Apple Turnover Murder hsm-13

by Joanne Fluke

  Michelle’s pancakes were legendary. She’d run the gamut of additions to her excellent pancake batter, quite literally from fruit to nuts. Lately she’d been experimenting with meats and cheeses, and this morning’s pancakes sounded like winners to Hannah. The thought of a tasty hot breakfast came close to making her actually want to get up and start her day.

  Once Michelle had left the room, Hannah wasted no time getting out of bed. She was late to work and she’d have to hurry. One lightning-quick shower, a moment with both toothbrush and hairbrush, a jump into her clothes, and Hannah found herself sitting at the kitchen table clutching a life-giving mug of what one set of her grandparents had called Swedish Plasma.

  “Here you go, Hannah.” Michelle set a plate on the table in front of her older sister. “They’ve got breakfast sausage and sharp cheddar cheese.”

  “They look wonderful!” Hannah picked up her fork, preparing to dig into the fragrant dish.

  “I’m all ready to go. Is there anything I can do for you while you’re eating?”

  “I don’t think…” Hannah stopped as she remembered her promise to Lisa. “Yes, there is. I need Rose’s recipe for Zucchini Cookies. Mother got it last Christmas at a cookie exchange.”

  “Mother baked cookies for a cookie exchange?!” Michelle looked completely shocked at the idea. As their mother so succinctly put it, she didn’t bake. Since Hannah had left home, the interior of her mother’s oven had seen the only two meals Delores ever made, Hawaiian Pot Roast and EZ Lasagna. Dinner at the Swensen family home consisted of entrée A or entrée B served with a tossed green salad, packaged dinner rolls that could be reheated in the microwave, and ice cream with jarred toppings for dessert.

  “No, Mother didn’t bake cookies for a cookie exchange. I baked cookies for Mother so that she could take them to her cookie exchange. The recipe should be in a yellow folder on the second to the bottom shelf in the living room bookcase.”

  “Zucchini Cookies. I’ve heard of zucchini bread, but never cookies. I’ll find it for you if I can have a copy.”

  “Of course,” Hannah said, except that it didn’t exactly sound that way since she was busy eating. Even so, Michelle must have understood the muffled assent because she gave a thumbs-up and went off to the living room bookcase to find the recipe.

  By the time Hannah had finished her second helping, Michelle was back with the recipe. When she noticed that Hannah had refilled her plate, a smile spread over her face. “That must mean you like my pancakes,” she said.

  “I love them. I don’t know why I never eat breakfast when I’m here alone. It’s my favorite meal. And it’s always wonderful when you make it for me.”

  “Thanks.” Michelle looked proud as she sat down at the table and began to copy the recipe for herself. “What’s on the docket for today? Mother said she could spare me if you need help with the turnovers.”

  “Thanks, but we should be okay. We’ve got double what we’ll need for the talent show tonight and we’ll reassess when it’s over.”

  “Are you sure? Mother doesn’t think there’ll be much business today since everyone will be at the charity luncheon.”

  “She’s going, isn’t she?”

  “Yes, but Luanne isn’t. She’s going to stay and work on the books. And Luanne said that since she’s going to be there anyway, there’s no reason for me to stay.”

  “Then come over to The Cookie Jar. You can always wait on customers while Lisa and I get a head start on tomorrow’s cookie dough.”

  “But aren’t you going to the luncheon?” Michelle asked, looking puzzled. “Mother said she gave you one of her tickets.”

  Hannah groaned. She’d forgotten all about the luncheon ticket her mother had given her.

  “You forgot?” Michelle guessed.

  “Completely. I wonder if Mother would mind if I gave it to Lisa. Samantha Summerfield is the guest speaker and she’s Lisa’s favorite actress.”

  “I don’t think Mother would mind. She likes Lisa and she’d probably enjoy having lunch with her. Besides, she knows you hate organized luncheons and you can hardly wait until they’re over.”

  “You’re right.” Hannah finished her pancakes and stood up. “Are you ready to go? The only thing I have left to do is give the cats food and fresh water.”

  “And all I have to do is get an outfit for the luncheon.”

  “You’re going, too?”

  “No, but Lisa might need something and I think we’re the same size. I’ll take an outfit of mine along just in case.”

  Lisa’s eyes began to sparkle and she gave a delighted laugh. “Your mother wants me to go with her?”

  “That’s what she said.”

  “But are you sure, Hannah? She bought the ticket for you.”

  “I’m sure.” Hannah found herself enjoying Lisa’s excitement about a thousand times more than she would have enjoyed the luncheon. She’d cleared the substitution with Delores, who had seemed very glad that Lisa, and not Hannah, would be attending the luncheon with her. “Mother told me she was looking forward to sitting next to you because if I went, I’d just fidget through the whole thing.”

  Lisa just stared at Hannah. “Would you really?”

  “Probably. I don’t like formal luncheons and I can’t stand guest speakers. They always go on and on until I’m bored stiff. I really didn’t want to go, Lisa. You’re doing me a big favor by taking my place.”

  “Oh, good! I’ve never been to a formal luncheon before. And I’ll actually get to see and hear Samantha Summerfield. I’m so lucky I can hardly believe it!” Lisa stopped speaking and gave a little sigh. “What shall I wear? I’ve only got one party dress. It’s the one you bought me two years ago. And it’s way too warm for summer.”

  “Michelle’s got that covered,” Hannah told her, pointing to the garment bag hanging on one of the hooks by the back door. “She picked out something just in case you didn’t want to run home and change. Go try it on.”

  Several minutes later, Lisa emerged from the miniscule bathroom and she was smiling. “We’re the same size. How does it look? I couldn’t get far enough away from the mirror in the bathroom to see.”

  “Gorgeous,” Hannah pronounced as Lisa turned around. The floral print dress with cap sleeves and full skirt was perfect for a garden luncheon.

  “I’d better go take it off before it gets chocolate or something just as bad on it.”

  “Just as bad?” Hannah teased. “Bite your tongue, Lisa. There’s nothing bad about chocolate!”

  Michelle had just come in to help Hannah handle the noon rush when Herb came in the front door. “Where’s Lisa?” he asked.

  “At the charity luncheon as Mother’s guest,” Hannah told him.

  “Wow. That’s nice of your mother to take her. She’s crazy about Samantha Summerfield.”

  “Coffee?” Michelle asked, holding out a cup.

  “Thanks.” Herb took the coffee and turned back to Hannah. “I need to talk to you, Hannah. I’ve got a big problem, and you’re the only one who can help me.”

  Hannah led the way to the kitchen, hoping that Herb’s problem had to do with what to get Lisa for her birthday, or how to make dog biscuits at home. She could handle both of those. There was bound to be a recipe for dog biscuits online, and she knew the brand of perfume that Lisa loved. But from the frown on Herb’s face, she sensed the problem was a bit more serious than that.

  “Can Dillon come in?” Herb asked her. “He’s out in the back in the car.”

  “Sure, as long as I can whistle for him this time. I want to see if I can do it.”

  Herb removed the dog whistle from his pocket and handed it to her. Then he went to open the back door. “Three whistles and a pause. And then two more whistles.”

  “Got it.” Hannah put the whistle to her lips and blew on it three times. She waited a moment and then she blew twice more.

  There was a thump as Dillon hit the pavement. A few seconds later he was through the open door and r
acing up to them. He skidded to a stop at Hannah’s feet and looked up at her.

  “He knows I blew the whistle?” she asked, incredulous.

  “Yes, but that’s because it’s still in your hand. Give him a pat and tell him he’s a good boy.”

  “Good boy, Dillon,” Hannah said, patting the top of his head and rubbing his ears. “Hold on a second and I’ll give Daddy a treat to give to you.”

  A few moments later, Herb was settled on a stool at the stainless steel workstation and Dillon was stretched out on the floor next to him, chewing his dog treat.

  “Now tell me what’s wrong,” Hannah said, setting a plate of the Zucchini Cookies she’d just made in front of Herb.

  “I need a favor. A big one.” He delayed their dialogue by taking a bite of his cookie. “These are good,” he said. “What are they?”

  “Zucchini Cookies.” Hannah realized that Herb wasn’t eager to go into details about that favor he needed. She was equally uneager to hear those details, but there was no time like the present. “What’s the favor?”

  “It’s my cousin Mary Kate,” Herb said. “She’s got the flu and she can’t be more than a couple of seconds away from the…” Herb stopped and cleared his throat. “Trust me. You don’t want to hear the details.”

  “You’re right. I don’t. So what does Mary Kate have to do with this favor you need?”

  “Mary Kate is Amazing Herb’s assistant.”

  Hannah groaned. She couldn’t help it. She’d promised herself she’d never agree to be Herb’s magic show assistant again.

  “I know you don’t like helping me out with the act,” Herb said, sighing deeply. “I can’t blame you for that. It’s not much fun getting into the Cabinet of Death. But Lisa can’t do it. She’s just too claustrophobic. And nobody else except Mary Kate knows the act. Could you be my assistant just once more, Hannah? I’m begging you. Otherwise I’ll have to drop out of the talent show tonight.”

  Hannah took a deep breath and told herself to hold firm. And then she glanced at Herb. He looked unbelievably plaintive, so she switched her gaze to Dillon. Dear heavens! There were two of them! Two sets of begging puppy-dog eyes! Herb’s entreating orbs reminded her of a basset hound pleading for a pat on the head. And Dillon’s eyes were as sad as a grieving widow’s, so desolate that Hannah could swear she saw tears glistening in their depths.

  “Okay,” she said, bowing to the inevitable.

  “You mean…you’ll do it?”

  “Yes. If I don’t help you out, your dog’s going to cry. And if there’s one thing I can’t stand in this world, it’s a crying puppy dog.”

  SAUSAGE AND CHEESE PANCAKES

  Preheat oven to the lowest possible setting, rack in the middle position.

  1 large egg

  1 cup unflavored yogurt

  ¼ cup cream

  2 Tablespoons vegetable oil

  2 teaspoons baking powder

  ½ teaspoon baking soda

  ¼ teaspoon salt

  1 cup all-purpose flour

  (pack it down in the cup when you measure it)

  ½ cup ground

  fried

  breakfast sausage, broken up into small pieces

  1 cup shredded sharp cheddar cheese

  (approximately 4 ounces)

  Beat the egg with a wire whisk in a medium-sized bowl until it’s fluffy.

  Whisk in the yogurt, cream, and the vegetable oil.

  In a small bowl, combine the baking powder, baking soda, and salt with the flour. Stir it around with a fork until it’s evenly distributed.

  Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients and stir well.

  Michelle’s Note: At this point you can stop and refrigerate your pancake batter overnight. Then all you have to do is give it a good stir in the morning, add your sausage and your cheese, and fry your pancakes. If you decide to do this, don’t preheat your oven until you’re ready to fry in the morning.

  Add the fried sausage and shredded cheese to your batter, and stir in thoroughly.

  If you’re using an electric griddle, spray it with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray and preheat it to the pancake setting. If you’re using a griddle on the stovetop or a large frying pan, spray it with Pam and heat it over medium-high heat. It’s the perfect temperature when a few drops of water, sprinkled on the surface with your fingers, skitter around and then evaporate.

  If you want to pour your pancakes onto the griddle, transfer the batter to a pitcher. If you’d prefer to dip a large spoon or a small cup into the bowl and transfer the batter to the griddle that way, that’s fine, too. (I use a quarter-cup plastic measure that has a little spout on the side–when I pour the batter onto the griddle, approximately 3 Tablespoons come out and 1 Tablespoon sticks to the sides, which is perfect!)

  Fry your pancakes until they’re puffed and dry around the edges. If you look closely, little bubbles will form at the edges. If you’re not sure they’re done, lift one edge with a spatula and take a peek. It will be golden brown on the bottom when it’s ready to flip.

  Turn your pancakes and wait for the other side to fry. Again, you can test your pancake by lifting it slightly with a spatula and peeking to see if it’s golden brown.

  If you don’t have a horde of people sitting at your table waiting to eat those pancakes and you want to keep them warm until everyone comes to the breakfast table, put them in a 9-inch by 13-inch cake pan, separated by paper towels, and slip them into a warm oven set at the lowest temperature until your sleepyheads arrive.

  Hannah’s Note: Mike likes these with maple syrup. Norman prefers them plain with a pat of butter on top. Mother likes them with a dollop of sour cream on top and Michelle and I just love to fry an egg sunny-side up with the yolk still runny and slip that on top of a stack of pancakes.

  Yield: Approximately one dozen medium-sized pancakes.

  Chapter Nine

  The phone rang at precisely twelve-thirty, just as Hannah had made the rounds of the tables with the coffee carafe. Michelle answered and a moment later she motioned to Hannah. “It’s Marge Beeseman,” she said as Hannah took the receiver.

  “Herb says you don’t have your purple dress anymore,” Marge stated, wasting no time on preliminaries.

  “That’s right. After I…um…retired as Herb’s assistant, I didn’t think I’d need it again.”

  “Can you get it back?” Marge got straight to the point.

  “No.” Hannah didn’t bother to explain that she’d stuck it in a bag and given it to a group of Jordan High students who’d come to her door asking for used clothing and household items for their class rummage sale.

  “Well, don’t worry. Patsy will take over for me at the library this afternoon so Jack and I can go look for dresses at Helping Hands. That’s where we got that lovely purple dress, you know.”

  “I know,” Hannah said, and left it at that.

  “We’ll do things the same as we did the last time. We’ll pick out several dresses in your size and bring them over to you around three this afternoon. You can try them on, choose the one you want, and we’ll take the others back to the thrift shop.”

  “That’s fine. Thank you, Marge. I really appreciate it.”

  “And I really appreciate how you’re helping Herb. He was just beside himself when Mary Kate’s mother called and said she had the flu.”

  Hannah said goodbye and hung up the phone. There was a smile on her face when she turned back to Michelle. “Marge and Jack are going shopping at Helping Hands for me.”

  “To pick out a magician’s assistant dress?”

  “That’s right. I don’t know what time Lisa will get back so can you stay until I try them on?”

  “I can stay for the rest of the day if you need me.”

  “Great. I hope they can find something nice this time. That purple dress I wore at the fair was a horror.”

  “What happened to it?” Florence Evans asked. She was sitting at the counter waiting for the box of Cinnamon Crisp
s Michelle was packing for Florence’s checkers at the Red Owl. It was clear that Florence had been listening to what they’d been saying. She wasn’t the type to make a pretence of politely ignoring their conversation.

  “That dress is history,” Hannah told her. “I donated it to the Jordan High rummage sale.”

  “Was it really that bad?” Michelle asked.

  “It was worse. Some redheads can wear purple and other redheads can’t. I’m the kind of redhead that can’t.”

  “Hannah’s right,” Bertie Straub said, leaning over to join their conversation. “You should have come down to the Cut ’n Curl before you went onstage with Herb. I’ve got a rinse that’s guaranteed to tone down the color in your hair.”

  “That’s good to know,” Hannah said, wondering if it was the same rinse that gave several of Bertie’s regular silver-haired customers blue hair. “Thanks for the offer, Bertie, but I won’t have to worry about wearing that awful purple dress ever again!”

  “Samantha Summerfield is a fascinating speaker,” Lisa said, stepping quickly to the walk-in cooler with the bowl of Molasses Cookie dough that she’d just mixed. “She told us all about a day in the life of a Hollywood star. It’s not all glamour, you know. When she’s shooting a movie or a television show, the car picks her up at five in the morning so she can get to the studio and be in makeup at six.”

  “That doesn’t sound bad to someone who gets up at four-thirty and drives herself to work,” Hannah said.

  “You’re right!” Lisa said, giggling a little. “I completely forgot that we do that every day!”

  Hannah turned to smile at her young partner. Lisa had talked nonstop ever since she’d returned to The Cookie Jar. Hannah had heard all about the delicious luncheon, what a wonderful time she’d had talking to Delores, and the tidbits of information she’d learned about her favorite movie star.

  “You really should have gone, Hannah. I just know you would have enjoyed yourself.”

  “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.”