by Joanne Fluke
“Well . . .” Hannah thought it over for a moment. “I’m not really sure, since they’re not side by side. Maybe you’d better make both tomorrow morning so that I can give them both a fair test.”
“I can do . . .” Michelle stopped, her eyes narrowing, but Hannah noticed that they were also sparkling with laughter. “You almost had me there, Hannah. You just want both, don’t you.”
It was more of an accusation than a question and Hannah nodded. “You’re right. And while you’re at it, you can make all the muffins in your repertoire. I can freeze them down at The Cookie Jar and you can use them for your Lake Eden Players bake sale.”
“Sounds great!” Michelle agreed quickly. “I’m assuming that you’ll want to taste one of every kind to make sure they’re worthy of being offered for sale?”
“You got it,” Hannah told her with a smile. “That’s purely in the interests of being impartial, of course.”
“Of course. Purely.” Michelle broke open one of her muffins, buttered it, and then frowned slightly. “You won’t forget to ask Sally for that Peanut Butter Cheesecake recipe, will you, Hannah? I really want it.”
“I won’t forget, but . . .” Hannah stopped, not sure quite how to phrase her question without being insulting. “Look, Michelle. I know you’d never do this intentionally, but . . . you’re not going to bake it for the Lake Eden Players bake sale, are you?”
“Of course not! That’s Sally’s recipe and I’d never use it for anything commercial or public without her permission! But . . .”
“But what?”
“Sally supports the Lake Eden Players. She even hires them to do a little one-act play in the restaurant for special occasions. Do you think I should ask her if she’ll contribute a cheesecake for our bake sale? I could make a sign saying that it was Sally’s cheesecake and she serves it for dessert at the Lake Eden Inn.”
Hannah smiled. She’d been worried for nothing. Michelle understood that she should give credit where credit was due. “I’ll ask Sally when I see her for lunch. And I’ll tell her about the sign you’re going to make. I’m almost certain that she’ll be glad to help out.”
Two Peach Muffins later and Hannah was ready to go in for her morning shower. She was just getting up from the table when there was a knock at her front door.
“Ross?” Michelle asked.
“No. He’s not due back yet and he has a key. If it’s not Ross, it’s got to be . . .”
“Mike.” Both sisters spoke at once and then they began to laugh.
“He was driving by and he smelled your muffins,” Hannah offered an explanation.
“You could be right. Mike does have Foodar.”
The two sisters exchanged smiles at Michelle’s use of the phrase they’d coined for Mike’s uncanny ability to arrive just as they were about to serve food. Foodar was a takeoff on his label—Slaydar—for Hannah’s proclivity for finding murder victims. He’d first used Slaydar for this phenomenon, comparing it to the Winnetka Sheriff’s Department’s use of radar for locating speeders, in an interview about Hannah for the Lake Eden Journal.
“I’ll get the door while you shower,” Michelle said. “Then you can talk to him while I get ready for work. I’ll give him a couple of muffins, but I’m going to hide two for Lisa. I want her to taste them, too.”
* * *
Less than fifteen minutes later, Hannah was showered and dressed. She could hear Mike and Michelle talking as she walked down the carpeted hallway to the kitchen.
“Hannah should be out any . . .” Michelle was saying as Hannah appeared in the doorway. “And here she is!” Michelle turned to her. “Ask Mike about Tori’s condo. He says he thinks someone got in there last night.”
Hannah put on her most innocent expression. Truth be told, two separate parties had broken into Tori’s condo last night. They’d gone in first, and the man with the black tennis shoes had come in next. “Really?” she asked, looking directly at Mike.
“That’s what it looked like to me this morning.”
“Did they steal anything?” Hannah asked the obvious question.
“Not that I could tell. Of course we didn’t go through every closet and drawer to catalogue the contents.”
“Then why would they . . .” Hannah stopped speaking and assumed a shocked expression. “You think I did it?”
“The possibility did cross my mind. You don’t have a key, do you?”
“Of course not. I barely knew Tori. There’s no way Mother would go down there, not after finding Tori’s body, but she has a key, doesn’t she?”
“Not anymore. I asked her to give it to me on the night that Tori was murdered. And she did.”
“But you locked it up after the crime scene people left, didn’t you?”
“Of course I did. It’s police procedure.” Mike stared at her with the same expression that Hannah assumed he used to interrogate suspects. “Are you sure you didn’t have a key?”
“I’m absolutely positive. And I can’t believe you suspect me. Do you want me to take a lie detector test?”
“No.” Mike sighed heavily. “I’m sorry, Hannah, but I had to ask. Somebody was in there and we need to find out who. And they were smart enough to replace the crime scene tape.”
“How can you tell if nothing was taken?”
“It didn’t smell vacant anymore when I went in there this morning.” Mike noticed the disbelief on Hannah’s face. “I know. That sounds a little crazy, but there’s a certain . . .” he stopped, at a loss for words.
“Smell?”
“Yeah! That’s part of it. When you go into a place that’s been vacant for a day or two, it smells . . . vacant.”
“Okay. I understand.”
“You do?”
“Yes. It’s stale, like nobody’s been breathing the air there. No smells at all, except closed-up and stale. Airless and almost dusty, like no one’s walked on the rug or the floor.”
Mike just stared at her. And then he blinked several times. “How could you know something like that? It’s something I can’t even teach my detectives.”
Hannah shrugged. “It’s a feeling. A sixth sense. An empty deserted place. You know if someone’s been there recently, even if they’ve just been walking around and not touching anything. Then it feels . . .” she stopped, unable to find the words.
“More alive.”
“Yes! That’s it, exactly. And Tori’s condo felt that way?”
“Yeah.” Mike let out his breath in another sigh and then he took another sip of his coffee. “So who do you have for suspects, Hannah?”
“Only one. I had another, but I had to eliminate him.”
“Who did you eliminate?”
“Mayor Bascomb. The word around town was that Tori was getting ready to cut him out of her will because he borrowed money from her to buy Stephanie things every time he . . . well, you know, and Tori was fed up with his . . .”
“Philandering. I heard that, too. So how did you eliminate him as a suspect?”
“I found out that the mayor and Stephanie were in the Red Velvet Lounge that night for their Reuben sandwiches. The mayor did go up to Tori’s condo, but he was back in the lounge with Stephanie long before the time of her murder.”
“Okay. That corresponds with what I have. Who’s your other suspect?”
“The as yet unidentified suspect with the unknown motive and he or she is always on my list. That’s it. How about you?”
Mike shook his head. “Nothing much, either. I’ve got theories, but none of them have proved out yet. Somebody killed her, that’s for sure, but I can’t tell you who.”
They sat and talked about other things for several minutes while Mike ate another two muffins. Hannah didn’t know exactly how many he’d consumed before she came into the kitchen, but judging from the stack of cupcake papers on the table it had to be at least two or three.
“Tell Michelle I really like her muffins,” Mike said, getting up from the table. “I’ve got to
go, Hannah. I’m meeting a couple of my guys for breakfast.”
Hannah glanced over at the wire rack with the muffin pan. There was one muffin left. She had eaten two, Michelle had eaten two and said that she was going to hide two for Lisa. Including the one left, that was a total of seven. There were twelve muffins in a batch and that meant Mike had eaten five Peach Muffins!
You’re going to eat breakfast after five muffins? Hannah’s mind prompted her to ask. But of course Hannah didn’t comply with the suggestion. She knew that Mike was like a camel when it came to tanking up on food. He’d eat great quantities in one sitting and then he wouldn’t eat again all day. If he was going to the Corner Tavern for breakfast, he’d probably have three eggs, and ham, and a side of bacon, and pancakes, and hash browns, and buttered toast. And then he wouldn’t eat again all day long.
Mike got up from the table and Hannah walked him to the door. When they got there, he turned to look at her searchingly. “You’ll let me know if you discover anything, won’t you?”
“I will,” Hannah promised. It was an easy promise to make since she hadn’t told him exactly when she’d let him know. This was not the time to mention Tori’s business manager, or the man with the black tennis shoes with silver stripes and laces.
“Okay. Keep safe, Hannah. I know there’s something you’re not telling me. I can just sense it. But please don’t get into any trouble. If you even think you might be getting into danger, call me, or text me, or let me know somehow. I . . . well . . . I worry about you.”
“I know,” Hannah said softly. “And I worry about you too, Mike. You’re a cop and you could face a dangerous situation at any time.”
“Yeah, but I know how to handle it.” And you don’t was his implication.
Hannah heard his unspoken meaning and she began to bristle. She’d managed to get herself out of several dangerous situations in the past and she’d do so again if the occasion arose. But Mike was concerned about her and that meant he cared. And even though she was a bit angry that he didn’t trust her to use good judgment, his concern for her made her feel good.
“Thanks for caring, Mike,” she said. “And don’t worry. I’ll let you know if I think I’m walking into anything I can’t handle.”
Mike looked like he wanted to say something else, but he restrained himself and didn’t. Instead, he simply patted her on the shoulder, thanked her for the breakfast treats, and went out the door.
As she closed the door behind him, Hannah was left feeling conflicted. She didn’t know whether she should feel irritated with him, or grateful for his concern. And then, before she could settle the question in her own mind, Michelle came out of her bedroom, handed Hannah her parka, and they went out the door to start a new workday.
PEACH MUFFINS
Preheat oven to 375 degrees F., rack in the middle position.
The Batter:
15-ounce (net weight) can of sliced peaches (I used Del Monte)
1 Tablespoon all-purpose flour
¾ cup salted butter (1 and ½ sticks, 6 ounces)
1 cup brown sugar (either light brown or dark brown—it really doesn’t matter—pack it down in the cup when you measure it)
2 large eggs
2 teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon almond extract
2 cups all-purpose flour (pack it down in the cup when you measure it)
½ cup whole milk
½ cup peach jam (I used Smucker’s)
Crumb Topping:
½ cup brown sugar
⅓ cup all-purpose flour (pack it down in the cup when you measure it)
½ teaspoon cinnamon
¼ cup cold salted butter (½ stick) cut into 8 pieces.
Grease the bottoms only of a 12-cup muffin pan (or line the cups with double cupcake papers)
Drain your peaches in a strainer. (You can save the juice to drink later if you wish.)
Pat the peach slices dry with a paper towel and put them in the bowl of a food processor with the steel blade in place.
Cut up the peaches by processing in an on-and-off motion. Continue processing until the peaches are in small pieces.
Measure out 1 cup of the diced pieces and put them in a bowl on the counter. Sprinkle them with the Tablespoon of flour and stir until the peaches and the flour are thoroughly combined.
Place the butter in a microwave-safe bowl and heat it on HIGH for 60 seconds. Let it sit in the microwave for 60 seconds and then stir it. If it’s melted, take it out and put it in a mixing bowl or the bowl of an electric mixer.
Hannah’s 1st Note: You can mix up these muffins by hand or with an electric mixer.
Place the brown sugar in the mixing bowl and mix until it’s thoroughly combined with the melted butter.
Add the eggs, one at a time, mixing after each addition.
Mix in the baking powder, salt, cinnamon and almond extract. Continue mixing until everything is thoroughly incorporated.
Add half of the flour to your bowl (1 cup) and mix it in with half of the milk (¼ cup). Mix thoroughly.
Add the rest of the flour and the rest of the milk. Mix that in thoroughly.
Add the half cup of peach jam to your bowl and mix it in thoroughly.
Shut off the mixer (if you used one) and remove the bowl. You will be finishing the rest of the muffin batter by hand.
Remember that bowl of diced peaches on your counter? It’s now time to fold them into your batter.
Fold in the peaches and then give your batter a final stir.
Fill the muffin cups three-quarters full of muffin batter.
If you have peach muffin batter left over, grease the bottom of a small tea-bread loaf pan and fill it with your remaining batter.
Crumb Topping
Layer the sugar, flour, and cinnamon in the bowl of your food processor.
Place the pieces of chilled butter on top. Process with the steel blade in an on-and-off motion until the mixture resembles coarse gravel.
Fill the remaining space in the muffin cups with the crumb topping.
Bake the muffins in a 375 degrees F. oven for 25 to 30 minutes. (If you made tea bread, it should bake about 10 minutes longer than the muffins.)
When your muffins are baked, set the muffin pan on a wire rack to cool for at least 30 minutes. (The muffins need to cool in the pan for easy removal.) Then just tip them out of the cups and enjoy.
Hannah’s 2nd Note: Lisa and I like to use cupcake papers when we bake muffins. It makes them easier for our customers to handle, and they look prettier on display.
Hannah’s 3rd Note: These muffins are wonderful when they’re slightly warm, but the peach flavor will intensify if you store them in a covered container overnight.
Yield: 12 pretty, tasty muffins.
Chapter Nineteen
Hannah arrived at the Lake Eden Inn five minutes early and waved at Dick Laughlin as she walked past the bar.
Dick was racking glasses and arranging bottles behind the long polished red oak bar, but he saw her and motioned for her to come closer. “Sally’s waiting for you in her office,” he said.
“Okay. Thanks, Dick.”
Hannah turned to go, but he stopped her with a gesture. “Sit down for a second, Hannah. I need to talk to you about something.”
“What is it?” Hannah sat down on the closest bar stool and looked at him questioningly.
“I know something about what Sally’s going to tell you.”
“What’s that?”
“She’s going to tell you that Tori was out here the Saturday before she was murdered. And she was with a man in one of the curtained booths.”
Hannah took a moment to digest that fact and then she asked, “Who was the man?”
“I don’t know. All I can do is give you a description of what he was wearing when he left. I saw him walk past the bar, but didn’t see his face.” Dick gestured toward the doorway. “See how the swinging doors cu
t off my view of the upper part of everyone’s body?”
Hannah turned around to look. As she did, a waitress passed by and all Hannah saw was her uniform from the waist down and her shoes.
“I see what you mean,” she said, turning around to face Dick again.
“As I told you, I couldn’t recognize the man, but I’d recognize his shoes if I saw them again. It was pretty obvious he’d hung up his coat and changed to shoes in the cloakroom before he went past here on his way to the dining room, because he was wearing sneakers and it was snowing that night.”
Hannah felt her heartrate increase tenfold. “Anything unusual about his shoes?”
“Yes. They were black with silver laces and a silver stripe on the sides. I’d never seen sneakers like that before.”
“And you haven’t seen them since?”
Dick shook his head. “I haven’t. Of course, he could have been in here wearing different shoes.”
“Thanks for telling me, Dick. It could be important.”
“I hope that helps, Hannah. I’m going to really miss Tori. She used to come out here quite a bit with the mayor and Stephanie. She’d have a couple of vodka martinis and then she was the life of the party. You should have seen her on Karaoke Night. It figures, since she was on the stage, but Tori could really belt out a song.”
* * *
“Come in, Hannah.” Sally stood up, grabbed some papers, and came out from behind her desk. “I’ve got a curtained booth reserved for us. Dot’s working lunch today so she’ll be our waitress. I told her it was important and she’s going to make sure our conversation doesn’t go any further than the two of us.”
