Apple Turnover Murder

by Joanne Fluke

  “Wrong. But I’m very glad you did. What time is it, Lisa?”

  “Five minutes to three.”

  “Oh, good. Your dad and Marge should be here soon.”

  Lisa turned to Hannah in confusion. “Why are Dad and Marge coming here?”

  “They’re picking out a dress for me at Helping Hands.”

  “A dress,” Lisa repeated, not looking in the least bit enlightened. “I thought you got all your dresses at Beau Monde because Claire gave you a discount.”

  “I do.”

  “Then why are Marge and Dad going dress shopping for you at the thrift store?”

  “Because it seemed silly to pay good money for a dress I’m going to wear only once.”

  “Only once?”

  Hannah stared at Lisa for a moment. Her partner looked thoroughly confused. “I thought Herb must have told you. Mary Kate got the flu and I’m filling in for her as his assistant at the talent show tonight.”

  “Oh! That’s really nice of you, Hannah. I wonder why Herb didn’t call to tell me. I always carry my cell phone when I’m not here at the shop.”

  “Is it charged?” Hannah asked. It was a logical question, especially from someone who couldn’t even count the number of times she’d forgotten to charge her cell phone.

  “I know it was charged. I just took it out of the charger this morning.”

  “Is it turned on?” Hannah asked a second logical question, especially from someone who frequently forgot to turn on her cell phone.

  “Yes, I always leave it on. I never know when I might get a call from Dad and…oh.”

  “Oh, what?”

  “I just remembered. I turned off my cell phone when we got to the school. There was a sign up asking people not to answer their cell phones during the luncheon or the speech. I completely forgot to turn it back on and check for messages when I got back here.”

  There was a knock at the back door and Lisa went to open it. Marge and Jack were standing there, right on time. She gave both of them a hug and took the three plastic-covered bags her father was carrying. “Come in and try some of Hannah’s Zucchini Cookies,” she said. “They’re really good.”

  Marge and Jack came in and took seats at the workstation. Lisa dished up some cookies, and Hannah filled two mugs with coffee from the kitchen pot.

  “What kind of cookies did you say these were?” Marge asked, taking one from the plate.

  “Zucchini Cookies,” Hannah answered. “It’s Rose’s recipe from last year’s Christmas cookie exchange.”

  “Vegetable cookies,” Jack said, shaking his head. “What’ll they think of next?”

  “I used to make Carrot Cookie Bars for the kids when they were growing up,” Marge said. “It was one way to get them to eat vegetables.”

  Jack took a bite of his cookie. “Here’s another way. These are really good!”

  Marge took a sip of her coffee and gave a little sigh. “We could only find three dresses in your size, Hannah.”

  “That’s right,” Jack said. “We looked through all the racks, but that was it. It must be a very popular size. They’re nice dresses, though. I like the blue one the best, but the others are nice, too. Are you going to try them on…my dear?”

  “Yes,” Hannah answered, not reacting to the term of affection. Jack always called women my dear when he forgot their given names. Sometimes he came right out and asked her to tell him her name, which was fine with her, but today he turned to Marge.

  “I hope you like the dresses, Hannah,” Marge said quickly.

  “So do I, Hannah,” Jack said, latching on to the name that Marge had provided. “Why don’t you try them on while we’re eating our cookies?”

  While Lisa took a few minutes to talk to her father and mother-in-law, Hannah retrieved the three bags from the hook by the back door and carried them into the small bathroom off the kitchen. There was barely room enough to turn around, but somehow she managed to remove the plastic covering and take the first dress from its hanger.

  The dress was made of white lace with a full skirt, a fitted bodice with a scoop neckline, and long sleeves that ended in points at the wrist. Hannah couldn’t quite decide whether it had been a wedding dress or a prom dress, but it was definitely the type of gown you’d wear to a formal event. She unzipped it, stepped into it, and pulled the dress up to zip it again.

  It must have been a wedding dress, Hannah decided after one glance in the small mirror. She spotted three small pearl buttons in strategic spots on the back of the dress that had been sewn there for the purpose of attaching a train. Of course the buttons could be removed, but now that she examined the dress critically, she realized that it was all wrong for her. The scoop neck dipped too low, the sleeves were too tight, the lace ruffle below the waist made her hips look enormous, and the style was so outdated that even a non-fashion follower like her knew it. The overall impression was of a woman trying to make do with a dress she’d worn a decade earlier, and although it did fit in the waist, she really didn’t want to have to worry about the low neckline every time she bent over to retrieve scarves, or flowers, or other paraphernalia from the low, square table that held The Amazing Herb’s magic props.

  The white dress went back on the hanger and Hannah slipped the plastic back in place. The dress wouldn’t do at all. She went on to the second dress, took off the plastic, and removed it from the hanger. It was a gorgeous color, a cross between an ice blue and a light turquoise. She slipped it over her head, and it whispered down the length of her body, settling easily on her shoulders.

  “Yes!” Hannah said, glancing in the mirror. The material gleamed with a satiny finish and the skirt spanned almost a full circle. The neckline was flattering, dipping down to just the right spot, and the darts in the bodice were perfectly placed. The three-quarter sleeves were less constraining than long sleeves, especially important when she handed The Amazing Herb his props, and the skirt ended just below the knees, ensuring that she wouldn’t trip on it when she got into the Cabinet of Death. Jack was right. This was the perfect dress. All that remained was to zip it up to make sure it fit her properly.

  Hannah reached behind her to grasp the tab of the zipper and pull it up. It slid easily to a point an inch or two below her waistline, but there it stopped. What was wrong? It simply wouldn’t go up any farther, even though she tugged a little harder than was wise.

  Imitating a contortionist in the tight confines of the bathroom was difficult, but Hannah managed to reach behind her with both hands, grasp the sides of the dress, and attempt to draw it closed. After two attempts, she realized that it was impossible. The dress was at least three inches too small in the waist. But how could that be? The label was still attached to the dress and the number it listed was her size. This was impossible. The dress should fit her perfectly.

  It took only a moment to lower the zipper and step out of the dress. Hannah picked it up and turned it inside out to examine the seams. The mystery was solved. The owner of the dress must have lost weight, because the gown had been altered. There were deep darts that extended above and below the waistline, effectively reducing the number on the printed tag by at least two dress sizes.

  There was only one dress left. Hannah found herself holding her breath as she returned the blue dress to the hanger and covered it with the plastic. This was her last chance, and her fingers were shaking slightly as she pulled off the plastic to reveal the dress inside.

  One glance and the hanger dropped from her nerveless fingers. Fate was cruel. It had played a trick much too heinous to believe. It was the purple dress, the same purple dress she’d worn at the Tri-County Fair and had handed over to the Jordan High students to sell at their rummage sale!

  Hannah shut her eyes. Surely she must be dreaming. This simply couldn’t be happening to her. But when she opened her eyes again, the purple dress was still there, pooled in a heap of bilious color at her feet.

  There was no benevolence. There was no kindness. There wasn’t even a
modicum of mercy. She had to wear the purple dress. There was simply no help for it.

  Hannah stood there for a long moment before she picked up the dark lavender horror. And then her mouth opened and she whimpered like a condemned felon awaiting punishment from a cruel magistrate.

  “It’s back,” she whimpered, staring down at the dress in total disgust. “I must have done something really awful to deserve this, because…it’s baaack!”

  ROSE’S ZUCCHINI COOKIES

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

  1 cup white (granulated) sugar

  1 cup brown sugar (pack it tightly in the cup when you measure it)

  1 cup softened butter (2 sticks, 8 ounces, ½ pound)

  1 teaspoon baking soda

  2 large eggs (beaten)

  1 and ½ teaspoons vanilla

  1 and ½ cups peeled and shredded zucchini (that’s about three 8-inch zucchini)

  1 cup chopped walnuts (or pecans)

  6-ounce bag chocolate chips (that’s 1 cup)

  4 cups all-purpose flour (don’t sift—pack it down in the cup when you measure it)

  Measure out the white sugar and the brown sugar in a large bowl. Add the softened butter and beat with a wooden spoon until the mixture is nice and fluffy.

  Mix in the baking soda and make sure it’s evenly distributed.

  Beat the two eggs in a glass with a fork and then add them to your bowl. Add the vanilla extract and mix everything thoroughly.

  Peel the zucchini. Shred them with a cheese grater (I use an old, four-sided box grater and shred with the second to the largest grating side.) You can also shred the zucchini with the shredding blade in a food processor. Measure out one and a half cups, packing it down in the measuring cup, and then add it to your bowl.

  Hannah’s 1stNote: You don’t really have to peel the zucchini, but if you don’t you’ll have little green dots in your cookies. Since green isn’t the most appetizing color for cookies, I always peel mine.

  Stir until the shredded zucchini is thoroughly incorporated.

  Add the chopped nuts and the chocolate chips. Mix well.

  Add the flour in one-cup increments, stirring after each addition. When all the flour has been added and stirred in, the resulting dough will be quite stiff.

  Drop by teaspoonfuls onto a cookie sheet that has been sprayed with Pam (or another nonstick cooking spray) or lined with parchment paper.

  This dough is soft. If you find it’s too difficult to work with, chill it for 20 or 30 minutes in the refrigerator and then try again. I used a 2-teaspoon cookie scooper and dipped it in water every three scoops or so.

  Bake the cookies at 350 degrees F. for 10 to 12 minutes or until lightly browned.

  Cool the cookies on the cookie sheet for two minutes, and then remove them to a wire rack to cool completely. Rose says that after these cookies are cool, you can store them in a covered container and they’ll keep very well that way.

  Hannah’s 2ndNote: Tracey loves these cookies. She’s trying to convince Andrea that they count as one daily serving of vegetables. Delores (who’s never been fond of vegetables) agrees. Bill and Andrea don’t agree.

  Yield: Approximately 8 dozen tasty cookies.

  Chapter Ten

  “Ready?” Herb asked coming in the kitchen door at four o’clock in the afternoon.

  “I’m ready.” Hannah took her purse off the hook by the door and ducked into the coffee shop to tell Lisa and Michelle that she was leaving for an orientation meeting with the producer of the talent show.

  “Sorry about this,” Herb said, backing the cruiser out into the alley and heading for Jordan High. “I know you had work to do, but they said that if we didn’t show up, they’d scratch us from the lineup.”

  “That’s okay. From what you told me it shouldn’t take long.”

  Hannah leaned back and shut her eyes as Herb drove the short blocks to the school. She was tired and she really needed to catch a nap. Unfortunately the commute wasn’t long enough to do more than rest her eyes.

  The front two rows of the auditorium were packed with contestants when they got inside. Hannah recognized the Langer Sisters, the Little Falls majorettes with their lighted batons, and Smokey Winslow clutching his banjo. “This looks like more than twenty acts to me,” she said to Herb as they took seats in the unoccupied third row.

  “They’re up to twenty-six,” Herb said, glancing at the program he’d taken from the stack in the lobby. “We’re number twelve, right before Perry and Sherri’s dance demonstration.”

  Hannah’s breath caught in her throat as a tall, dark-haired man walked onstage and took up a position behind the podium. It was Bradford Ramsey and the very sight of him made her feel slightly queasy.

  “There’s the host of the show,” Herb said, watching as he switched on the microphone. “He’s a professor from Macalester. I’m pretty sure Michelle knows him.”

  “Right,” Hannah said, wishing that weren’t the case.

  “Hi, Herb,” someone tapped Herb on the shoulder and Hannah looked up to see Perry and Sherri Connors. “Is it okay if we sit next to you?”

  “Sure.” Herb turned to Hannah. “Do you know our local celebrities?”

  “I certainly do! Sherri is one Regency Ginger Crisp with a glass of skim milk, and Perry is two Walnut Date Chews with a cup of Twining’s Breakfast Tea.”

  Perry and Sherri laughed as they slipped into two seats next to Hannah and Herb. “Are you doing your magic act?” Sherri asked Herb.

  “Yes, and Hannah’s my assistant. My cousin usually goes on with me, but she’s got a bad case of the flu.”

  “That could be what you have,” Perry said, turning to look at his sister.

  “But I feel okay now.”

  “I know, but it comes and goes.” Perry turned to Herb. “She’s not running a fever, but she can’t keep anything down. Don’t you always run a fever with the flu?”

  “I don’t know. Mary Kate’s mother didn’t say if she was running a fever or not.” Herb gave a little shrug and deferred to Hannah. “Do you know, Hannah?”

  Hannah shook her head. “It could be a mild case of food poisoning, I guess. I don’t think you run a fever with that.”

  “That’s probably it.” Sherri seized Hannah’s explanation eagerly. And then, when everyone turned to look at her, she gave a little laugh. “I don’t want the flu. That can last for weeks. I’d much rather believe it’s something I ate.”

  Bradford Ramsey tapped the microphone for attention, and then he began to speak. “I want to thank everyone for taking time out of their busy day and coming here for orientation,” he said. “I promise not to keep you long. I just want to brief you on where things are and what procedure you should follow for the actual performance tonight.”

  Hannah listened as the man who used to hold a place of importance in her life told them about the cash prizes and how the winners were to be chosen. Then he said that they were to sit in designated rows in the audience, and he told them when to come backstage to the dressing rooms.

  “If you’re in act ten on the program, you won’t leave your seat until act eight starts,” he said. “That will give you the rest of act eight and all of act nine to get into your costume and get ready to go.”

  “How do we know when to come out of the dressing room?” one of the Langer sisters asked.

  “There are slave speakers in the dressing rooms. They’re hooked to the microphones on the stage and you’ll be able to hear what the audience hears. When the applause at the end of the act begins, I want you to come to the wings at stage left or stage right and wait for me to introduce you.”

  “Stage left if our act is an even number?” one of the guys in the second row asked.

  “That’s right. Stage left if your act is an even number, and stage right if your act is an odd number on the program. It couldn’t be simpler. Just remember that when you leave your seats in the audience, walk quietly up the side aisles, go straigh
t down the hallway, and enter the backstage area through the green door.”

  “Will we get to rehearse it before the show?” one of the Little Falls majorettes asked.

  “Yes. When we’re through here, one of my student helpers will walk everyone through it. Just remember that when you pass through that green door, it will take you past the wings. That means you must be very quiet as you go to your respective dressing rooms to put on your costumes and your makeup.”

  There was a little sound next to her, and Hannah glanced over at Sherri. The young dancer was gripping the arms of her seat so tightly that her knuckles were white. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “I…I think I have to go to the ladies room. Can you let me out, please?”

  Hannah stood up to let Sherri pass, and Herb did the same. She watched as Sherri hurried up the aisle and into the lobby, racing in the direction of the restrooms. Sherri’s face had been pasty white and Hannah had noticed beads of sweat on her forehead. It was clear that Sherri was ill.

  “Did she go to the ladies room?” Perry asked Hannah.

  “Yes. I think she’s really sick, Perry.”

  “So do I. She keeps telling me it’s nothing, that she’ll be fine in a day or two, but I’m getting worried. This has been going on for over a week.”

  “Has she seen a doctor?” Herb, who had been listening to their conversation, asked.

  “Not yet. I offered to take her a couple days ago, but she said it wasn’t necessary.” Perry just shook his head. “I think it’s because we don’t have insurance.”

  “But I thought the Home carried medical insurance for all of you,” Hannah said.

  “They do, but we’re not living at the Home anymore. Sherri and I graduated from Jordan High last May and both of us got full scholarships to the community college. We’ve been there for a year now and we’re living in an apartment in that new building on campus.”