by Joanne Fluke
"No, I'm fine. I was just worried that I'd damaged the umbrella stand."
"Nonsense! You know it's not worth more than twenty dollars. And that's on a good day."
Hannah glanced down at the floor. She didn't see anything that Luanne could have tripped over.
"Oh, there's nothing there," Luanne said, correctly interpreting the direction of Hannah's gaze. "I just tripped over my own feet, that's all."
"Well, I'm glad you're all right," Hannah said, waving goodbye to her mother and Luanne, and heading down the stairs. If she remembered correctly, Luanne had been on the girls' gymnastic team before she'd dropped out of high school. She was normally as surefooted as a mountain goat and it was doubtful that she'd trip over her own feet. Something was wrong. Luanne had looked absolutely terrified when she'd poked her head in the doorway and Hannah was sure it had nothing to do with worrying about whether she'd damaged the umbrella stand. Why was Luanne so frightened? And did her fright have anything to do with Sheriff Grant's murder?
Hannah's Bananas
Do not preheat oven-this dough must chill before baking
1 l/2 cups melted butter (3 sticks)
2 cups white granulated sugar
3/4 cup mashed very ripe banana (2 medium or 3 small)
4 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
2 beaten eggs (just whip them up with a fork)
4 cups flour (no need to sift)
2 cups finely chopped walnuts or pecans (measure AFTER chopping)
1/2 cup white granulated sugar for later
Melt butter in a large microwavable bowl. Stir in the sugar, beaten eggs, baking soda, and salt. Choose bananas that have black freckles on the skin so they're almost overripe. Mash them until they're smooth (you can do this in a food processor or by hand). Add the banana puree and mix thoroughly. Mix in the flour and then the nuts. Cover your bowl and refrigerate it for 4 hours (overnight is fine, too).
When you're ready to bake, preheat the oven to 350 degrees F., rack in the middle position.
Roll the chilled dough into walnut-sized balls with your hands. (This dough is quite sticky-you can wear plastic gloves if you like, or wet your hands slightly so the dough won't stick to them.) Put 1/2 cup white sugar in a small bowl and roll the balls in it. Place the dough balls on a greased cookie sheet, 12 to a sheet. Press them down just a little so they won't roll off on the floor when you put them in the oven. Then return your bowl to the refrigerator and let it chill until it's time to roll more.
Bake for 10-12 minutes at 350 degrees F., or until they're lightly golden in color. They'll flatten out, all by themselves. Let them cool for 2 minutes on the cookie sheet and then move them to a wire rack to finish cooling.
These cookies freeze well. Roll them up in foil, place the rolls in a freezer bag, and they'll be fine for 3 months or so, if they last that long.
Yield: Approximately 10 dozen, depending on cookie size.
Lisa's cousin Beth says these are great when they're dunked in hot chocolate.
Carrie Rhodes also loves these cookies. She says that middle-aged women should eat bananas every day because they need extra potassium. (I bit my tongue when she said "middle-aged"-Carrie's at least fifty-five and people don't usually live to be a hundred and ten!)
Chapter Ten
Hannah was still thinking about Moishe when she pulled into her parking spot at The Cookie Jar on Thursday morning. When she picked up a replacement tip sheet this morning, Sue assured her that one of the ten suggestions was bound to work and that Moishe couldn't hold out forever. But Hannah knew Moishe much better than that. If her cat decided that he didn't want to eat his senior food, he could be even more stubborn than the other Lake Eden male who had once been part of her life, Mike Kingston.
"Hi, Lisa," Hannah called out as she came in the back door. "Sorry I'm late."
"That's okay. I thought you'd be even later." Lisa's voice floated out of the coffee shop and a moment later she pushed through the door, carrying a steaming mug of coffee. "Did you get your problem solved with Moishe?"
"No. I got a tip sheet for switching him to the new food, but whoever wrote it doesn't know Moishe."
"True. How about sprinkling a little fresh catnip on his new food?"
"That's tip number seven." Hannah held out the sheet. "And number eight is drizzling some tuna juice over the top of his bowl. I don't have high hopes for any of them."
Lisa looked thoughtful. "Maybe Moishe's just too smart to be fooled by tricks. Have you had a heart-to-heart with him and told him why his new food is good for him?"
"Of course. I felt a little stupid getting down on the floor with him, but I did it anyway. I think he understood me, Lisa. He really paid attention to everything I said. But after I finished and I was getting up off the floor, he stomped over to his food bowl and tipped it over with his paw."
"Uh-oh. You've got a real problem on your…" Lisa stopped talking as the back door opened and Andrea stood there. "Hi, Andrea. Come in."
"Thanks. It's nice and warm in here." Andrea walked over to one of the stools at the workstation and sat down.
"How about some coffee?" Hannah asked.
"Yes! I've been saving up my coffee allotment, Hannah. Yours is a lot better than my instant."
Hannah headed for the coffee pot. Everyone knew that instant couldn't hold a candle to real coffee brewed from scratch.
"Here you go." Hannah set the mug in front of her sister. "What brings you out so early?"
"I got a phone call from the supervisor. She checked the records for me."
"Fun in the Sun?" Hannah asked, reaching for her notebook.
"That's right. One of their representatives called Bill at eight-twenty and the call lasted one minute."
"Good. Just let me jot that down."
"The only thing is, I don't think it helps Bill any. I drove from our house to the school and timed the trip. It took me twenty minutes. Not that he did it, of course, but Bill could have killed Sheriff Grant at eight and gotten home in time to take the Fun in the Sun sales call."
"Wrong," Hannah said, flipping through the notebook until she found the right page. "I was standing right there in the parking lot while Mike looked for bloodstains. He found they were heaviest right next to Sheriff Grant's car and Mike said that's where it happened. Since the car was at least ten yards away from the Dumpster, it must have taken the killer at least a couple of minutes to drag Sheriff Grant's body there and put it inside."
"And if Bill had done that, he would have missed the Fun in the Sun call by a couple of minutes?"
"Absolutely."
"Thanks, Hannah." A relieved smile spread over Andrea's face. "Could the other call, the one from the roofing company, clear Bill completely if it came in at the right time?"
"Maybe. Didn't you tell me that you got home from the movie with Tracey at nine forty-five?"
"That's right. I looked at my watch when we got out of the car. I was feeling a little guilty because I'd kept Tracey up so late on a school night. I told her to go in the house, kiss her dad, and go straight to bed."
Hannah turned to a clean page in her notebook and crunched the numbers. "The second call could clear Bill if it came in at approximately ten minutes after nine. The time frame's tight, but that would do it."
"Great! I'm going to drive around and look at more roofs, Hannah. I've got to find out who made that second call."
"Take your coffee with you," Hannah urged, dumping the contents of Andrea's mug into a disposable cup.
"Thanks. I'll be back if I find anything."
Lisa waited until Andrea had left and then she turned to Hannah. "What's this about roofs?"
It took Hannah a moment or two, but Lisa caught on right away when she explained about the time frame and how the second telemarketing call could provide an alibi for Bill.
"I'll call Herb right away," Lisa promised.
"Are you going to ask him if he got the same telemarketing call?"
&
nbsp; "That wouldn't do any good. Herb always hangs up the minute they say, And how are you this evening? I just thought that since he makes his rounds every hour, he could keep his eye out for roofing trucks."
Hannah had just finished baking an extra batch of Pecan Chews for a special order when the phone rang. Since Lisa didn't pick up right away, Hannah assumed that she was waiting on a customer and grabbed the wall phone in the kitchen. "The Cookie Jar. Hannah speaking."
"I'm glad you answered, Hannah."
"Hi, Mother," Hannah said quickly. Delores sounded a trifle breathless. "Where are you?"
"I'm at a pay phone on the street outside The Pink Giraffe. Guess who got that bear chair for Christmas!"
Hannah rolled her eyes heavenward. "Sheriff Grant is dead, Bill's the prime suspect, Norman's in Seattle and he could be playing spin the dental drill with his ex-fiancйe, and I'm on the outs with Mike. My life is pretty grim right now… and you want me to play guessing games?"
"I'm sorry, dear. Let me rephrase that," Delores sounded only slightly apologetic. "It's just that I'm so surprised. My friend at The Pink Giraffe said that they shipped the bear chair to Suzie Hanks!"
"Luanne's daughter?"
"Yes. What do you think that means?"
Hannah blinked. And then she blinked again. "I'm not sure, but I'll find out. Don't say anything to anybody until you hear from me, all right?"
"But… but… but…"
Delores was sputtering like a badly tuned motor and Hannah interrupted. "Calm down, Mother. It might mean nothing at all."
"But how could that be?"
Hannah thought fast. "Nettie's active in quite a few charities, isn't she?"
"You know she is."
"Let's say one of her charities decided to give a really nice Christmas gift to a needy child. Suzie Hanks would certainly fit the bill."
"That's true," Delores sounded thoughtful. "But why would Nettie tell Claire that she was looking for a present for a relative?"
"Maybe there were other people in Claire's shop and Nettie was protecting the child's identity. You know how touchy Luanne is about accepting charity."
There was a long silence. Hannah knew that her mother was thinking it over. The silence stretched out with only the faint crackles on the line, the earmarks of a long distance call. Finally Delores cleared her throat and spoke again. "You have a point, Hannah. And Nettie's smart enough to realize that Luanne would have packed up that chair and sent it right back if she'd known it was charity. But do you think that's really what happened? It seems pretty far-fetched to me!"
"I know it does, but it's possible." Hannah tried to sound as if she believed her own story. "You just keep mum until you hear from me. I'll run right over to Granny's Attic and find out from Luanne personally."
"Luanne's out at the Ferguson family farm auction. They're selling a wonderful treadle sewing machine, and there's an oak butter churn that I have my heart set on buying. There's some milk glass, too, and you know how popular that is. Promise me you won't disturb her when she's bidding, Hannah. She has to concentrate."
"I won't disturb her, but I need to get to the bottom of this. And just as soon as I do, I'll tell you."
Delores made a little sound of distress. "You have no idea how difficult it's going to be not to tell a few of my closest friends and get their opinion on…”
"Don't you dare!" Hannah interrupted with a warning.
"All right, I won't. My lips are sealed until I hear from you. But I'd better hear from you soon!"
Once Hannah had explained things to Lisa, she headed out to the Ferguson farm. It was only a mile from the site of Norman's new house and since his contractor and crew weren't there, Hannah pulled into the driveway to see how the house was progressing.
"How about that? It's beginning to look like a house," Hannah said to the purple grackle that was pecking at something in the yard. The foundation had been poured, the framing was complete, and the workmen had almost finished the sheer walls. Once the roof was on and the doors and windows were secure, it would be snug for the winter.
Even though Norman had invited her to come out to see the progress several times in the past, Hannah felt a bit like an intruder as she opened the front door. Actually, opening the door was a bit silly. The tall windows that would go on either side of the door were still missing and she could have simply stepped through the framing. All the same, there was something wonderfully ceremonial about turning the knob and opening the front door of the house they'd designed together for the dream house contest.
"Nice," Hannah said, stepping into the foyer and gazing up at the staircase that led to the second floor balcony. Then she climbed the stairs and headed down the hallway to the children's bedrooms. They looked like empty boxes now, but Hannah could imagine a boy's room with model airplanes hanging from the ceiling, and a girl's room with a window seat where she could sit and dream. There was another room for an office or hobby room… and then there was the master bedroom.
Hannah held her breath as she entered the master bedroom. It was exactly as she had imagined, with an outside balcony where the happy couple could have coffee in the morning and look out over the lake. There was also a river rock fireplace that would keep the room toasty in the winter and provide a romantic touch.
Hannah sighed past the lump in her throat. She suspected that all it would take was a little more encouragement and Norman would propose. Then this house would be hers, this wonderful house she'd designed with a man she firmly believed would make a near-perfect husband. The only thing stopping her from giving Norman the encouragement he'd need to make the whole thing official was the curse of indecision. How could she accept a proposal she'd engineered from Norman when she wasn't sure that she was willing to give up her relationship with Mike?
And what relationship was that? Hannah thought with a frown, the altercation they'd had about Bill foremost in her mind. But even though she was at odds with Mike for not trusting and supporting her brother-in-law, there was still an attraction between them she couldn't deny. As much as she loved the idea of living in the dream house she'd helped to design, she knew she wasn't ready to make that choice.
She glanced around her one more time and headed for the stairs. She'd dealt with enough for one day and there was still the meeting with Luanne to consider. The front door banged as she shut it behind her and Hannah tried not to think of how final it sounded as she hurried to her cookie truck. Her love life, or lack of it, was becoming a problem, but she didn't have the time to deal with it now. Norman could wait. Mike could wait. The important thing now was clearing Bill by solving Sheriff Grant's murder.
Chapter Eleven
The Ferguson family farm was large, with land stretching out as far as the eye could see from the two-story farmhouse that sat smack dab in the middle of the acreage. Hannah drove up to the house and parked, then followed the cardboard signs to the pole barn where the auction was being held. As she approached, she could hear Chuck Ganz, the auctioneer, rattling off numbers and patter so fast that it almost sounded as if he spoke in a foreign language. Chuck had once told Hannah that it took three things to be an auctioneer: a good memory for numbers, a quicksilver tongue to spit them out as fast as the ear could hear, and the courage of a grizzly to get up in front of all those people and risk making a fool of yourself.
It sounded like the bidding was just winding up, and Hannah stopped inside the open door to listen for a moment. Chuck stood on a platform at the opposite end of the shed, gesturing expansively and talking nonstop. Dressed in unremitting black from head to toe, he sported a wide yellow tie that he claimed was his personal beam of sunshine on a cloudy day. It was something he said at the start of every auction and not really very funny, but people liked Chuck and they always laughed because he expected them to.
"Sold for eighty-three dollars to the gentleman in the tan hunting jacket," Chuck called out, banging his gavel on the podium. "Pay the banker on your way out."
Hannah
spotted Luanne sitting next to an empty chair near the middle of the crowd. Several people had gotten up to stretch and Chuck was fortifying himself with another mug of coffee from the big thermos he kept in back of the podium. Hannah headed down the center aisle between the folding chairs and squeezed past knees to get to the vacant chair next to Luanne.
"Hi, Hannah." Luanne looked surprised to see her when Hannah slid into the chair. "Are you here to bid on something?"
Hannah reached down to rub her shin. A man wearing pointy-toed cowboy boots had moved just as she was trying to inch past him. "No, I came out here to talk to you."
"Just a second." Luanne glanced down at her auction book. "I need to bid on something in this next lot."
The bidding started and Hannah watched as Luanne raised her auction paddle. Almost simultaneously, Chuck pointed to her and rattled off a musical string of numbers. Luanne raised her paddle again, but this time Chuck acknowledged her with a nod and swiveled to repeat several other bids. Hannah turned to survey the room. Paddles were popping up all over. Luanne must be bidding on a very popular item. The bidding slowed once, faltered, picked up again, and then slowed a second time. If Hannah had judged the competition correctly, there was only one person bidding against Luanne, an older man with snowy white hair who was wearing a gray suit. Hannah studied him surreptitiously, but she didn't think she'd ever seen him before. Perhaps he was one of the "auction junkies" that Chuck had told her about, the crowd of men and women who made the circuit of the farm actions, hoping to pick up antiques at low prices that they could turn around and sell for a tidy profit.
Chuck was on "going twice" before Luanne raised her paddle again. She had a bored expression on her face, and she gave a little shrug to the man in the gray suit as if to say, "I'm not sure I really want this, but I'll give it one last bid." The man in the gray suit frowned slightly and gave his own shrug, lowering his paddle and nodding toward her.
