Candy Cane Murder

by Joanne Fluke

  “No way. We drove all the way out here and at least we can check to see if he’s there.” Norman reached out to take her arm. “Just hang on to me and I’ll get you to Bergstrom’s.”

  “But really, Norman…maybe we should just…” Hannah’s protests died a quick death as Norman pulled her forward and out into the Christmas mêlée.

  It was exactly as advertised; shopping was better in Bergstrom’s. It had nothing to do with the quality of the merchandise or the availability of helpful, well-informed salesclerks. The interior of the posh department store was quiet, almost hushed compared to the hubbub outside in the mall. There were considerably less people in Bergstrom’s and Hannah thought she knew why. The exclusive department store was expensive and the words “clearance,” “blowout sale,” and “rock bottom price” had never passed the lips of the staff. Bergstrom’s was not the place to shop if you were looking for a Christmas bargain. Everyone including Hannah knew that.

  “Better?” Norman asked, leading Hannah toward the escalator in the central part of the store.

  “Much better. We’d better find a clerk and ask where the wedding department is.”

  “I know where it is. It’s on the third floor, right across from the travel agency.”

  “You’ve been there?” Hannah was so surprised she almost stumbled as she stepped onto the escalator.

  “No, but I’ve used the travel agency. They booked my flight to the dental convention in Seattle last year. There was a wall with a sign on it that said, MORE PROGRESS AT BERGSTROM’S. PLEASE EXCUSE OUR DUST. When I asked one of the workers what they were building, he said they were putting in a wedding department.”

  Hannah felt vaguely disappointed as they rode up to the third floor. She wasn’t sure why. She was glad that Norman hadn’t made plans for a wedding when he’d asked her to marry him, plans that he would have had to cancel when she’d decided not to marry anyone quite yet. At the same time, it would have shown his commitment and proven to her that his proposal hadn’t been just a gut reaction to the fact that Mike had proposed first. Telling herself she had no right to want such a commitment when she was unwilling to reciprocate, she stepped off the escalator, turned toward the wedding department, and came face to face with a pair of giant gold wedding bells tied together with a giant gold ribbon that said, WONDERFUL WEDDINGS.

  “This is it,” Norman said, quite unnecessarily.

  Hannah eyed the huge bells that adorned the tall gold archway leading into the department. “Pretty fancy!”

  “Shall we?” Norman held out his arm.

  Oh boy! Hannah muttered under her breath as she took it. If anyone they knew saw them walking into the wedding department arm in arm, tongues would wag all over Lake Eden.

  “Hannah!”

  Hannah turned to see Cory Reynolds coming toward them. “Hi, Cory. I’m so sorry about your brother-in-law.”

  “So am I,” Cory said. “Wayne was a wonderful man. Melinda can’t seem to stop crying. She tried to come in today, to say a few words to the staff, but I made her stay home.”

  “Very wise,” Norman said.

  “Thank you. But please let’s not mar this happy occasion with sad tidings. How may I help you two today?”

  Hannah was stunned for a moment, but then she recovered her voice. “Actually…it’s not quite like that. Norman and I aren’t here for a wedding. We came because we really need to ask you some questions about Wayne. Is there somewhere we can talk in private?”

  “Yes. Of course.” Cory turned and led the way down a hallway to several rooms. He chose one, opened the door, and motioned them inside. “Will this do?”

  “It’s perfect,” Hannah said, admiring the comfortable look the decorator had achieved. The room resembled a living room with comfortable furniture, some tasteful flower prints on the walls, and a tray containing bottled water and an ice bucket.

  “Water?” Cory asked them.

  “No thanks,” Hannah answered for both of them.

  “I hear you’re looking into Wayne’s death,” Cory opened the conversation as he took a bottle of water for himself.

  “Yes, unofficially,” Hannah made that clear. “It’s just that I saw Wayne only minutes before he died and then I found him like that.”

  Cory shivered slightly. “I know. All night I kept thinking that if I’d walked out to the parking lot with him, I might have prevented it.”

  “Or you might have been killed right along with your brother-in-law,” Norman pointed out.

  Cory was silent for moment. He was clearly thinking it over. “You’re right. What ifs don’t do any good. I didn’t go out to the parking lot with Wayne, so I’ll never know what would have happened if I had.”

  “We need to ask you about Cyril Murphy,” Hannah said, taking charge. “Did you know that Wayne promised Cyril he’d use Shamrock Limo Service for weddings booked through your department, and he reneged on his promise?”

  “Wayne said it was all a giant misunderstanding, and I know he talked to Larry about it.”

  “Larry?” Hannah asked.

  “Larry Helms. He’s been Wayne’s lawyer for years.”

  Hannah filed the name of the lawyer away for future reference. “It sounds like more than a misunderstanding to me. I heard they were yelling at each other.”

  “I know they were yelling at each other.”

  Hannah stared at him in surprise. “How do you know that?”

  “I gave Wayne a ride to the garage and I was sitting in the car waiting for him. I saw the whole thing. They were yelling at each other and waving their fists. I thought I was going to have to break up a fight, but then Wayne stalked away and came back to the car.”

  “Do you think there was bad blood between Cyril and Wayne?” Hannah asked.

  “You mean…do I think Cyril Murphy might have killed Wayne over that limo thing?”

  “Yes. That’s exactly what I mean.”

  Cory propped his elbows on the table and covered his eyes with his hands. It was a contemplative pose and he thought about it for a long moment. Then he lowered his hands. “It could have happened that way.”

  “Okay. That’s exactly what I wanted to know.” Hannah stood up and Norman followed suit.

  “So…no wedding?” Cory asked, giving a small smile.

  “Not yet,” Norman answered. “But we’ll let you know when. And where.”

  Hannah shot him a quick look and decided to let it go. This wasn’t the time to discuss the risk of assuming too much.

  “These are for you,” she said, producing the bag of cookies she’d earmarked for Cory. “I thought you might be able to use a little chocolate. The endorphins will make you feel better.”

  Cory gave her a smile that wavered slightly. “Thanks, Hannah. That was really sweet of you. I’ll give some to Melinda.”

  “That’s okay. We’ve got some for her, too.” Norman spoke up quickly. “Do you think we could drop them off? We wouldn’t stay, of course. We know how devastating this whole thing must be for her.”

  Hannah shot a quick glance at Norman. He didn’t take the lead in an interrogation often, but when he did, he was usually right.

  “Yes,” she said, quickly adopting Norman’s vernacular. “We thought Melinda might appreciate a tangible expression of friendship and comfort.”

  Cory hesitated for a long moment. “Well…I think that would be very kind of you, provided you didn’t stay too long. She’s exhausted, you know. Poor Melinda is still suffering from the shock of losing her husband.”

  “Of course, the poor dear!” Hannah said, pouring it on with both pitchers. The flowery language was difficult to master and she wished she’d taken lessons from Digger Gibson, Lake Eden’s mortician and funeral director. “Not to worry. We’ll just drop the cookies off and leave.”

  “That’s fine. Thank you for being so understanding. I’ll give Melinda a call and tell her to expect you.”

  CHOCOLATE CANDY CANE COOKIES

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

  Cookie Dough:

  4 squares unsweetened baking chocolate (4 ounces)

  1¼ cups (2½sticks, 10-ounces) chilled butter

  2 cups white (granulated) sugar

  2 beaten eggs (just whip them up in a glass with a fork)

  2 teaspoons baking soda

  ½ teaspoon salt

  1⁄3 cup corn syrup (I used white Karo syrup)

  2 Tablespoons water

  1 Tablespoon (3 teaspoons) vanilla

  4 cups flour (pack it down in the cup when you measure it)

  Topping:

  ¼ cup white (granulated) sugar

  ¼ cup finely crushed mint candy canes (about 12 mini candy canes)

  Melt the butter and the chocolate squares together, mix them thoroughly, and set them on the counter to cool. You can do this in a microwave-safe bowl for 3 minutes on HIGH, or in a pan over low heat on the stovetop. (I do it by microwave in a Pyrex one-quart measuring cup.)

  Hannah’s 1stNote: If you like a strong peppermint flavor, use 2 teaspoons of vanilla and one teaspoon of peppermint extract instead of the Tablespoon (3 teaspoons) of vanilla extract that’s called for in the recipe.

  In a large bowl, combine the white sugar and the eggs. Beat the mixture until it’s a uniform pale yellow color.

  Add the baking soda and salt. Mix them in well.

  Mix in the corn syrup, water, and the vanilla.

  Hannah’s 2ndNote: Whenever I measure something sticky like corn syrup, maple syrup, or honey, I spray my measuring cup with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray first. Then the sticky stuff slides right out and it’s easy to wash the cup.

  Add half of the flour to your bowl. (That’s 2 cups.) Mix it in. Then add the remaining flour (that’s 2 cups) and mix thoroughly.

  Give the bowl a final stir by hand, cover it with plastic wrap, and let it rest on the counter while you spray your cookie sheets with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray and crush your candy canes.

  Hannah’s 3rdNote: I unwrap my candy canes, stick them in a heavy plastic bag, and hit them with a little rubber mallet I got from Dad’s hardware store before we sold it. Lisa says she does hers almost the same way, except she puts a board over the bag and bangs on the board with a hammer. Any way you want to crush the candy is fine—just be really careful with hammers and mallets if you have ceramic tile counters. You can also break the candy canes in pieces with your hands and then pulverize them in a food processor with the steel blade. (Read your instruction manual to make sure the food processor you have will handle a task like this.)

  I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but last summer when Andrea, Michelle, and I were staying out at Mother’s lake cottage, we couldn’t find a hammer, so I put the candy canes in a triple layer of plastic bags and Michelle backed over them several times with the car. (It worked.)

  Measure out a quarter cup of finely crushed candy canes and place them in a small bowl. Add a quarter cup white granulated sugar and mix it all up with a fork. (The goal is to get an equal amount of sugar and crushed candy cane on each of the dough balls that you’ll make.)

  Roll the dough into one-inch diameter balls with your hands. This dough may be sticky, so roll only enough for the cookies you plan to bake immediately and then put the bowl in the refrigerator.

  Roll the dough balls in the bowl of topping and place them on the greased cookie sheets, 12 balls to a standard sheet. Flatten them slightly with a metal spatula or the heel of your impeccably clean hand.

  Bake the cookies at 350 degrees F. for 8 to 10 minutes. Cool them on the cookie sheet for a minute and then remove the cookies to a wire rack to complete cooling. (If you leave them on the cookie sheet for more than a minute, they may stick. It’s not the sugar—it’s the crushed candy canes. They melt and then stick to your baking sheets.)

  Yield: approximately 8 dozen yummy cookies

  Chapter Eight

  The special elevator that carried them up to the penthouse over Bergstrom’s department store had been opulent with gold-tone mirrors and a pink velvet bench that ran around its perimeter. Hannah had never seen an elevator with seating before, and she was even more impressed when it rose to the fifth floor in one smooth motion and the doors whispered open to reveal even more luxury.

  The foyer they stepped into could have graced any one of several five-star hotels. Two walls were covered with a silvery silken material that matched the pillows on the pink and light green silk couches. Wing chairs in light blue silk were grouped around oval-shaped gold tables with mirrored tops, their beveled edges trimmed in gold. The other two walls were made entirely of glass, affording a spectacular view of the pine-dotted snowscape outside.

  “Holy Hannah!” Hannah breathed, taking her own name in vain. “This is even better than Teensy’s Penthouse!”

  “Better than what?”

  “Teensy’s Penthouse. Tracey put it on her Christmas wish list. It’s the hot item this year and all the stores I called are sold out. There was one that had it, but they wanted a hundred and twenty dollars. And that was without Teensy!”

  “And Teensy is a doll?”

  “She’s not just a doll,” Hannah corrected him. “Teensy is a fully articulated reproduction of a female child in miniature. She has her own series of children’s books and DVDs, and there’s a Saturday morning cartoon. She’s a little rich girl with a fabulous wardrobe and all sorts of places they call environments like ski chalets, thoroughbred horse farms, and ocean cottages. Teensy lives in the lap of luxury.”

  Norman smiled. “Correction. Teensy’s manufacturer lives in the lap of luxury.”

  “Sir? Madam?” The same maid who’d answered the door and taken their coats addressed them from the doorway. “Mrs. Bergstrom will see you now. Please follow me.”

  Hannah and Norman were led past priceless artwork and more ornate furniture as they traversed the wide carpeted hallway to an arched doorway near the rear of the penthouse.

  “Through here, please,” the maid said, opening the arched door and stepping aside. “Mrs. Bergstrom wishes to meet with you in the indoor garden. She designed it shortly after her marriage and it’s her favorite spot to entertain. Just follow the path to the seating area by the fountain.”

  As Hannah and Norman entered the warm, humid space, they gave nearly simultaneous gasps of surprise. It was a tropical paradise filled with exotic plants, ferns, and even trees. Flowers in riotous colors were blooming everywhere, enough to keep a florist in business for the whole winter season.

  “Wow!” Hannah said, turning to Norman. “The only other time I get to see this much green in the winter is on St. Patrick’s Day. This is just like Mother’s orangery.”

  “Your mother’s what?”

  “Orangery. Mansions in England had them during the Regency period. It was a solarium, an indoor greenhouse, with all sorts of exotic plants, fruit trees, and flowers.”

  “I think this probably qualifies,” Norman said, gazing around him. “It’s like a jungle in here. Or maybe a rain forest. I’m not that well acquainted with the difference.”

  “It’s paradise,” Hannah said, “especially in the dead of winter.” It was true. Melinda’s solarium was a paradise requiring only constant temperature and humidity monitoring, and expert gardening. To add to the sensory delights, the indoor garden had two walls and a ceiling made of glass. The frigid winter scene outside was a startling juxtaposition to the lush tropical illusion inside.

  “This way,” Norman indicated a path made of smooth round stones. “She said there was a fountain and I can hear falling water.”

  Hannah looked down at the stones on the walkway as she followed Norman. She figured they were probably fabricated. As far as she knew, stones were like snowflakes. If you made it your life’s work, you might find two that were exactly the same, but you certainly wouldn’t be lucky enough to find the thousands of identical pebbles it had taken to line Melinda Bergstrom’s solarium walkway.

&n
bsp; Hannah hadn’t seen Melinda recently, but the former-model-turned-wife hadn’t changed one iota. She was seated in a rattan peacock chair by the fountain and she was just as svelte and impeccably groomed as she’d been when she’d strolled down the runway. She was wearing what Hannah assumed was a designer pantsuit made of black velvet that set off her light ash-blond hair and her peaches-and-cream complexion. Her feet were encased in black sandals with stiletto heels, something that gave Hannah pause. Would a grieving widow wear stiletto heels? Perhaps, if she happened to be a former model. But wouldn’t a grieving widow who’d been crying all night and day have swollen eyelids and blotchy cheeks? She’d have to ask Andrea if there was a way to hide prolonged tears with makeup.

  “Mrs. Bergstrom.” Norman stepped forward to take Melinda’s outstretched hand. “We’re so sorry for your loss.”

  Hannah took her cue from Norman. “This must be a very difficult time for you.”

  “Oh, it is. I can’t seem to stop blaming myself. I should have gone with Wayne instead of keeping my appointment with Pierre.”

  “Pierre from Le Petit Salon?” Hannah asked, naming the exclusive beauty shop downstairs in the mall.

  “That’s right. Pierre came up to style my hair at seven-thirty, right after they closed the salon. He was still here when the deputies came to tell me that Wayne was…was…” Melinda gave a quavering sigh and her voice trailed off.

  “I’m glad you had someone with you,” Hannah said, filing away the information she’d been given for later. “Cory probably told you, but Norman and I came up to bring you some of my Devil’s Food Cookies. We thought maybe the chocolate might help to make you feel better.”

  “How sweet of you!” Melinda accepted the bag Hannah handed her and peeked inside. “They smell so good.”