Blackberry Pie Murder (A Hannah Swensen Mystery)

by Fluke, Joanne

  Norman was already in the courtroom. He had been seated near the front when Howie had led Hannah in. Norman had smiled at her and given her the high sign, and Hannah had done her best to smile back.

  The rustling of papers was loud in the silent courtroom as Judge Colfax read through the agenda. It was as if everyone was holding his or her breath, waiting for something to happen. A moment later, there was murmuring from the few spectators who were there and Hannah turned to see Mike enter the courtroom. A couple of the spectators glared at him, and Hannah suspected that Mike had been one of the officers who’d arrested their family member or loved one.

  Hannah turned toward the front again. She’d looked at Mike, but he hadn’t met her eyes. Why was that? Did he know something that she didn’t know? Or was she simply being paranoid? She sent up a silent plea that the reason was her own paranoia.

  Everyone who had told her they were coming was here. She’d known that Doc Knight wouldn’t be here. He had surgery scheduled for seven this morning and it wouldn’t be over yet. Michelle and Lisa had come to see her yesterday and explained that they would be at The Cookie Jar, handling the morning customers, but that Delores would call them the moment the arraignment was over.

  Howie motioned to her and Hannah leaned closer so that he could whisper in her ear. “Relax,” he said. “You look like a deer caught in the headlights.”

  “That’s because I am a deer caught in the headlights,” Hannah whispered back.

  “Not for long. It’ll be over soon, Hannah. Just remember that when the judge asks you how you plead, you say, Not guilty, Your Honor. Don’t say any more, and don’t say any less. Just say, Not guilty, Your Honor. Are we clear on that?”

  “Yes,” Hannah said, and then she added, “Did you bring Judge Colfax his coffee this morning?”

  “I did, and it was an extra-large mocha, exactly what he likes. Stop worrying, Hannah. We should be just fine.”

  Hannah thought about saying, That’s easy for you to say. Even if things weren’t fine, Howie wouldn’t be the one who was locked up in jail. That would be her, and she had a perfect right to be worried. And then the bailiff was calling her name and Howie was motioning for her to stand up and face Judge Colfax on legs that were suddenly trembling like leaves in a windstorm.

  The bailiff read the charges and Hannah did her best not to listen. There were more than she’d thought there would be, ranging from misdemeanors to a final charge of vehicular homicide. And then Howie was prodding her. The judge must have asked her how she pled. And Hannah said, “Not guilty, Your Honor,” and clamped her lips shut.

  Her words hung in the silent air and the room began to revolve slowly around her. Hannah knew she was close to fainting as Howie asked for bail. There was a buzzing in her ears that made listening impossible and she gripped the edge of the defense table tightly to keep from falling back into her chair. The judge wouldn’t like that. She had to show the proper respect and keep standing and facing him with a polite and servile expression, even though she was weak-kneed and dizzy, and she’d never been so scared in her life.

  The moment seemed to go on forever, as if the clock on the wall had stopped and everyone was frozen in place. And through the buzzing in her ears and the gulps of air she was taking so that she wouldn’t do anything foolish like faint dead away, she heard the judge say, “Bail in the amount of fifty thousand dollars is granted. See the clerk.”

  His gavel banged loudly against the wooden surface, and then Howie turned to take her arm. “It’s over, Hannah. I told you it would be all right. An officer of the court will escort you to the clerk’s office and stay with you there while your mother makes bail. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to be handcuffed until your bail is paid. It’s not a secure area.”

  “That’s okay,” Hannah said, feeling a huge wave of relief wash over her, now that this part of her ordeal was over. “And once Mother pays my bail, they’ll take off the handcuffs and I’ll be free to go?”

  “That’s right. You’ll be free to go.”

  Hannah turned so that the officer of the court could put on the handcuffs and guide her through a side door. She was afraid to say a word for fear it would be something that might hurt her later.

  She stumbled once, walking down the hall, and the officer gripped her arm. “Hey! Are you okay?”

  “I . . . I think so.”

  “You should be. You’re almost out of here. Your family went to the clerk’s office to pay your bail and that’s where we’re going. I’ll take these cuffs off the minute the paperwork’s done.”

  Hannah swallowed hard. “Thanks. I was really scared. I’ve never been in court before.”

  The officer gave a little laugh. “I figured that. I saw your legs shaking when you stood up, and I was all ready to catch you if you passed out.”

  Hannah turned to look at the female officer, who couldn’t have weighed over a hundred pounds. “Thanks, but I probably would have taken you down with me.”

  “Not me,” the officer said. “I’ve caught bigger ones than you and eased them down to the floor so they didn’t hurt themselves.”

  They walked down the hallway in tandem for a few steps and then the officer spoke again. “You lucked out, that’s for sure. I’ve never seen Judge Colfax give bail that light before.”

  “Really?” Hannah turned to her in shock. “I thought fifty thousand was a lot.”

  “Oh, no. Don’t forget you only have to put up ten percent and sign a note for the rest. That’s only five thousand. All the other homicide cases I’ve heard have been over a hundred thousand and more.”

  Hannah knew enough not to comment. To her, five thousand dollars seemed like a huge amount.

  “Here we are,” the officer said, opening the door and ushering Hannah in. “We stay in here, but the door is open to the clerk’s office and you can hear what’s going on. Sorry, but I have to stay with you.”

  “That’s okay,” Hannah said quickly. “I’m glad you’re here. I’ve been all alone in a cell and I appreciate the company.”

  The officer turned to look at her in shock. “Nobody’s ever told me that before! I can’t do anything for you, you know. If your family doesn’t make bail, I can’t intercede.”

  “Oh, no. I wasn’t thinking that at all. I’m just glad I have somebody to talk to.” Hannah watched as a smile played over the officer’s lips. And then she asked a question. “You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to, but do you like your job? I’m just curious, that’s all.”

  “I like it. It pays well and I’m a county employee. I get good bennies. That means a lot because my husband is out of work now.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Hannah said, feeling immediately sympathetic. “What kind of work does he do?”

  “He’s an auto mechanic.”

  Hannah thought fast. Lisa had mentioned that one of Cyril’s mechanics had quit and he was looking for a replacement. “I don’t know where you live, but is Lake Eden too far for him to drive?”

  “No.” The officer gave a little laugh. “We live out in the country and Lake Eden’s only about ten miles. My husband’s been applying for jobs all over the state. He even put out feelers in the Cities. He’s got a sister down there and he figured he could stay with her during the week and come back home on weekends.”

  “Do you have a pen?” Hannah asked. “I think I have a lead for your husband.”

  The officer drew a pen from the pocket of her uniform, and reached into her other pocket for a small notebook. “That would be great. What is it?”

  “Murphy’s Motors in Lake Eden. They just lost one of their mechanics, and my partner said they were looking for someone to replace him. If your husband calls Cyril Murphy, tell him to say that Hannah Swensen recommended him for the job.”

  “I’ll tell him to do that.” The officer looked excited at the prospect of work for her husband so close to their home. “Thanks a lot, Miss Swensen. I appreciate it.”

  Hannah sat down in the
chair the officer indicated and turned toward the open door to the clerk’s office. Her mother was standing at the counter with her checkbook in her hand.

  “What do you mean, you won’t take a check?” Delores said, sounding irate. “I have ten times that in my account. Just call the bank and see.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we can’t take checks. We’re not allowed. It’s cash, money order, or cashier’s check only.” The clerk pointed to a sign on the desk that listed the approved ways to pay bail.

  Hannah could read the sign from her chair in the waiting room. NO PERSONAL CHECKS. CASH, CASHIERS’ CHECKS, OR MONEY ORDERS ONLY. NO EXCEPTIONS.

  “That’s ridiculous. I’m the mother-in-law of the Winnetka County Sheriff. Do you really think I’d give you a bad check?”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am,” the clerk stood firm. “We’re not allowed to take personal checks.”

  Andrea stepped up to the counter. “My mother’s upset,” she said. “Surely you can understand that. This is the first time anyone in our family has ever been in court, and we didn’t know about the rules for paying my sister’s bail.”

  “I understand,” the clerk said, “and I wish I could help you, but I can’t take a personal check. It’s not allowed.”

  “But I’m Andrea Todd, and I’m the wife of the Winnetka County Sheriff, Bill Todd. I’ll personally guarantee that my mother’s check is good.”

  The clerk looked as if she wished she were anywhere but standing behind the counter, but she shook her head. “I’m sure it’s good, but I’m not allowed to accept it. Your sister will have to stay here in jail until you can produce cash, a money order, or a cashier’s check for the entire amount. It’s the rule and I’m not allowed to make any exceptions.”

  Delores pursed her lips and Hannah knew her mother’s expression well. She was about to give the clerk a piece of her mind. Andrea stood by, seemingly a helpless witness to what was about to happen, and Hannah sent up a silent prayer that her mother would calm down. If Delores insulted the clerk or caused a scene, she might be the next person who had to go in front of Judge Colfax!

  And that was when the white knight arrived, striding into the clerk’s office. “Let me,” Norman said, silencing Delores with a glance and taking her arm. “I’ve got this handled.”

  Hannah watched in amazement as he turned to the clerk and gave her a smile. “Sorry for the trouble. They didn’t realize how the system works, but I’m here to make Miss Swensen’s bail.”

  “Thank you, sir,” the clerk sounded very relieved. “Ten percent of the bail for Miss Swensen is five thousand dollars. You’ll have to put up collateral for the rest.”

  “I’m prepared to do that,” Norman said. Then he opened his wallet and drew out several cashier’s checks. “I have one for five thousand dollars right here,” he told the clerk, handing it over. “And if you give me the papers, I’ll sign over my house for collateral.”

  The clerk examined the check and quickly wrote out a receipt. Then she handed Norman some papers, which he signed. “You’re all set, sir. Miss Swensen may leave the courthouse.”

  My hero! Hannah thought, remembering the caption from a silent movie they’d seen only a few nights ago. The handsome hero had rescued the beautiful young woman that the villain had tied to the railroad tracks. She’d called him her hero as he’d untied her and lifted her into his arms. While it was true that she wasn’t a beautiful young woman and Norman wasn’t a handsome young man, he was still her hero.

  The clerk stamped the papers and then she nodded at the officer in the other room. “Miss Swensen’s bail has been met. Once you read her the restrictions and she collects her personal items, she is free to go.”

  “I’ll meet you out front,” Norman said, coming up to pat her shoulder. “Do you need help with your things?”

  I can manage. Just keep the motor running for a quick getaway before the judge changes his mind, Hannah thought, but she didn’t say it. Instead she said only, “I can manage. Thank you, Norman.”

  “You’ve got a nice boyfriend,” the officer said as she helped Hannah collect her things. There wasn’t much. The only things she’d brought with her were her purse and the blanket that Norman had given her. Everything else was still at the sheriff’s station, and Lonnie had promised to take it to Michelle and Lisa at The Cookie Jar.

  It took only a minute or two to hear the restrictions of her bail. And then she was walking out the front door of the courthouse, free at last, and Howie was there to meet her.

  “Lisa sent these for you,” he said, handing her one of the distinctive bags they used for takeout cookies at the shop. “She told me to tell you they were Fresh Blackberry Cookies.”

  “Thanks,” Hannah said.

  “Did you turn over your passport?” Howie asked.

  “I don’t have a passport. Should I have a passport?”

  “Not now. You couldn’t get one now. But don’t worry about it. You weren’t going anywhere anyway, were you?”

  “No.”

  “Then it doesn’t affect you one way or the other. They’ll notify me when they set a court date, but it won’t be for a while. You’re free, Hannah.”

  “Free,” Hannah repeated, smiling widely. Freedom was something you really didn’t think about unless you lost it. And then it was the only thing that mattered. She caught sight of Norman’s car and came close to running down the courthouse steps so that she could climb in beside him, but she wasn’t entirely sure that her legs would hold her. Instead, she walked quickly down the steps and made her way to the curb. Her heart was still racing with the remnants of fear and she didn’t completely relax until she was seated next to Norman in the passenger seat.

  “Oh, Norman!” Hannah exclaimed, throwing her arms around him and giving him a big kiss. “You really are my hero! Let’s go to your house.”

  Norman pulled her closer and kissed her soundly. And then he chuckled.

  “Why are you laughing?” Hannah asked him.

  “If I’d only realized that all it took was five thousand dollars and a couple of signatures on some papers, I would have done this a long time ago!”

  FRESH BLACKBERRY COOKIES

  Preheat oven to 375 degrees F., rack in the middle position.

  Hannah’s Note: Winnie told Lisa that this recipe came from her daughter, Gina, who lives in Seattle. Gina developed this recipe while she was still at home on the ranch.

  1 cup fresh blackberries (you can also use frozen)

  1 cup white (granulated) sugar

  ½ cup salted butter, softened (1 stick, 4 ounces, ¼ pound)

  1 teaspoon baking power

  ½ teaspoon salt

  1 and ½ teaspoons grated lemon zest (zest is the yellow part of the peel)

  1 large egg

  2 cups all-purpose flour (pack it down in the cup when you measure it)

  ¼ cup milk

  Rinse and thoroughly dry the blackberries. You can do this in a strainer and let them dry while you mix up the cookie dough. (If you’re using frozen blackberries, you don’t have to rinse them—just put them in a strainer and let them thaw.)

  Prepare your baking sheets by lining them with parchment paper and then spraying the paper with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray.

  Place the white sugar and the softened salted butter in the bowl of an electric mixer. Beat them together until they are light and fluffy.

  Add the baking powder, salt, and grated lemon zest. Mix them in thoroughly.

  Add the egg and mix until it is completely incorporated.

  Add one cup of flour to your bowl. Mix it in.

  Add the milk to your bowl. Mix that in.

  Add the rest of the flour and mix until all the ingredients except the blackberries are combined.

  Turn off the mixer, take out the bowl, and set it on the counter.

  Pat the strained blackberries with a paper towel until they are thoroughly dry.

  Add them to the dough in the bowl and gently fold them in
with a rubber spatula. The goal here is to keep as many whole, uncrushed berries as possible. Some will crush and juice. It’s inevitable. Don’t despair because that is what will give your cookies streaks of lovely purple color.

  Drop the cookies by teaspoonful onto the parchment covered cookie sheet, 12 cookies to a standard-size sheet. (Lisa and I use a 2-teaspoon cookie scoop to make these down at The Cookie Jar.)

  Bake the Fresh Blackberry Cookies at 375 degrees F., for 12 to 15 minutes or until they are a light, golden brown color.

  Yield: 4 to 5 dozen, depending on cookie size.

  Chapter Twelve

  It was one o’clock in the afternoon and Hannah was back at The Cookie Jar, mixing up cookie dough in the kitchen, and trying not to listen as Lisa told the story of how Hannah’d hit the stranger who’d been standing at the side of the road and killed him.

  “He had on an expensive white shirt, designer jeans, and running shoes that sell for almost two hundred dollars a pair,” Hannah heard Lisa say as she added ground oatmeal to her bowl and mixed it in.

  “He must have had money, that’s for sure!” It was Bertie Straub’s voice and Hannah smiled. Bertie had probably left her clients under the dryers and dashed down the street to listen to Lisa’s story so that she could go back and repeat it to them when she combed them out.

  “Dark brown hair, hazel eyes, and not an ounce of fat on him. I saw him and he looked like he worked out almost every day,” Lisa continued her description.