Apple Turnover Murder hsm-13

by Joanne Fluke

  Michelle didn’t waste any time thinking. “You’re right. Sit down and I’ll get yours. And I’ll have another cup with you.”

  “You know, it’s just amazing how alert I feel. And I haven’t even had my first cup of coffee.”

  “Sleep will do that to you. You should really try it more often.” Michelle handed Hannah her coffee cup and sat down at the table with her.

  The two sisters sipped in companionable silence for several minutes, and then Hannah spoke. “What are your plans for the day?”

  “Mother doesn’t need me, so I thought I’d run out to the college and talk to Tim Pearson if I can borrow your truck.”

  “Ride in to work with me and you can have it. Just make sure you’re back before the Donkey Baseball Game.”

  “When is that?”

  “It starts at three and lasts until six. Then there’s a barbecue and pizza feed in the big tent on the football field.”

  “And after that is the auction…right?”

  “Right. I know Mother was resisting. Did Stephanie end up talking her into donating something?”

  “Yes, she did. Mother gave her a carved umbrella stand. It’s ebony and Luanne got it at an estate sale in Edina.”

  “Sounds nice.”

  “It isn’t. The carving is well done, but there are grotesque-looking rodents all over it. Mother’s never been able to sell it, so she decided to give it to Stephanie and take the write-off.”

  “Smart move,” Hannah said, downing the last of her coffee and standing up. “Let’s get ready to go. I want to take a look at that umbrella stand for myself. I might just bid on it for Moishe.”

  Lisa looked shocked as Hannah came in the back door of the shop. “It’s only nine o’clock. You didn’t have to come in this early.”

  “Yes, I did. I wanted you to see how alert I am before I get tired again.”

  Lisa laughed. “Marge baked her Cottage Cheese Cookies this morning. I’ll bring you a couple.”

  Hannah poured herself a cup of coffee from the kitchen pot and sat down at the stainless steel workstation. Lisa brought her two cookies on a napkin and sat down across from her.

  “Very good,” Hannah said after one bite. “How did Herb’s meeting with the mayor go?”

  “Just fine. He’s going to start patrolling the cemetery this afternoon. He’s going to do a drive-through every two hours in the afternoon and increase it to once every hour when it gets dark out.”

  “He’s not going to patrol all night, is he?” Hannah asked, hoping Mayor Bascomb wasn’t expecting his town marshal to go without sleep.

  “Just for the first two nights. And that’s because Friday and Saturday nights are popular date nights. The mayor figures the news will spread pretty quickly and parking in the cemetery will lose its appeal.”

  “But how can the mayor possibly expect Herb to go two nights without sleep?”

  Lisa laughed. “I guess I forgot to tell you. Mayor Bascomb relieved Herb of all his other duties until the city maintenance crew can put up motion lights. They promised him the lights would be up and working by Sunday afternoon. They’re sending a man out there this morning to take photos and measurements. They did the same thing with the road past the apple orchard. They put up motion lights.”

  “I wonder where the kids will move next?” Hannah mused. “And I also wonder if Mayor Bascomb owns stock in any motion light company.”

  The next two hours passed quickly while Hannah baked. She was about to mix up a batch of Mystery Cookies when Lisa came in from the coffee shop.

  “Norman’s here to see you,” she said. “Shall I tell him to come back here to the kitchen?”

  “Yes, please,” Hannah said, wondering why Norman hadn’t simply parked in her spot and come in the kitchen door.

  It appeared that Norman had been waiting very close to the door for Lisa’s summons, because Lisa left and only a second or two later, he pushed through the door.

  “Hi, Norman. Coffee?”

  “I’d love some. Thanks. Is it okay if I sit here?”

  Hannah nodded when Norman pointed to a stool at the workstation. It was the same stool where he usually sat. Either Norman had suffered some unfortunate memory loss that had erased all recollection of their former relationship, or he was withdrawing again.

  “Here you go,” Hannah said, setting his coffee in front of him. “How about a cookie?”

  “That would be nice. Whatever you’ve got is fine.”

  Hannah placed a Molasses Crackle and a Black and White on a napkin and handed them to Norman. And then, because she was frustrated with what she thought of as a subterfuge, she asked, “What’s wrong, Norman?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Since he’d dropped his eyes, Hannah could tell he knew exactly what she meant, but she decided to spell it out for him. “Sometimes you’re warm and loving, just like you were before the wedding. But other times, like now, you’re cold and distant. You’re perfectly polite, but you’re treating me like a stranger.”

  “Fair enough.” Norman signed deeply. “I’m sorry, Hannah. It’s a personal problem I’m trying to work out. It has nothing to do with you.”

  “But it affects me.”

  “Yes. It does.” He was silent for a moment and then he gave her a little smile. “Just try to be patient with me. I’ll work it out eventually.”

  “And then things will return to normal?”

  “I hope so. Just give me a little time, Hannah. That’s all I ask. Will you do that for me”

  “Of course,” Hannah said. What else could she say? But she was left with a vague and unsatisfactory answer to what was obviously a big problem. Rather than dwell on it and make both of them miserable, she smiled brightly and asked, “What did you learn from Kyle Williamson? I’ve been on pins and needles, waiting to hear.”

  “I learned a lot.” Norman returned her smile. “I like him and I think the feeling’s mutual. At least he really opened up to me. He reminds me of me at that age. A little nerdy, a little bit too non-athletic to be very popular with the girls, and a little too eager to speak up in class when he knows the answer.”

  “He sounds like a kid I might like,” Hannah ventured.

  “You would. And he’s not really a kid. He’s got a degree in music from Juilliard, but it’s like he says, there’s not much work for a concert pianist who came in fourth in the important competitions and didn’t quite make the concert circuit. You know what I mean?”

  “I do know. I thought for a while that I wanted to write poetry. I cared so much and I tried so hard. I put my heart on the page, but I just wasn’t good enough.”

  “Do you still have any of your poetry?”

  “It’s probably kicking around somewhere in the guest room closet.”

  “If you’re willing, I’d like to read it sometime.”

  “Maybe sometime,” Hannah said, wondering if that would ever come to pass. She couldn’t help but doubt the depth of their relationship. Right now, at this moment, Norman was his old self. But he could change in an instant to that distant stranger.

  “I painted,” Norman said. And then he was silent. Hannah wondered if he were wishing he hadn’t revealed that about himself.

  “What did you paint?” she asked.

  “Houses.” Norman waited for a beat and then he chuckled. “Gotcha! You’re thinking house painter, right?”

  “Yes, I was. But you painted…?”

  “Cityscapes mostly. I concentrated on urban architecture. Houses, apartment buildings, landmarks…that type of thing. Mine were a bit different than most because the frame was always a window. And occasionally the perspective was not from the window itself, but from a point across the room from the window.”

  Hannah stared at Norman in amazement. She’d seen several paintings of that description in the house Norman had built. She’d assumed they were prints of famous works, or original oils purchased for their investment potential. “The belfry?” she asked referring to the pai
nting she’d noticed hanging in his study.

  “The bell tower at Notre Dame. I painted it after a trip I took as a student. It’s my last one.”

  “But it’s beautiful. I love it. Why did you stop painting?”

  “I’m a lot like Kyle. I realized I wasn’t good enough to make a decent living at it, so I went to dental school.”

  “That doesn’t mean you have to give up painting. You could paint on the weekends, or at night, or whenever. You don’t have to stop creating!”

  “I might take it up again someday…as a hobby. But the fire to succeed as an artist of note is gone.”

  “But you shouldn’t just give up. You should…”

  “Do you still write poetry?” Norman interrupted her with a question.

  “I…I…no. I haven’t written anything since I left college.”

  “Point made,” Norman said.

  “Point taken,” Hannah replied. “I just wish that…”

  “Another time. Don’t you want to hear why Kyle flunked Professor Ramsey’s Intro to Poetry class?”

  Hannah nodded, pulling herself out of her self-indulgent dream, where they traveled to wonderfully scenic places so that Norman could paint and she could write. “Tell me,” she said.

  “Kyle told me his girlfriend broke up with him right before Christmas. She said she was in love with Professor Ramsey.”

  “Oh, no!” Hannah said, feeling sorry for the jilted student.

  “They’d both enrolled in his Intro to Poetry class, and Kyle convinced himself that it was just a passing thing and she’d come around as soon as she saw that he still loved her. The first day of class rolled around, and Kyle managed to sit next to her, but she wouldn’t even speak to him. That was the way things went for the first week of class. Kyle kept trying, and she kept refusing to have anything to do with him. He said he had to watch her flirting with Ramsey and that it was really hard to take.”

  “I can imagine that! Poor Kyle.”

  “And then Professor Ramsey started singling her out for things, keeping her after class, and inviting her to visit his home campus at Macalester. Kyle could tell she was falling completely under his spell, and he just couldn’t stand to watch it any longer.”

  “So he started skipping classes, even when there were tests?” Hannah guessed.

  “That’s about the size of it. Once he realized that Professor Ramsey was returning his girlfriend’s overtures, he stopped going to class altogether. It was just too painful to watch them interact. He would have dropped the class, but it was too late to drop, so he just took the failing grade.”

  “That’s really sad.”

  “I know.” Norman gave another little sigh. “He was very stoic about it. And he was also very convincing.”

  “Convincing?”

  “He convinced me that he still loved his girlfriend and he was hoping to get her back now that Professor Ramsey was dead.”

  “Did he tell you the name of his girlfriend?”

  “No. I asked, but he didn’t want to say. And I didn’t think I’d better push it or he’d clam up and stop answering my questions.”

  Hannah was silent for minute, digesting all that she’d learned. “He’s certainly got a motive, especially if he thinks he can get his girlfriend back now that his rival’s dead. What about Wednesday night? Does he have an alibi?”

  “Yes, and it’s a good one. There’s no way Kyle could have killed Professor Ramsey since he was hundreds of miles away from the scene of the crime. He flew out to Arizona State University on Wednesday morning to watch his sister graduate, and his parents were with him. They were all having dinner at T. Cooks at the Royal Palms Hotel when Professor Ramsey was killed.”

  COTTAGE CHEESE COOKIES

  DO NOT preheat oven—This dough needs to chill in the refrigerator overnight.

  2 cups softened butter***

  (4 sticks, 16 ounces, 1 pound)

  1 and ½ cups brown sugar

  (pack it down in the measuring cup)

  2 cups white

  (granulated)

  sugar

  4 large beaten eggs

  (just whip them up in a glass with a fork)

  1 teaspoon baking soda

  2 teaspoons baking powder

  ½ teaspoon salt

  4 teaspoons vanilla extract

  (that’s 1 Tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon)

  2 cups cottage cheese

  (one-pound container) (I used small curd)

  1 cup chopped pecans

  (you can use walnuts or any other nut, if you prefer)

  1 cup cocoa powder

  (I used Hershey’s)

  5 and ½ cups all-purpose flour

  (don’t sift—just scoop it up with the measuring cup and level it off with a knife)

  ——————

  approximately 1 cup powdered

  (confectioner’s)

  sugar for rolling dough balls

  ***That’s room temperature butter, unless you’re working in an unheated kitchen in Minnesota in the winter.

  Hannah’s 1stNote: If you have an electric mixer, use it. This recipe makes about 12 dozen cookies and your arm may get tired. You can also cut the recipe in half if you like.

  In a large mixing bowl, mix the butter with the brown sugar and the white sugar. Beat them together until they’re light and fluffy.

  Add the eggs and mix until they’re thoroughly incorporated. If you’re using an electric mixer, you don’t have to whip them up in a glass first. You can just add them one by one, mixing after each egg is added.

  Mix in the baking soda, baking powder, and salt. Stir until they’re completely mixed in.

  Pour in the vanilla extract. Stir it in thoroughly.

  Stir in the cottage cheese. Keep mixing until it’s thoroughly incorporated.

  Mix in the chopped pecans. (Marge says you can also add raisins, if you like.)

  Add the cocoa powder in quarter-cup increments (don’t worry about measuring accurately—just add it in 4 parts). Mix it in after every quarter-cup. Cocoa powder is very difficult to clean up, so don’t add it all at once or it will poof out the sides of your bowl and make a real mess.

  Add the flour in half-cup increments. (It can also make a mess if it poofs out the sides of your bowl.) Mix after each addition.

  Give the bowl a final stir, cover it with plastic wrap, and stick it in the refrigerator to chill overnight.

  When you’re ready to bake:

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

  Spray cookie sheets with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray. You can also use parchment paper if you prefer.

  Roll small balls of dough about one-inch in diameter. Roll the balls in powdered sugar and place them on the cookie sheets, 12 to a standard-size sheet. Press them down slightly when you position them so that they won’t roll off on the way to the oven.

  Hannah’s 2ndNote: When Lisa and I bake these cookies at The Cookie Jar, we use white, granulated sugar for rolling instead of powdered sugar. That way we don’t confuse them with our Black And White Cookies.

  Bake the Cottage Cheese Cookies at 350 degrees F. for 10 minutes. They’ll spread out all by themselves. Leave them on the cookie sheet for 2 minutes and then remove them to a wire rack to cool completely.

  Hannah’s 3rdNote: Put on a pot of coffee while the first pans of Cottage Cheese Cookies are baking. And check the refrigerator to make sure you’ve got plenty of icy cold milk for the kids. Everybody’s going to gobble these up and ask for more.

  Yield: 12 dozen (depending on cookie size, of course) yummy and addictive cookies that everyone in the family will enjoy.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  She’d stared at the page of suspects for five minutes now, and nothing new had occurred to her. There were Bradford’s ex-wives, but Mike had eliminated both of them as potential killers. Mayor and Stephanie Bascomb had been cleared, and so had Kyle Williamson. There was Samantha Summerfield, who’d been heard arguing w
ith the victim, but Mike had talked to her driver and then confirmed her alibi. It was possible that Mike might find and interview several students and colleagues at Macalester who weren’t shedding any tears for the murdered professor, but Hannah doubted any of them had driven to Lake Eden to kill him.

  Her coffee mug was empty. Hannah got up to refill it and returned to her perusal of the names on her list. Their strongest suspect to date was Tim Pearson. Bradford had claimed Tim’s work as his own and then failed to keep his end of their bargain. Hannah couldn’t blame Tim for putting such a permanent end to their academic relationship. Unfortunately, murder was unpleasant, immoral, and illegal, even in the hallowed halls of higher learning.

  With the exception of Tim, there was only one other person on Hannah’s list, the one who appeared on every one of her suspect lists. It was Suspect U, the unidentified suspect who’d murdered the victim for an unknown motive.

  Hannah was sitting there, staring down at the two suspects she’d hadn’t crossed out when Lisa came in from the coffee shop.

  “Marguerite Hollenbeck’s here to see you,” she announced. “She says she has cookies for you.”

  Hannah was always glad to see one of her neighbors from the condo complex, but this was a neighbor bearing cookies. Wasn’t that a little like taking coals to Newcastle, or to put it in more modern parlance, bringing a picnic to a restaurant?

  “Shall I send her back to see you?” Lisa asked.

  “Yes, please.”

  “Good. I can hardly wait to hear about her cookies.”

  Hannah was still trying to come up with the best simile when Marguerite came into the kitchen. “Hi, Marguerite. Lisa said you brought cookies for me?”

  “Yes. You probably think it’s like bringing a Holy Bible to a minister, but these are special cookies.”

  Marguerite had out-similied her with her church reference. Hannah fetched them both coffee from the kitchen pot, and they sat down at the workstation. Marguerite was smiling and Hannah knew precisely how her mother would describe it in Regency terms. It was the smile of the cat that had got into the cream pot. “What makes them special?” Hannah asked the question that Marguerite was obviously waiting to hear.