Plum Pudding Murder (16 page)

“They’re great,” Herb said, turning to smile at Lisa. He’d obviously missed his bride of less than a year, and the loving expression on his face gave Hannah a little wistful twinge. If she had accepted Norman’s proposal, he’d probably look at her like that. As a matter of fact, she was sure Norman would look at her like that. Norman was true blue, and he’d be the sort of husband who would never risk his marriage by having an affair with another woman.

On the other hand, if she’d accepted Mike’s offer of marriage he’d probably…Hannah’s daydream evaporated in a flash of painful reality. If she’d married Mike and he went out of town for the night, she couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t stray. It might be a repeat of his nights with Ronni Ward and Shawna Lee Quinn. If she were Mrs. Mike Kingston, she’d always wonder what he was up to when she wasn’t with him. Part of the problem was that Mike was sinfully handsome and women tended to throw themselves at him. Yes, but he doesn’t have to catch them when they do, Hannah reminded herself.

“What the matter, dear?” Delores asked, catching her eldest daughter’s unhappy expression.

“Not a thing. I was just thinking about all the things I have to do before Christmas.”

“I hope one of those things is making more of these cookies,” Herb commented.

Miss Whiting nodded. “These are excellent cookies. They’re chewy and crunchy at the same time.”

“Exactly right.” Mayor Bascomb reached out for another. “I think Stephanie would love these and I suppose I should take her something when I go visit her tonight.”

It was a blatant bid for a box of free cookies and Hannah almost laughed. But she didn’t. The mayor wasn’t happy with anyone who laughed at him and it was politic to stay on his good side. “I’ll put some in a box for her.”

“Are you going to sell these at the Christmas tree lot?” Delores asked.

“I’m not sure,” Hannah said, but the fact her mother had mentioned the Christmas tree lot reminded her of Larry’s sign and she turned to Miss Whiting. “I’ve got an example of a bad business practice for you.”

“Oh, good. Let’s hear it. I’m always on the lookout for new examples.”

“There’s a sign at the entrance to the Crazy Elf Christmas Tree Lot that reads, We sell below cost and make it up on volume.”

“What?!” Miss Whiting looked shocked to the core.

“I know it’s impossible to do that, but the sign is hanging right there. We asked Larry if it was some kind of a joke and he said it was.”

“Larry?”

“That’s his name. Larry Jaeger. His company is L. J. Enterprises. He said he heard somebody advertising mattresses on television when he was in high school, and that was the company slogan. He thought it was so funny, he made up a sign and he’s hung it in the front of every business he’s ever owned.”

“I see.”

“I guess it is kind of funny, but I still think it’s a bad business practice. What if people take it seriously?”

“That’s a valid point.” Miss Whiting stood up. “I’m sorry, but I have to leave. I have an appointment with one of my students and I don’t want to be late.”

“What was that about homework?” the mayor asked, after Miss Whiting had left.

“It’s for my class in small business practices,” Delores told him. “Carrie couldn’t make it and Hannah went to class with me. Miss Whiting gave us the paperwork from a company that had bad business practices and we’re supposed to identify the bad practice.”

“What’s the name of the company?” Herb looked curious.

“We don’t know,” Hannah answered him. “It’s blocked out on the paperwork.”

“Probably for legal reasons,” Mayor Bascomb gave his opinion. “Let’s see that paperwork. Maybe I can help you with your homework.”

“You?!” Delores looked shocked. “You were always terrible at arithmetic.”

“I was?”

“Yes, you were. I spent a whole summer trying to teach you your sevens.”

“Sevens?” Herb looked puzzled.

“His times tables. Multiplication. You know. He had the fives down just fine, and he knew his eights and nines. But the sevens stumped him every time. Isn’t that right, Ricky Ticky?”

Hannah hid a grin. Her mother had been Mayor Bascomb’s summer babysitter when he was in grade school. To this day, she was the only one who used his first name, which was Richard, and the nickname she’d given him, Ricky Ticky.

“It’s true,” Mayor Bascomb conceded the point, “but that’s something only my old babysitter would know.”

Delores bristled at the phrase, “old babysitter,” and Hannah chalked one up for the mayor.

“I did fine when I got to high school,” Mayor Bascomb continued. “That’s when I found out that you don’t need to know your sevens anymore. All you need is a calculator and there are calculators all over the place. My cell phone even has one. Now let me take a look at the homework and we’ll see if I’ve lost my touch for business.”

Hannah dashed to the kitchen to get her homework from Miss Whiting’s class and handed it over to the mayor. “Here it is,” she said.

Mayor Bascomb paged through the sheaf of papers, giving everything a once over. Then he went back and examined several sheets more closely. “Here it is,” he said, looking smug as he tapped his finger against one of the columns of figures. “Not bad for somebody who doesn’t know their sevens, right Delores?”

“Not bad at all…if you’re correct.” Delores qualified it. “What did you notice?”

Mayor Bascomb pushed the paper over to Delores. “Take a look for yourself. I want to see if you can find it.”

“It’s a record of receipts for supplies,” Delores said, glancing down at the paper. “They’re added correctly. I already checked the math. What’s wrong with it?”

“Take a look at how it’s paid.”

Hannah slid over next to her mother and they leaned forward to examine the paperwork together. “It’s paid by cash,” Delores said, looking up at the mayor. “What’s wrong with that?”

“A legitimate businessman wants more than a cash receipt. He pays by check so that he can use both the receipt and the cancelled check to verify business expenses.”

There was a gasp behind her and Hannah turned to see Lisa standing there with the coffee carafe. She’d been about to refill the mayor’s cup when he’d made the comment about verifying expenses.”

“What’s wrong?” Hannah asked her.

“I don’t know. Maybe nothing. But Larry always pays us in cash and he never has the receipt filled out all the way. He just asks me to sign it and he says he’ll fill in the amount later.”

Mayor Bascomb’s eyes narrowed and Hannah could tell he disapproved of the way Larry did business. “Is that bad?” she asked him.

“It’s not good.” Mayor Bascomb turned to Lisa. “A less than honest businessman could fill in an amount that didn’t match what he paid you. And you wouldn’t be able to prove otherwise since the transaction was completely in cash. You should never sign a receipt that’s not complete,” he warned, “especially if you’re being paid in cash.”

“Then I won’t do it again!” Lisa promised, looking properly chastised. “I had no idea I shouldn’t do that.”

Mayor Bascomb smiled. “It’s probably perfectly okay. It’s just that most people don’t do business that way and it’s unusual when they do. There’s always the possibility that they’re not keeping accurate records…for one reason or another.”

“Thanks for telling me,” Lisa said, and then she turned to Hannah. “Did Larry have you sign a blank receipt this afternoon when he paid you for the cookies?”

“He didn’t pay me for the cookies. I just assumed he sent us a check or something like that. I guess I should have asked…but I didn’t. And I didn’t ask anybody to sign for the delivery I made, either.”

“Better call Larry and tell him you’re coming back out to pick up a check,” Mayor Bascomb advised. “If you don’t, you won’t have a record of how many cookies you delivered. That’s not the way to do business.”

“I’ll call Larry right now,” Lisa offered, heading for the phone behind the counter. A moment later, she covered the receiver with her hand and motioned to Hannah. “He’s tied up right now, but he wants us to pick up a check after the lot closes. That’s at nine tonight.”

“I’ll do it,” Hannah told her. It was only fair. She was the one who’d forgotten to get a receipt for the cookies and ask for payment.

Lisa said something to Larry and then she covered the receiver again. “He says he’ll leave the gate open and you should come straight to Elf Headquarters.”

“That’s fine. Tell him I’ll be there. I’m going out to dinner with Norman, and I’ll call him when we’re through to let him know we’re on the way.”

CHRISTMAS LACE COOKIES

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

1 and ½ cups rolled oats (uncooked dry oatmeal—use the old-fashioned kind that takes 5 minutes to cook, not the quick 1-minute variety)

½ cup melted butter (1 stick, ¼ pound)

3/4 cup white (granulated) sugar

1 teaspoon baking powder

1 teaspoon flour

½ teaspoon salt

1 and ½ teaspoons vanilla extract

1 beaten egg (just whip it up in a glass with a fork)

½ cup chocolate chips

Measure out the oatmeal in a medium-sized bowl. Melt the butter and pour it over the oatmeal. Stir until it’s thoroughly mixed.

In a small bowl, combine the sugar, baking powder, flour, and salt. Mix well.

Add the sugar mixture to the oatmeal mixture and blend thoroughly.

Mix in the vanilla and the beaten egg. Stir well.

Add the chocolate chips and stir the mixture until it is well combined.

Line cookie sheets with foil, shiny side up. Spray the foil lightly with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray.

Drop the cookie dough by rounded teaspoon onto the foil, leaving space for spreading. Don’t crowd these cookies together, no more than 6 or 8 per sheet.

Hannah’s 1st Note: I used a 2-teaspoon cookie scoop to form these cookies. It was just the right size.

Bake at 350 degrees F. for 12 minutes. Remove them from the oven and cool them on the cookie sheet for 5 minutes. Pull the foil off the sheet and over to a waiting wire rack. Let the cookies cool completely.

When the Christmas Lace Cookies are cool, peel them carefully from the foil and store them in a cool, dry place.

If you want to dress up these cookies for special company, wait until they’re cool and then drizzle them with melted chocolate chips mixed with coffee. Start with ½ cup of chips mixed with 6 Tablespoons coffee and microwave for 30 seconds on HIGH. Stir it until smooth. If the mixture is too thick to drizzle, add additional coffee and microwave in 20-second intervals on HIGH until it is.

Hannah’s 2nd Note: These cookies look delicate, but they travel well if you pack them correctly. Start with a layer of Styrofoam peanuts (or bubble wrap) at the bottom of your box. Cover that with a layer of wax paper. Put down a single layer of Christmas Lace Cookies. Cover that with another layer of wax paper and cover with another single layer of peanuts (or bubble wrap.) Keep on layering peanuts (or bubble wrap), wax paper, Christmas Lace Cookies, wax paper, and peanuts (or bubble wrap) until your box is full. Top off with a layer of peanuts (or several layers of bubble wrap), seal and send to your lucky recipient.

Yield: One batch of Christmas Lace Cookies makes about 2 and ½ dozen cookies. This recipe can be doubled, tripled, or even quadrupled if you wish.

“I can’t believe how good this was!” Hannah said, forking up the last bite of Sally’s Triple Threat Chocolate Cheesecake Pie.

“Mm-hmm,” Norman answered, finishing his slice of pie at the same time. “More coffee?”

“Yes, thanks. I need coffee to cut all that yummy chocolate.” Hannah waited for Norman to fill her cup from the small silver pot that their waitress had brought. She took a sip and then she gestured toward the elevated booths that lined the far wall. “It’s a good thing Mother isn’t here.”

“Why’s that?”

“She’d be making her fourth trip to the ladies room and she’d be going the long way around so she could pass that booth with the curtains drawn. And if just walking by didn’t satisfy her curiosity, she’d drop her purse, kneel down to pick up everything that fell out, and try to peek under the curtain.”

Norman glanced at elevated section of the dining room. Each booth had a curtain that could be drawn for privacy, but only one group of diners had taken advantage of that feature this evening. “I wonder who’s dining in seclusion,” he mused.

“I don’t know, but it’s some kind of special occasion.”

“How do you know that?”

“I saw the waitress carry in a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket. I tried to get a look at the people inside, but she was really careful about closing the curtain behind her.”

“Did the waitress bring champagne flutes?” Norman asked.

“Yes. I’m almost sure there were only two.”

“It’s a couple then. I wonder who they are.”

“Do you want to walk past there on our way out?” Hannah asked him.

“Of course I do, but wouldn’t it be obvious that we’re snooping?”

“Not really. Janice Cox and her parents are up there in the end booth and they don’t have their curtains drawn. We could stop and say hello to them and then walk past the private booth on our way out.”

“You’re devious, Hannah.”

“I know. I learned from the best.”

“Your mother?”

“That’s right. So do you want to walk past?”

“I guess we could. It’s a real invasion of privacy though.”

“I know it is.”

Hannah looked at Norman and Norman looked at Hannah. They locked eyes for several seconds and then both of them laughed.

“Let’s do it,” Hannah said.

“I’m with you,” Norman agreed. “But it can’t possibly be anyone from Lake Eden.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because people from Lake Eden know better. They realize that if they pull the privacy curtain, everybody out here is going to think something’s going on. And then people are going to walk past and try to figure out who’s behind the curtain.”

“But what can they do if they really want privacy?”

“They can drive to a restaurant in The Cities where nobody knows them.”

Hannah laughed. Norman was right. If someone from Lake Eden wanted privacy, they’d have to drive to Minneapolis.