Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder

by Joanne Fluke

  Andrea studied the indentations in the pile of the carpet. “They’re going right to that door.”

  “The original dairy. Max must have taken his visitor in there. We’d better check it out.”

  “Why would he take someone in there?”

  “He told us that he used it for the storage of old records,” Hannah explained. “Come on. Let’s see if it’s open.”

  With Andrea following at her heels, Hannah pushed open the door and found the light switch. She gestured toward the shelves of file boxes lining the small brick building. “I guess he’s still using it for storage.”

  “Is that the original safe?” Andrea pointed to the old safe in the corner.

  “It must be. It looks old.” Hannah walked over to examine the safe door. It was standing open, but it didn’t look damaged in any way. “Max must have opened it for some reason.”

  As Hannah searched through the contents, she kept up a running commentary so that Andrea would know what she was doing. “There’s no sign of a robbery or anything like that. Here’s a bundle of cash and a jewelry box.” Hannah snapped open the box and looked inside. “It’s a pair of gold cufflinks. They look like antiques. Maybe they belonged to Max’s grandfather. And here’s an antique pocket watch and a man’s diamond ring. There’s a Rolex, too. That must be fairly new. I don’t think they made them when Max’s father was alive. I didn’t notice any kind of a safe in Max’s house, so I guess this is where he keeps his personal valuables.”

  Her eyes were drawn to a few stapled papers on one of the shelves, and Hannah reached out for them. “Here’s the speech that Betty typed for Max, just sitting on top of these files. Max must have picked it up from Betty’s desk before he came in here.”

  Hannah set the speech aside and opened one of the files. There were legal papers inside and it looked like a loan agreement. Her eyes widened as she read the name. “I found the loan papers that Norman’s parents signed. They’re stamped ‘Paid In Full’ and Max initialed it. Hold on a second and let me look through some of these files. I want to see if there’s anyone else we know.”

  “Here’s one for Frank Birchum.” Hannah glanced at the contents of another folder. “And his papers are stamped ‘Foreclosed.’ The Birchums moved away about six years ago, didn’t they?”

  Andrea didn’t answer and Hannah frowned. “Andrea? You knew the Birchums, didn’t you? They lived right next to the fire station, and Frank used to own the lumberyard before the Hedins took it over. Do you remember when they left town?”

  There was no answer and Hannah turned to see what her sister was doing. Andrea was standing near the door and she seemed rooted to the spot. There was a glazed look in her eyes and she was staring off into the far corner of the room.

  “Andrea?” Hannah walked over to take her sister’s arm. She gave it a gentle shake, but Andrea didn’t seem to notice. “You’re scaring me, Andrea. Talk to me!”

  But Andrea didn’t say a word. She just shuddered and stared off into the far corner with an expression of horror on her face. Hannah swiveled around and looked in the direction of her sister’s fixated gaze. No wonder Andrea was speechless. There was a pair of feet sticking out from behind one of the shelves of file boxes!

  “Stay right here.” Hannah realized how unnecessary that warning was, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say. “I’ll go over and check it out.”

  Even though Hannah expected the worst, the sight that greeted her was still a shock. It was Max, and he was on his back. There was a hole, very similar to the one she’d seen in Ron’s Cozy Cow Dairy shirt, in the center of Max’s chest. And his eyes were wide-open and staring up at nothing, just as Ron’s had been.

  Max was dead. Hannah didn’t need a doctor to tell her that. The blood on his shirt had dried thoroughly, and Hannah assumed that he’d been dead for quite a while, probably since shortly after his meeting on Wednesday morning.

  Hannah walked back to her sister and took her arm. There wasn’t any pleasant way to tell her. “It’s Max and he’s dead. Let’s go and find Bill.”

  “Bill.” Andrea managed to choke out his name.

  “Right. Come on, Andrea. I’ll drive out to the accident scene and we’ll find him. How about Tracey? Do you need to get home to her?”

  Andrea shook her head. It was a jerky, almost automatic kind of motion, but Hannah was relieved. At least she was responding. “With Lucy. Overnight. At the farm.”

  “Good.” Hannah understood what Andrea was trying to say. Lucy Dunwright was Andrea’s friend, and her daughter, Karen, was Tracey’s age. Tracey was spending the night with Karen at the family farm.

  Hannah glanced over at the safe and made one of her snap decisions, the kind that frequently got her into trouble. This was a crime scene and all of Max’s papers would be taken as evidence. Hannah knew that she shouldn’t touch anything, but Norman had told them how embarrassed his mother would be if anyone found out about the loan papers they’d signed with Max. Their loan had been paid off more than five years ago. The date was right on the papers. It had nothing to do with the crime and there was no reason why anyone else had to know about it.

  It only took a second to grab the file and stuff it inside the front of her jacket. Hannah collected her flashlight and then she went over to take Andrea’s hand. “Come on, Andrea. We’re leaving now.”

  Andrea was in shock and the sooner they got out of here, the better. Hannah pulled her into Max’s office and guided her around the perimeter of the carpet and out the door. They walked back the way they’d come, across the large open space and out the back entrance. Hannah led the way to her Suburban and opened the passenger door. She tucked Andrea inside, walked around, and slid in.

  “Eat another cookie, Andrea.” Hannah plunked the bag on her sister’s lap. “It’ll help.”

  Andrea reached into the bag and took out a cookie. She stared at it for a second and then she took a bite. Hannah started the engine and drove out of the parking lot, turning onto the highway and heading for the interstate. Bill shouldn’t be that hard to find. She could hear sirens in the distance and all she had to do was head toward the sound.

  They’d driven about five miles when Andrea made a strange chortling sound. Hannah turned to stare at her and reached out to pat her arm. “Just take it easy, Andrea. I can see flashing lights up ahead. We’ll be there in a minute.”

  Andrea nodded, and then she made the sound again. Hannah realized that it was a chuckle, and as she listened, it turned into a fairly normal-sounding giggle. “What is it, Andrea? You’re not getting hysterical on me, are you?”

  “No.” Andrea giggled again. “I really do feel much better. I hate to say it, but maybe you’re right. It could be the chocolate.”

  “Chocolate helps.” Hannah stated her theory again, about how the caffeine and the endorphins in chocolate calmed nerves, heightened awareness, and provided a sense of well-being. And then her thoughts turned to Bill and how furious he’d be when she told him that they’d broken into Max’s house, searched the dairy, and found Max’s body.

  “Andrea?” Hannah turned to her sister. “I think I need a dose of my own medicine. Hand me one of those cookies.”

  Chocolate-Covered Cherry Delights

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

  1 cup melted butter (2 sticks)

  2 cups white sugar

  2 eggs

  ½ teaspoon baking powder

  ½ teaspoon baking soda

  ½ teaspoon salt

  2 teaspoons vanilla

  1 cup cocoa powder

  3 cups flour (not sifted)

  2 small, 10-oz. jars of maraschino cherries ***

  1 pkg. chocolate chips (6 oz. pkg.—2 cups)

  ½ cup condensed sweetened milk

  Melt butter and mix in sugar. Let mixture cool and add eggs. Mix it thoroughly and then add baking powder, baking soda, salt, vanilla, and cocoa, stirring after each addition. Add flour and mix well. (Dough will be stiff
and a bit crumbly.)

  Drain cherries and remove stems, reserving juice.

  Pat dough into walnut-sized balls with your fingers. Place on greased cookie sheet, 12 to a standard sheet. Press down in center with thumb to make a deep indentation. (If the health board’s around, use the bowl of a small spoon!) Place one cherry in each indentation.

  In a saucepan over simmering water (double boiler) combine the chocolate chips and the condensed milk. Heat on low until the chips are melted. (You can also do this in the microwave, but you’ll have to keep zapping it to keep it from hardening.)

  Add approx. 1/8 cup of the reserved cherry juice and stir to a thick sauce. If sauce is too thick, add more juice in small increments. (Test it with a teaspoon. If it doesn’t glob off, it’s too thick.)

  Spoon the sauce over the center of each cookie just enough to cover each cherry. Make sure it doesn’t drip down the sides.

  Bake at 350 degrees F. for 10 to 12 minutes. Let cool on cookie sheet for 2 minutes, then remove to rack to finish cooling.

  Yield: 7 to 8 dozen, depending on cookie size.

  A plate of these should be in every psychiatrist’s office—two Chocolate-Covered Cherry Delights will lift anyone out of a depression.

  Chapter Twenty

  Hannah poured two glasses of chilled wine from the green jug in the bottom of her refrigerator and carried them into the living room. Her sister was seated on the couch, still looking rattled, but the color had come back to her cheeks. Moishe was nestled in her arms, and Hannah could hear him purring as Andrea absently stroked his head. Her resident feline was uncanny. He seemed to sense that Andrea was in need of comfort and he was doing his best imitation of a lap cat. Hannah handed one of the glasses to Andrea and said, “Here. Drink this.”

  “What is it?” Andrea eyed the stemmed glass suspiciously.

  “White wine. Don’t ask about the label. I’m sure you’ve never heard of it.”

  Andrea reached for the glass and expertly sloshed the liquid in a tight circle. “Nice liquor line.” Then she took a small sip. “Light and somewhat fruity with an undertone of oak. It’s not a true Chardonnay, but it’s very interesting. I like it.”

  Hannah just smiled and kept her comments to herself. If Andrea knew that the wine had come from the Lake Eden CostMart, and a gallon barely put a dent in a ten dollar bill, she’d decide that it was pure vinegar.

  “I think it’s domestic.” Andrea took another sip. “Am I right?”

  Hannah decided it was time to switch to another subject. “You were incredible with Bill. I still can’t believe that he isn’t mad at me.”

  “Bill can’t stand it when I cry.” Andrea gave a smug smile. “He just falls apart when my lip starts to quiver.”

  “And you can quiver on command?”

  “Of course.” Andrea’s smile grew wider. “I learned how to quiver right after Mother bought me my first bra. It always works with the guys.”

  “You’re amazing,” Hannah said with real admiration. Because of her practice at dealing with doting men, Andrea had managed to avoid the lecture that they’d both deserved.

  Hannah had done her best to explain things to Bill. She’d told him that they were so worried about Max, they’d simply had to check on him. And then, when they’d found Max’s Cadillac half-packed for his trip to the Tri-State Buttermakers’ Convention, they’d had no choice but to use his key to search his office at the dairy, the last place that anyone had seen him.

  That hadn’t quite done it. Bill had still been upset about the fact that Hannah had led his wife into a potentially dangerous situation. But Hannah had posed a question: Wasn’t it lucky that they’d found Max’s body before the trail had gone cold?

  Bill had reluctantly agreed, but he’d laid down some ground rules. The next time Hannah decided to follow up a lead, she should check with him first. Hannah had promised and she’d meant it. Finding two dead bodies was more than enough for one lifetime. But then Bill had started to ask questions about exactly why they hadn’t come out to the accident scene to get him earlier, and Andrea had gone into lip-quivering mode.

  One glance at Andrea’s close-to-tears countenance and Bill had melted. He’d hugged Andrea and told her that he’d get a ride to Hannah’s condo so that he could drive her home. And then he’d assured her that he wasn’t angry with her or with Hannah.

  “Moishe is a very comforting sort of pet.” Andrea’s fingers strayed toward the sensitive spot behind Moishe’s ear and he purred even louder. “It’s really amazing that he’s so domesticated, considering the kind of life that he used to lead. He’s just sitting here and purring. I never knew that he was so sweet.”

  Hannah wasn’t about to tell Andrea how Moishe acted when he was hunting. She doubted that any small rodent or flightless bird would describe him as sweet. “I need to talk to you about Mr. Harris, Andrea. You said he was waiting at the Peterson property when you got there on Wednesday morning?”

  “That’s right. I met him at nine-thirty, but he said he was there a lot earlier than that.” Andrea thought about it for a moment, and then her eyes widened. “Do you think he might have seen something?”

  Hannah shrugged. “That depends on what time he got there. He didn’t tell you if he knew Max or Ron, did he?”

  “No. He said he didn’t know anyone in—” Andrea stopped and stared at Hannah as the light dawned. “Do you think Mr. Harris killed Max and Ron?”

  “The time frame works, but Mr. Harris doesn’t have a motive as far as we know. I’d certainly like to talk to him about it. You don’t happen to have his home phone number, do you?”

  “Of course I do. I’m a real estate agent. I always carry my clients’ numbers with me. Just hand me my purse. I don’t want to disturb Moishe.”

  Hannah walked over to get the purse from the chair near the door and handed it to Andrea. When her sister had opened it, Hannah admired the way the interior was organized. Andrea’s makeup was in a see-through pouch so that she could easily find the item she wanted, her keys were clipped to a leather strap, and her wallet was neatly stowed away in a leather holder on the side. There was even an inside pouch for the glasses that Andrea needed for reading, but refused to wear.

  Andrea reached inside another pouch and drew out a small address book. She flipped to the proper page and handed it to Hannah. “Here it is. You’re not going to call him now, are you?”

  “There’s no time like the present.”

  “But it’s almost midnight. What are you going to say?”

  “I don’t know yet, but I’ll think of something.” Hannah grabbed the phone. “Relax, Andrea. I won’t mention your name.”

  As she punched out the number, Hannah considered her options. Mr. Harris would be more likely to give her information if she had some sort of credential. She could say that she was a reporter with the Lake Eden Journal, but that might backfire. If Mr. Harris had anything to hide, he’d simply hang up on someone who said they worked for the town newspaper. As her call was connected, Hannah made a snap decision. Mr. Harris wouldn’t dare to hang up on the police.

  “Hello?”

  The voice on the other end of the line sounded groggy, as if she’d awakened him, and Hannah did her best to sound official. “Mr. Harris? I’m sorry if I woke you, but this is Miss Swensen from the Winnetka County Sheriff’s Station. We’re investigating a crime that occurred at the Cozy Cow Dairy on Wednesday morning, sometime between six-fifteen and eight. We need to know if you happened to observe anything that could relate to the crime. I understand that you were in the area at that time?”

  “Yes, I was. What happened?”

  Hannah smiled. Mr. Harris sounded cooperative. “I can’t give you the details, but I need to know the time that you arrived in Lake Eden and what you saw while you were there.”

  “Let me see. I got to Lake Eden about a quarter to seven and drove straight out to the Peterson farm. I did see one thing that was odd, but I’m not sure if it’s helpful.”


  “Tell me anyway, Mr. Harris.” Hannah maintained her professional voice.

  “As I approached the dairy, a car pulled out of the driveway. The driver was in a real hurry. He skidded over the centerline, and I had to swerve to avoid him.”

  “You said he, Mr. Harris. The driver was a man?”

  “I’m not sure. I didn’t actually see him. The sun visor was down.”

  “Very good.” Hannah grabbed the notebook and pen that were sitting on the coffee table and made a note. “Could you describe the car?”

  “It was a small black compact with a rental sticker on the window. The sticker was white with red lettering, but I didn’t see the name of the company. I always use Hertz, myself. My company gets a special rate from them.”

  “Then you don’t own a car, Mr. Harris?” Hannah winked at Andrea. Her question had nothing to do with the investigation, but she wanted to find out if he’d told Andrea the truth.

  “I have a vintage Jaguar, but I prefer not to drive it out of the city. I’m certainly glad I didn’t drive it on Wednesday! That other driver came very close to hitting me. I just wish that Marshal Beeseman had been there to give him a ticket.”

  Hannah’s eyebrows rose and she jotted another note. “You’re acquainted with Marshal Beeseman?”

  “Yes. He saw my car parked in front of the Peterson place and drove up to ask me what I was doing there.”