norman asked.

“Candy didn’t give me the area code.”

Andrea waved off that concern. “We ought to be able to get around that. I mean, how many area codes can there be?”

“Over two hundred sixty, and that’s not counting Canada. I looked it up in the phone book. It would take hours to dial all those numbers.”

“I’ll do it,” Andrea volunteered. “It won’t take me that long since I’ve got programmable one-button dialing. All I have to do is punch in the area code and my phone will put in the rest.”

Hannah just shook her head. “Okay, if you think you can do it, but I don’t even want to think about what Bill will say when you get your next phone bill.”

“He won’t say anything, because it’ll be the same as this month’s phone bill.”

“You have a cell phone with unlimited minutes and no roaming charges?” Norman guessed.

“That’s right. I’ll start calling the minute I get home and work until Bill comes in the door. I’ll do what it takes, Hannah. If I have to, I’ll wait until he goes to sleep and I’ll call all night.”

“They might not be open all night,” Hannah pointed out.

“I know that. But since it’s a clinic, there’s bound to be an answering service. Is there anything else I should know about Candy’s family?”

Hannah glanced back down at her notes. “Her mother taught her how to make candy, but you already knew that. And here’s something, but it doesn’t do us a whole lot of good.” Hannah pointed to a note she’d made. “She said her Grandfather Samuel is a Methodist minister, but I don’t know what side of the family he’s on.”

“So far the phone number’s our best bet,” Norman said. “I’ll hop on the Internet to see if I can track down that license plate, but it’s a long shot since she didn’t say exactly how they spelled it and we don’t know the state. And if her father’s dead and her mother sold the van or something like that, the plate could have gone back into circulation.”

“I’ve got a theory about her home state,” Hannah told them. “My guess is, it’s not Minnesota. We watched the news last night right before she went to bed, and she wasn’t a bit jumpy.”

Norman gave a nod. “And she would have been jumpy if she was afraid her mother had reported her missing? And they might show her picture on television?”

“Exactly. Not only that; they did a sound bite from the governor’s last speech, and Candy asked me who he was.”

“Then she’s not from Minnesota. Where do you think she came from?” Andrea asked.

“Somewhere in the Midwest, probably no more than a day or two away from Lake Eden on the bus, or by hitchhiking. I could be wrong, but the night we found her, I noticed that her clothes were still clean and her sleeping bag looked almost new.”

“That all makes sense to me,” Andrea told them, finishing her coffee and sliding out of the booth. “I think your idea about the Midwest is right, especially since she doesn’t have an accent. I’ll try the Dakotas first and work my way around in a circle. Where will you be if I get a hit, Hannah?”

“I’m at the shop until six. We’re closing at five, but I want to mix up a double batch of Fudge-Aroons to take to Sally’s Christmas party on Friday night. You’re going aren’t you, Norman?”

“Yes. Will you save me a dance?”

“Absolutely,” Hannah said, hoping her smile wasn’t slipping. Norman was a great guy, but he wasn’t what anyone without steel-toed boots might call an accomplished dancer.

“How about Candy? Is she going?” Andrea wanted to know.

“Of course. I told her it was one of the biggest parties of the year and she’s all excited about it.”

“Does she have a dress?”

“Not yet, but I talked to Claire and I’m taking her over to Beau Monde tomorrow.”

“Don’t forget shoes. She can’t wear tennis shoes with a fancy party dress.”

“I won’t forget.” Hannah was grateful for the reminder, but she wasn’t about to let her sister know that she hadn’t even thought about shoes.

“So you’ll be home at…what? Six-thirty?”

“That’s about right.”

“Okay.” Andrea turned to go, but then she turned back. “What do you want me to say when I find Candy’s mother?”

Hannah thought about that for a moment, and she remembered what Mike had said. Some runaways had a very good reason for leaving home. “If the mother’s not too far away, see if you can get her to come here. Tell her that if I bring Candy back without resolving anything, she’ll just run away again. And the next time she could get into big trouble.”

“Okay, but what if she won’t come here?”

“Then I’ll go there, wherever it is.” Hannah felt the same surge of fierce protectiveness she experienced when she held small kittens and puppies. “Just make it clear that I’m not letting Candy out of my sight until I know she’s going to be okay.”

W
hen the phone rang at seven in the morning, Hannah grabbed it. She’d been on pins and needles all night, wondering if Andrea would be successful in her phone search for Candy’s mother.

“The Cookie Jar. This is Hannah speaking,” she said, hoping it was her sister and not another customer with a big cookie catering order they couldn’t possibly fill before Christmas.

“She’s there, right?”

It was Andrea and it didn’t take sisterly telepathy to know that she was talking about Candy. “That’s right.”

“Meet me in the back booth at Hal and Rose’s in fifteen minutes. Say you have to deliver some cookies or something. I’ve got big news!”

Hannah frowned as the line went dead. Andrea was prone to play drama queen, but if she’d managed to find Candy’s mother, Hannah would be the first to applaud her performance.

“Is something wrong?” Lisa asked, noticing Hannah’s frown.

“Just another emergency cookie order. I have to run out with three dozen, but I’ll be back before we open. Will you bag them up for me, Candy?”

“Sure.” Candy grabbed one of their distinctive bags, snapped it open, and slipped on a food service glove. “What kind do you want?”

“Anything we can spare. You must have heard that old saying: “Baggers can’t be choosers.”

“I love these cookies! What do you call them again?” Andrea rooted around in the bag to find a sibling to the three she’d just eaten.

“Fudge-Aroons. Are you going to tell me, or not?”

“I’m getting to it.” Andrea glanced around, but no one was paying the slightest attention to them. The regulars were at the counter, downing mug after mug of Rose’s strong coffee, and there were faint sounds of sweeping as Hal prepared the banquet room for the day’s poker game. Only one other booth was filled, and it wasn’t within earshot. Cyril Murphy and Father Coultas were eating fried eggs and double orders of bacon for breakfast, something Cyril’s wife and Father’s housekeeper wouldn’t let them have because they were supposed to watch their cholesterol.

“So you found the vet clinic?” Hannah prompted.

“Of course I did. It’s in Des Moines, Iowa. I left my number with the answering service, but the vet didn’t get back to me until eight last night.”

“And he gave you Candy’s home phone number?”

“No, he didn’t have it. But he told me the name of the last vet. Candy’s dad was Dr. Allen Roberts. He died last year, so Candy didn’t lie about that.”

“I didn’t think she was lying.” Hannah shook her head when Rose held up the coffee pot. Her mug was almost empty, but now that Andrea had finally started to tell her about the phone calls, she didn’t want anything to interrupt her. “So Candy’s last name really does start with an
R
.”

“That’s right. I called information for her home phone number, but there was no listing for Allen Roberts. I figured that Candy’s mother must have put it in her name after her husband died, so I got a list of every Roberts in Des Moines.”

“Were there a lot of them?”

“I’ll say! I never thought of Roberts as a common name before, but the operator gave me dozens of numbers. I started calling right away, but I had to stop when Bill came home.”

“But you managed to find Candy’s mother?” Hannah asked, cutting to the chase.

“Right before I called you this morning. She cried on the phone, Hannah. She’s been worried sick about Candy and she was so happy to hear that she’s all right.”

Hannah couldn’t even begin to imagine the stress Candy’s mother had been under. “Did you ask her to come here so we could help work things out with Candy?”

“Yes, and she agreed. I put her on hold and called Sally at the inn to see if there were any vacancies. When Sally said there were, Deana told me she’d throw some things in a suitcase and they’d get on the road right away.”

“
They’d
get on the road?” Hannah picked up on the plural.

“The three of them. Deana is Candy’s mother. I told you that already. And then there’s Deana’s new husband, Larry. And his daughter, Allison.”

Hannah looked thoughtful. “When did Candy’s mother get married again?”

“The day before Candy ran away. And I know what you’re thinking, Hannah. I’m pretty sure that has a lot to do with it, too.”

Hannah sighed, her heart going out to the teenager whose life had changed so drastically in the past year. “A death in the family, a new stepdad, and a new stepsister. That’s bound to upset anybody. Did Candy leave a note?”

“Yes, and Deana’s bringing it with her. She said she cries every time she reads it.”

Mommy,

I love you so much, and I just want you to be happy. I know you love Larry and he makes you laugh the way Dad used to do. I’m really glad you married him. He’s been good about not trying to take Dad’s place and I know he doesn’t mind it if I call him Larry instead of Dad. If it was just you and Larry, I think we’d be okay. But it isn’t.

I can’t compete with Allison. Larry says she’s perfect and she’s won all those awards. He told me that she’s beautiful, and she sings better than anyone on television, and she makes the honor roll all the time. She’s totally different than I am. And Larry is going to compare me to her even if he tries not to.

It’s not going to work, Mom. I’m never going to be able to sing, and play the flute, and make the honor roll every time. That’s why I have to leave. Allison is going to hate me because I’m not like her. And then we’ll fight and you’ll stick up for me. That’s going to cause trouble between you and Larry, and I don’t want you to have to choose between us.

Don’t worry about me. I’ll find a job and be okay. I look older than I am and I’m not afraid of hard work. When Allison graduates and goes off to college, I’ll come back for a visit. And every once in a while, I’ll write to you to let you know that I’m all right.

Please don’t try to find me, Mom. It’ll ruin everything.

I love you, Candy

Hannah looked up to find three people staring at her over the coffee table in what Sally had named The Sunflower Suite by virtue of the pattern in the living room wallpaper. The three pairs of concerned eyes belonged to Deana, Larry, and Allison.

“It’s my fault,” Larry said, frowning. He was an attractive man with glasses and a neat little beard. “I wanted her to like Allison and I guess I went overboard when it came to describing her.”

The woman who looked like an older version of Candy shook her head. “It’s more my fault than yours. I should have realized that Candy would be upset about sharing with another teenager her age. It’s a real adjustment. From the time she was a little girl, she’s always had all my attention.”

Hannah glanced at Allison, who sat with downcast eyes. She was nice looking, a bit overweight, but well dressed in designer sportswear. She wasn’t the beautiful girl that Candy had written about in her note, and Hannah was willing to bet the farm that she wasn’t a great singer or an academic genius either.

“What do you think about this whole thing, Allison?”

“I wish she hadn’t run away,” Allison said, and Hannah could hear the hurt in her voice. “Dad always makes me out to be better than I am. That’s because he loves me and he can’t see my faults. But I’m a real person, and Candy would have seen that if she’d stuck around long enough to meet me. We could have been friends if she’d given me a chance.”

That was what Hannah was waiting to hear and she jumped in with both feet. “I’m going to give you the chance.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“You’re going to meet Candy in a neutral place and see if you can get along.”

“That won’t work,” Allison shook her head. “She’s already decided she doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

Hannah smiled as her plan crystalized. The idea had begun to take form when Allison had said the two girls had never met. “Candy won’t know who you are. You’ve never met, right?”

“That’s right. She ran away the day before I got to Des Moines.”

“Has she ever seen a picture of you?”

“I don’t think so. And if she has, it’s an old one. I didn’t like my school pictures this year, and they were even worse last year. When I got them, I tore them up and didn’t give them out to anybody, not even Dad.”

“Perfect.” Hannah turned to Larry. Can you stay over until Saturday morning?”

“Of course we can. We’ll stay as long as it takes to convince Candy to come back to Des Moines with us.”

“I want to see my daughter,” Deana said, and Hannah could tell she was on the verge of tears.

“I know you do, but it’s not going to work if you just walk in on her. She might bolt and then none of us would ever find her again. I’ve got a plan, but you’ll have to be a little patient while I arrange some things.”

“How long do I have to be patient?”

“Twenty-four hours. Tomorrow night is Sally’s big Christmas party. She has one every year. Everybody who’s staying at the inn is invited, and so are a lot of locals from Lake Eden. I’m bringing Candy.” Hannah leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Now here’s what I think we should do…”

Candy loved to shop and she couldn’t seem to stop smiling. They’d gone out the front door of The Cookie Jar and into the next building over. There were party dresses on the mannequins in the window, and Hannah had said they were going to buy something for her to wear to the party tomorrow night.

Mom would love this place!
Candy thought, looking around at the thick carpet, the soft lighting, and the closets filled with clothing. There were no racks crowded together and stuffed with clothes that were half off their hangers. Everything was in its own closet, and each closet was marked with a little gold number that told you the size. And instead of just going through the closets by yourself, you told the owner what you needed and asked her to help you choose it.

There were chairs in a conversational grouping in the center of the room, and Candy supposed they were for husbands or friends who wanted to wait while you tried on something and then walked out to model it. Candy was sitting in a pink satin chair while Hannah sat across from her in a pale green chair. The owner was standing at one of the closets, making a selection, and as Candy watched, she chose a dress and carried it over to them.

“This should be nice on you, Candy.” The owner was holding the most beautiful dress Candy had ever seen. “I think wine is your color. You need a deep, rich color with your skin and hair, don’t you think?”

“Oh, yes,” Candy breathed. One glance at the dress and she was in love. She would have agreed that the world was flat as long as she got the chance to try it on.

“Do you need any help?” Hannah asked her.

“No, thanks. I can manage.” Candy held out her arms for the dress and tried to keep from skipping as she walked back to the fitting rooms. It was as light as a feather and it shimmered in her hands.

It took only a second to peel off her jeans and sweater. And then carefully, oh, so carefully, Candy unzipped the dress and lowered it over her head. As it settled into place, she thought she could hear strains of beautiful music. She zipped it up, twirled around on the balls of her feet, and gave a delighted little laugh as she saw her reflection in the mirror. She looked gorgeous, not like herself at all. And she looked older, at least seventeen, and maybe even the twenty she’d told Hannah and Norman she was. She was Cinderella, and she was going to the ball!

“Let’s see, Candy,” Hannah called out, and Candy hurried out of the dressing room to show her.

“It’s lovely on you,” the owner of the shop said, but Candy was concerned about Hannah. Her new friend was buying her this dress and there wasn’t any price tag. Candy had heard of sticker shock when people saw the prices of new cars. Was this dress so expensive that they had to hide the cost?

“You’ve got a great eye, Claire,” Hannah complimented the owner. And then she turned to Candy. “It looks absolutely wonderful, and I think we should get it for the party tomorrow. What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful,” Candy said, sighing deeply. “But…is it too expensive?”

“No.”

Both the owner and Hannah spoke at once, and then they burst out laughing. Even Candy had to smile.

“Claire gives me a discount because I’m her next-door neighbor,” Hannah explained.

“It’s only fair,” the owner said. “Hannah brings me free cookies whenever she bakes my favorites.”

Candy gave a delighted laugh, she was so happy. She was getting the dress of her dreams and it made her look like a princess. The only thing that could make this moment even more wonderful would be if Mom could see her now.