by Joanne Fluke
“They look like twins!” Lisa said, her eyes traveling from one to the other and then back again.
“This one,” Delores tapped one of the photos.
“That’s Paul,” Norman answered her unspoken question.
“Paul has more prominent cheekbones, but perhaps that’s because he’s thinner. You probably could tell which was which if you saw them together.”
“Which one is the youngest?” Andrea asked.
“Paul,” Norman answered her. “He’s two years younger than Matthew.”
“Why do they look so much alike?” Lisa asked.
It was Hannah’s turn to explain. “Matthew’s father had a younger brother and Matthew’s mother had a younger sister. The two younger siblings met at their wedding and got married a year later.”
“I wonder if they still look alike,” Andrea mused. “I think Reverend Matthew looked like an older version of his yearbook photo. I wish we knew what his cousin Paul looks like now.”
“We don’t have any way to find out,” Hannah told her. “If the private detective Matthew hired to find Paul couldn’t do it, our chances aren’t very good either.”
“Here’s the rest of Matthew’s senior class,” Norman informed them, pointing to the third photo. “And here’s a picture of Matthew at the senior prom. He’s with his high school girlfriend, and everybody thought they’d get married right after they graduated. Her name was Alice Roste.”
“Now it’s Alice Roste Vogel,” Delores told him. “And they didn’t get married. According to one of my telephone sources, Matthew broke Alice’s heart and she married the oldest Vogel boy on the rebound.”
“And that’s our Alice?” Hannah was surprised.
“That’s right,” Delores confirmed it. “That’s what I was going to tell you when I came in this morning. Then I saw Mike, and I decided I’d better wait. I didn’t want him bothering Alice with a lot of questions. This must be terribly hard on her. My source said Alice never really got over loving Matthew.”
Andrea reached out to grab Hannah’s arm. “Mother’s source is right, Hannah. Remember when I told you that I was going over Claire’s sales information?”
“I remember.”
“Well, one of the invoices was for Alice Vogel. She bought a new dress the day after Reverend Matthew arrived in town.”
“That’s a big leap to a conclusion,” Hannah warned her sister. “What does that sales receipt really prove? Hasn’t Alice ever bought a dress from Claire before?”
“No, at least not in the past twelve months. I went through a whole year’s worth of invoices, and I think the only reason Alice bought such an expensive dress was so she’d look nice for Reverend Matthew.”
“That does make sense,” Delores said. “It’s natural to want to look good when you’re meeting an old flame after all these years.”
Hannah turned to stare at her mother. Delores had been dressing even better than usual, and that was going some! And she’d bought at least one new dress every week from Claire’s most expensive collection. Come to think of it, Bertie had mentioned that Delores had come in to the Cut ’n Curl to have her hair done at least once a week, and she’d gone for the works with a facial and a manicure. Was it because Delores was dating old flames again?
“Don’t look so worried, dear,” Delores leaned closer to Hannah so that she could speak in an undertone. “Your father was my only old flame. The men I’m dating now were just sparks.”
Hannah laughed and gave her mother’s hand a squeeze. Sometimes Delores was amazingly perceptive.
“Was Alice at the bon voyage party for Reverend Bob and Claire?” Lisa asked, putting an end to Hannah’s speculation about her mother’s love life. “I didn’t see her there.”
“Neither did I,” Andrea said.
“I didn’t either,” Delores told them.
“I honestly don’t remember,” Hannah said, turning to Norman. “How about you?”
“I don’t think so, but there were a lot of people. Of course I was only there for a couple of minutes. Once you’re through with your baking, I think we should drop by to see Alice at the bowling alley and ask her.”
“She’s got Mothers League this morning from ten to noon,” Andrea told them. “I know because Lucy Dunwright belongs. She always drops Karen at school, comes in to have a cup of coffee with me at the real estate office, and then goes off to bowl. She says she does it to keep in shape.”
“Bowling is good exercise,” Norman commented. “I wonder if we ought to wait until after twelve. Alice might be too busy with Mothers League to talk to us earlier.”
“I don’t think so,” Delores said quickly. “Once you get your shoes, or put on your own if you have them, there’s really nothing for Alice to do. She has automatic pin setting machines and automatic scoring machines. Unless they malfunction, Alice just sits on a stool behind the snack bar counter and reads a book.”
Hannah was shocked. As far as she knew, her mother didn’t bowl. “How do you know?” she asked.
“I’m on a Seniors’ League team with Bud Hauge, Joe Dietz, and Doc. We bowl every Sunday afternoon.”
Hannah managed to keep a straight face, but she couldn’t help imagining her mother flirting with all three men she was dating, and playing them off, one against the other.
“Is it like bowling for dollars?” Lisa asked. “Herb and I did that once.”
“In a way. Our league bowls for beer.”
“For beer?” Hannah was surprised. “But you don’t even like beer.”
“That’s true. The only time I ever liked it was once when I was dating your father. It was a really hot day, the beer was ice cold, and we were watching a softball game at the lake.”
“So what do you do if your team wins the beer?” Norman asked her.
“We give it to Joe. He likes beer. Doc doesn’t drink it and neither does Bud.”
“What does the Mothers League play for?” Lisa asked Andrea.
“Babysitting. The lowest scoring member on the losing team has to give two hours of babysitting to the highest scoring member of the winning team. Lucy got stuck with the Janowski twins last week.” Andrea lowered her voice even though no one was there except the five of them. “Lucy loves kids and she’s great with them, but she said the twins were holy terrors.”
Norman opened the glass door to Ali’s Alley for Hannah, who was armed with a bag of cookies for Alice. The din of loud female voices, bowling balls hitting the wooden surface with resounding thuds, and the good-natured catcalls between the team members rolled out to greet them.
“It’s noisy in here,” Hannah said. “I didn’t expect the Mothers League to be so noisy.”
“They make more noise than the men,” Alice said, coming over to greet them just in time to hear Hannah’s comment. “And you ought to hear the seniors. They’re positively rowdy.”
Hannah handed Alice the bag of cookies. “These are for you, Alice. Lisa made Raspberry Vinegar Cookies and she said they were your favorites.”
“Lisa’s right. They’re a lot like shortbread, and I love shortbread.” Alice turned to Norman. “You’re not pulling teeth today?”
“Not today. I’m helping Hannah.”
Just for a second, a puzzled expression crossed Alice’s face. And then her pale complexion turned even paler. “Matthew,” she said. “That’s why you’re here. You’re investigating Matthew’s murder.”
“I’m afraid so,” Hannah responded and then she recalled what Delores had said about never getting over your first love. “I’m sorry for your loss, Alice.”
“My loss?” Alice gave a bitter laugh. “My loss happened a week after graduation when Matthew left Lake Eden for good. I really thought that he’d at least come by to say goodbye, but …” she stopped speaking and swallowed hard. “That’s not important now. It’s all in the past and better off forgotten.”
Jilted. That’s a motive for murder. Hannah’s mind spun into high gear. Matthew disappointed her.
Maybe she even thinks he ruined her life, since she married Butch Vogel less than three months later and that didn’t turn out well at all.
Hannah mentally reviewed what she knew about Butch Vogel. He was a fast-talking, hard-drinking guy with more muscle than brain who hung out at the Eagle. If she remembered correctly, the marriage had lasted less than a year. There was a scandal involving Butch and one of the waitresses, and Alice had filed for divorce.
“Why so quiet, Hannah?” Alice asked her. “Are you trying to figure out if I killed Matthew?”
“Yes,” Hannah said. Alice had the reputation for saying exactly what was on her mind, and the only way to address such candor was to be just as outspoken herself. “It’s a good motive, Alice.”
“You bet it is! If he’d come back to Lake Eden during that first year, I might have actually done it. But now…? It’s too late, Hannah. Matthew was a different person, and so am I. Do you know I bought a new dress when I couldn’t really afford one just to impress him with how I’d kept my looks? I even had Bertie do a weave to cover up the gray in my hair.”
“I thought you looked different,” Norman said. “Your hair’s beautiful, Alice. Whatever a weave is, it looks good on you.”
Alice laughed. “Thanks! I wouldn’t expect a man to know what it is. Matthew noticed it, though. I know he did. He called me and invited me to to dinner on Monday night. I was excited about going out with him again. I was even going to go down to Claire’s on Monday morning and buy another new dress. But then …” she stopped and blinked several times. “Then I heard the news on KCOW radio and Jake and Kelly said that Matthew was dead.”
“Thanks for driving, Norman.” Hannah said as she slid into the passenger seat. “I’ve got to make some notes.”
Norman glanced over at her as he started the car. “You’re adding Alice to the suspect page?”
“Yes, but just so that I can cross her out. You don’t kill your high school boyfriend when he’s just asked you to go out with him again.”
“I don’t get it.” Norman pulled away from the curb and out into the street.
“What don’t you get?”
“Why you wrote down Alice’s name when you already knew you were going to cross her out.”
“It’s simple. It gives me a record of who I interviewed and why. Alice no longer has a motive, but she did until Matthew asked her to go out for dinner. And that reminds me. Do you have your cell phone handy?”
“Of course. Who do you want to call?”
“Sally. I want to see if Matthew made a reservation for Monday night. If he did, that’ll substantiate Alice’s story.”
“You think she’s lying?”
“No, but if Alice did kill Reverend Matthew, it would be a great cover-up, wouldn’t it?”
RASPBERRY VINEGAR COOKIES
Preheat oven to 325 degrees F., rack in the middle position.
1 cup (2 sticks, 8 ounces, ½ pound) salted butter, softened
1 cup white (granulated) sugar
1 teaspoon raspberry vinegar***
1 teaspoon baking soda 1 teaspoon rum extract****
1 and ½ cups all-purpose flour (pack it down in the cup and level it off)
1 cup chopped pecans (measure after chopping)
*** - If you can’t find raspberry vinegar in your store, you can use any fruit flavored vinegar or just plain old white vinegar. The vinegar is there to react with the baking soda, so any kind will do. I would caution against Balsamic. It has a heavy flavor that might not be good in these cookies. Then again, I haven’t tried it. It could be wonderful.
**** - If you don’t want to use rum extract, use any other flavor of extract you like, including vanilla.
Combine the softened butter and the sugar. Mix them until they’re light and fluffy. (You can do this with an electric mixer if you like.)
Add the raspberry vinegar and mix it in.
Add the baking soda and mix that in.
Add the rum extract and mix it in.
Add the cup and a half of all-purpose flour. Mix thoroughly.
Mix in the chopped pecans.
Drop by spoonfuls on a greased (I sprayed mine with Pam) baking sheet, 12 cookie mounds to a sheet. (Lisa and I used a 2-teaspoon scooper down at The Cookie Jar.)
Bake at 325 degrees F. for 18 to 20 minutes, or until slightly golden on top.
Remove from the oven and let the cookies cool on the cookie sheet for 2 minutes.
Transfer the cookies to a wire rack and let them cool completely.
Store these cookies in a cookie jar or an air-tight container so that they remain moist and soft.
Hannah’s Note: These cookies remind me of Lorna Doone shortbread cookies, except they’re better. If you’d like to experiment with them, try adding mini chocolate chips to a batch, or pressing a chocolate candy into the center of each cookie before you bake it.
Yield: approximately 3 and ½ dozen to 4 dozen sweet and buttery cookies, depending on cookie size.
Chapter Seventeen
Eden Lake was pretty in the winter. Actually, Eden Lake was pretty at any time of the year. During the spring, the water looked fresh and clear, surrounded by trees sprouting tiny new leaves in vivid green, and wildflowers gracing the banks. There were yellow and purple irises that someone had planted years ago, and white flowers called bloodroot that would stain your hands red if you snapped off the stems to pick them. Violets in pink and yellow nestled at the edges of the wooded hollows, and there were pussy willows with furry gray flowers called catkins. When Hannah was a child, she’d hoped that if she left them in water long enough, they’d turn into little cats. If you were very lucky in the spring and you had sharp eyes, you might catch a glimpse of a rare showy lady’s slipper, the Minnesota state flower, protected by law, and hidden in the damp, dark depths of the woods.
Summer was beautiful, too, bringing blooms to the area surrounding the lake. There were gypsy flowers along the sides of the gravel road that circled the shoreline, their small red blooms on the very ends of their stalks, waving at you with pretty little flags as you drove by. Gray-headed cornflowers vied for attention with their bright yellow blooms around dark gray centers. Field thistle joined them in the sunny areas, their blooms spotting the wild grasses with pink and purple color.
Then there was the lake, itself. The sparkling water was dotted with white and yellow water lilies, and yellow lotus. Norman had shown her one quiet inlet containing a veritable garden of aquatic color that someone had planted there years ago. The surface of the lake created a waving reflection of the trees and sky, and the sunsets were simply spectacular with their vivid oranges, pinks, and reds mirrored in the gently rippling waters.
Fall brought another kind of beauty to Eden Lake. Cattails thrived on the shoreline and in the shallow areas of the lake, standing tall in the autumn breezes. Bulrushes sported brownish flowers on the ends of their stems. Field thistle was still blooming. It would continue until cold weather set in, and heath aster with its white and yellow flowers bloomed on the dry hillsides. The water took on a greenish cast from the algae that multiplied in the last hot months of summer, and long-legged cranes patrolled the banks. Canada geese flew overhead in ragged vees, and the deciduous trees around the lake wore orange, yellow, red, and mahogany-colored leaves.
Then winter came, and everything except the evergreens donned black and white. Trees lifted their bare twisted branches heavenward to catch the rays of feeble winter sun, and the lake was covered with snow. Today the surface of the lake was a sheet of glistening white, unbroken but for the hillocks of snow formed by the wind. The glare was almost blinding, and Hannah looked down at her notebook again to rest her eyes. Hugh Kohler lived in the fourth cabin past the huge oak tree with a yellow Minnesota Breeder’s sign nailed to its trunk. It was a faded blue cabin, and someone had propped up the sagging front porch with cinderblocks.
“There’s the tree Doc told us about,” Hannah pointed to the huge oak with a faded sign on its trunk. “Hugh�
��s cabin is the fourth one on our right. It’s blue.”
Norman drove carefully, and Hannah was glad. The snow had blown across the gravel road in drifts that almost reached the hubcaps, and this was no place to get stuck! She hadn’t seen any cell phone transponders since they’d left the main road and not many people wintered at the lake. If they got hung up in a snowdrift and Hugh Kohler wasn’t home, they’d have to hike out to the road to get help.
“That’s it,” Hannah said as she spotted a faded blue cabin. “It’s the one with the moose antlers over the door.”
Norman took one look at the driveway and shook his head. “I don’t want to risk pulling in. Unless that’s a really short mailbox, the snow’s a lot deeper in the driveway.”
“That’s okay. I’m wearing my boots. How about you?”
“I’ve got mine in the back seat. They’re on the floor behind my seat. Can you reach them?”
Hannah reached back, retrieved the boots, and Norman pulled them on. Then she got out of the car and walked toward the house. Norman had been right. The snow was a lot deeper in the driveway, and Hannah was glad that they hadn’t attempted to drive up. It took a while to wade through the knee-deep drifts, but they managed to get to the door.
Norman knocked and Hannah pasted a smile on her face. She still wasn’t sure what questions to ask to determine whether Hugh was guilty or innocent, and she just hoped she could come up with something before the door opened.
A split second later, the door opened and Norman and Hannah blinked in shock as they found themselves staring down the twin barrels of a double-barreled shotgun.
“I’m really sorry about that,” Hugh said, “It’s just that it’s pretty isolated out here, and they still haven’t caught that murderer who escaped from Stillwater last week. I was listening to Jake and Kelly on the news this morning, and someone reported that they’d seen him around here.”
