by Joanne Fluke
“Ready, Florence?” she asked.
“I’m ready.”
“Okay. I’ll give it my best try.”
“Make it your second-best try,” Florence said with a laugh. “I’m through in twenty minutes, and I’d like to stay dry.”
Hannah threw three balls, missing with each by a country mile. “You’re still dry,” she said when she’d finished.
“And I’m grateful. Did you miss on purpose?”
“No. I’ve never been any good at pitching balls. And I figured that if I tried to miss, I might just hit the bull’s-eye. So I just aimed for it and hoped my natural nonexistent talent would keep you dry.”
“Whatever. It worked.” Florence looked over Hannah’s shoulder and groaned.
Hannah turned around to see a tall, lanky young man approaching. He waved at Florence, and then he went around the corner of the booth. “What’s the matter?” she asked Florence.
“That’s Bernie Fulton.”
Hannah let that sink in, but the light failed to dawn. “Who’s Bernie Fulton?”
“He’s a pitcher on the Twins farm team. Everybody says they’re going to bring him up from triple A by the end of the season. He’s pitched three no-no’s, and that’s practically unheard of.”
“No-no’s?”
“No runs, no hits.”
“Then he’s very good!”
“The best.” Florence gave another little groan. “He’s dunked every single woman volunteer at least once.”
“But why?”
“For the publicity. At least that’s what he told the other women before he dunked them.”
Both Hannah and Florence waited breathlessly. Was Bernie going to do it again, or had he gone on to another booth? A few seconds later, their question was answered as he reappeared, juggling three baseballs in one hand.
“Ready?” he asked Florence.
Florence sighed in resignation. “I’m as ready as I’m ever going to be.”
“It’s nothing personal. I’m just trying to get publicity so they’ll bring me up early. And don’t forget that my publicity is your publicity, too. Delores just told me that contributions tripled since they ran that television spot on the sports news last night.”
Hannah glanced around. Sure enough, there was Wingo Jones with his cameraman, ready to capture Florence’s dunking for the KCOW sports news. “Hang in there, Florence,” she said, giving the object of Bernie Fulton’s publicity a sympathetic glance. “I’ll go get you a towel.”
As she hurried around the corner of the booth, Hannah heard three sounds in rapid succession: a thud, a shriek, and a loud splash. Bernie Fulton was impressive. It sounded as if he’d succeeded with his first pitch.
“Take this to Florence, will you dear?” Delores handed Hannah a fluffy bath towel without being asked, and Hannah got the impression she’d known exactly what was going to happen.
“Thanks.” Hannah grabbed the towel and rushed back to Florence to help her dry off. It was only after Florence had resumed her place on the stool and Hannah was walking away that she realized Bernie “No-No” Fulton had called her mother Delores.
Hannah’s eyes narrowed, and she turned back to give her mother an assessing look. Delores waved and assumed a perfectly guileless smile that didn’t fool Hannah for a second. Bernie obviously knew Delores. And Delores knew the evening news crew at KCOW Television, including the sports commentator, Wingo Jones. She’d also expected that Bernie would dunk Florence because she’d had the towel ready and waiting. Was it possible that her mother had set everything up to garner more publicity and more donations for her favorite project?
“Uh-oh,” Hannah said with a sigh, turning on her heel and heading off in the direction of the Sinful Pleasures booth. She needed a deep-fried Milky Way, and she needed it now. There was no doubt in her mind that Delores intended to sacrifice every one of her frilly-dressed volunteers, including her eldest daughter, to the huge tank of water that was positioned beneath the dunking stool at the Lake Eden Historical Society booth.
MOCK APPLE PIE
Preheat oven to 450 degrees F., rack in the center position
Yes, that’s four hundred and fifty degrees F. and not a misprint.
Use your favorite piecrust recipe to make enough pastry for an eight-inch double crust pie. ***
Assemble the following ingredients:
20 salted soda crackers
¼ to ½ cup softened butter
1½ cups cold water
1½ cups white (granulated) sugar
3 Tablespoons lemon juice (freshly squeezed is best)
1 teaspoon cinnamon ½ teaspoon nutmeg
1½ teaspoons cream of tartar
Butter the soda crackers (I ended up using just a bit over a quarter-cup of butter to do this), put the buttered crackers in the saucepan, and break them up into fairly large pieces with a wooden spoon.
Add the water, sugar, lemon juice, cinnamon, nutmeg, and cream of tarter. Give everything a good stir with your spoon and bring the mixture to a boil over medium to high heat on the stovetop.
Once the boil has been reached, turn down the heat and simmer for exactly two minutes.
Set the saucepan aside on a cold burner.
Divide your piecrust dough in half and roll out the bottom crust large enough to line an 8-inch pie plate.
Pour the soda cracker mixture into the lined pie plate and cover it with the top crust. Crimp the edges together. Cut a couple of slits in the top crust to let out the steam while the pie bakes.
Bake the pie at 450 degrees F., for 15 to 20 minutes, or until the top crust is nicely browned.
Cool and serve.
Jo’s Note: This pie has fooled everyone every single time I’ve served it!
Lisa says she likes this pie best with vanilla ice cream. Herb prefers it with cinnamon ice cream. Lisa’s dad likes to accompany it with a slice of sharp cheddar. Herb’s mom likes hers with sweetened whipped cream.
Chapter Ten
Hannah set her Key Lime Pie down on the counter and waited until Ruby had finished waiting on three giggling girls and an overweight man who kept glancing over his shoulder.
“Hi, Hannah,” Ruby said when everyone had left. “Are you ready to try that candy bar yet?”
“I’m ready. I need a dose of carbs and chocolate.”
“What’s wrong?”
Hannah gave a deep sigh. There was no doubt in her mind that she’d be getting a dunking in the historical society booth on Saturday. “I just found out that my mother set me up again.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. And I can understand why you need something to cheer you up. Did you decide which candy bar you want to try first?”
“First?” Hannah gave a little laugh. “I like the way you think, Ruby! I’ll have the deep-fried Milky Way and then, if I can still waddle, I’ll have…” Hannah stopped in midorder as she heard someone call her name. “Oh no! Not again!”
“This one’s real cute,” Ruby said, glancing over Hannah’s shoulder. “Tall and handsome with a great body on him. If he doesn’t work out, I’ll be surprised.”
Hannah turned around and put a smile on her face. “Oh, he works out, all right. He’s got a minigym at his apartment complex, and there’s a full one out at the sheriff’s department.”
“Bet he looks good in his dress uniform.”
“Oh, yes,” Hannah said, and turned to greet Mike. “Hi, Mike. Meet Ruby. She runs the most intriguing booth on the midway.”
“I can see that.” Mike glanced up at the sign that said Sinful Pleasures and gave a little chuckle. “Hi, Ruby. How’s business?”
“Very good, thank you. The deep-fried Milky Ways are the big seller tonight.”
Mike turned to Hannah. “Were you going to order one?”
“Of course she wasn’t,” Ruby covered for her. “Hannah was curious about the batter, that’s all. How about you? Would you like one? It’s on the house.”
Mike shook his head. “I’d love to,
but I gained a pound last week and I have to watch it.”
A pound. He’d gained a pound and he was already dieting. Hannah gave a little laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Mike asked, turning to her.
“You gained one pound and you’re already dieting?”
“That’s right. I figure it’s like clearing the highways in the winter. They call out the plows when it starts to snow, because if they wait for it to pile up, it’s a lot harder to get rid of.”
Ruby looked interested. “So you don’t want your weight to pile up?”
“Exactly right. If I gain a pound, I take it off before it can turn into two or three. I like to get a jump on it, you know? That’s one of the reasons I weigh myself every morning.”
“I see,” Hannah said, settling for one of the most noncommittal comments she could make and squelching the urge to haul back and slap the face she found so incredibly attractive. She didn’t start worrying about her weight until she gained at least five pounds. And since weighing in was such an ordeal, she’d been known to read the scale by peeking through her fingers, a technique left over from childhood for watching scary movies.
“So that would be a no on the deep-fried candy bar, then?” Ruby asked, winking at Hannah.
“Right. They do look good, though. And thanks a lot for the offer.” Mike turned back to Hannah. “I need to talk to you.”
“Officially or unofficially?”
“Officially.”
“Then you’re working?”
“I didn’t even have time to get home before they called me in again.”
“That sounds like something big.”
“Big enough.” Mike took her arm and walked her over to one of the unoccupied food tables. “There was a break-in at the Great Northwestern Rodeo and Carnival office.”
Hannah sat down and unleashed the questions that flashed through her mind. “Somebody broke in? When did it happen? Was anybody hurt? Did they steal something, or was it vandalism?”
“If you get me a cup of coffee, I’ll tell you all about it,” Mike said, sliding into a seat across from Hannah. “I’d do it myself, but I’m beat.”
It was rare that Mike asked for help, and Hannah was up in a flash. She got two Styrofoam cups of coffee from the corn dog booth and carried them back to the table. “Here you go, Mike.”
“Thanks. You probably just saved my life.” Mike took a swig and made a face. “This coffee is worse than the stuff at the station.”
“Do you want me to try another booth?”
“No. I just need it to wake up, and it’s strong enough to do the trick. Sit down and I’ll tell you about the break-in.”
“I’m listening,” Hannah said, sitting back down and leaning forward across the table.
“The secretary, Miss Vincent, locked up at six. That’s routine. It’s when the office closes every night.”
“And all the employees know that?”
“Not just the employees. The hours are posted on a sign outside the door. She’s new at the job, but she’s been with the show for over a year. Before she took over as secretary, she worked at the ticket booth.”
“Then she travels with the company?”
“Yes.” Mike gestured toward the group of motor homes and trailers that were parked in the vacant lot behind the grove of trees. “It’s the blue one just to the left of that arc light.”
“I see it,” Hannah told him, spotting it through the branches of the trees.
“Anyway, she got to her trailer at six-thirty, fished around for her keys to unlock the door, and realized that she’d left them in her center desk drawer at the office.”
“So she went back to the office?”
“That’s right. She got back there at a quarter to seven, but she didn’t go in. She noticed that one of the windows on the side of the door was broken, and she did the smart thing. She walked to the gate and had them call for a security guard. That was…” Mike paused to flip open his notebook and refer to the notes he’d taken. “Mr. Roland Weiss. He’s a retired Winnetka County Deputy. Mr. Weiss unlocked the door with his master key and went in to assess the situation, but the burglar was long gone.”
Hannah caught Mike’s use of the term. “You said burglar. What was missing?”
“Money. The cash box was full when Miss Vincent left. It had all the entrance fees for the rodeo contests, the gate receipts from yesterday and this afternoon, and the midway receipts. All told, it was over ten thousand dollars.”
Hannah’s mouth formed a silent O of surprise. “That’s a lot of money,” she said.
“I know, and it’s all in untraceable cash. It would have been even more, but she’d already paid the hourly workers for the day.”
“Where was it kept?”
“In the bottom right-hand drawer of Miss Vincent’s desk. The drawer was locked, but the burglar pried it open.”
“Then he knew it was there?”
“That’s my assumption. Either that or he just got lucky. He didn’t bother trying to open the cash box. That was also locked. He just took it with him.”
Hannah shut her eyes and went over the information Mike had given her. One thing stood out. “You said Miss Vincent had yesterday’s receipts. Why didn’t she take them to the bank?”
“Their bank doesn’t have branches here in Minnesota. They usually deposit the funds with a wire transfer, but the secretary’s new and she didn’t know how to do it. The owner was supposed to walk her through it this afternoon, but something came up and he couldn’t get away.”
“What came up?”
“I don’t know. I’ll find out as soon as I talk to him.” Mike stopped speaking and stared at her. “Your eyes just opened wide and now you’re frowning. Why?”
“Just a thought. If I were you, I’d want to find out what came up to keep the owner from transferring the money. And then I’d want to know if whatever it was could have been done deliberately to delay him.”
“We’re on the same wavelength. I figure maybe somebody wanted to make sure the owner didn’t get that wire transfer done. And if I can find out who that someone is, chances are we’ve got our burglar.”
Hannah was silent for a moment, and then she thought of another question. “You’re sure the burglary took place between six and a quarter to seven?”
“We’re positive. What’s the matter? You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Widening your eyes and then frowning. What is it this time?”
“You said Miss Vincent left the office at six and got to her trailer at at six-thirty. Is that right?”
“That’s right.”
“And then you said that when she went back to the office to get her keys, she arrived at a quarter to seven.”
“Right again.”
“Well, that’s fifteen minutes faster for Miss Vincent’s return trip. So where did she stop on her way home?”
“Very good!” Mike reached over to pat her hands. “I should have known you’d pick up on that. Miss Vincent stopped right here at the food court for a Paul Bunyan burger. She had them bag it, and she carried it back to her trailer.”
“Okay.”
Mike scratched his head as he stared at Hannah. “Hold on. You just widened your eyes and frowned again. What’s wrong this time?”
“It’s the Paul Bunyan burger!”
“But I checked it out. They remember putting one in a takeout bag for her.”
Hannah shook her head. “Not Miss Vincent’s Paul Bunyan burger. I was talking about my Paul Bunyan burger. Lisa and Herb gave me one for Moishe, and I left it at the Lake Eden Historical Society booth.”
No sooner had the words left Hannah’s mouth than the lights began to flicker on and off. It was the five-minute warning, the signal to let fairgoers know that their evening of fun was drawing to a close and the fair was about to shut down for the night.
“You’re going to go back and get it?” Mike guessed, a pretty safe assumption sinc
e Hannah was now standing and she’d picked up her shoulder bag.
“I’d better see if it’s still there. If I don’t, Lisa and Herb will be very disappointed.”
Mike gave what sounded to Hannah like an exhausted sigh. “Do you want me to go with you?” he asked.
Hannah thought about taking him up on his offer. She wasn’t relishing the idea of bucking traffic and heading into the midway when most people were heading out, and Mike could clear a path for her. But then she remembered that he was pulling a double shift. He really did look as if he could use a couple of minutes’ rest.
“I’ll be fine,” she said.
“Okay, but you’d better hurry,” Mike said, yawning widely. “There’s a bench right outside the gate. I’ll wait for you there to make sure they don’t lock you in. Do you want me to take that bakery box with me?”
“No, that’s okay. I’ll be back in a jiffy.” Hannah reached out to scoop up the box with her Key Lime Pie. It was safer to take it with her. Mike was so tired he might cushion his head on the top of the box and fall asleep in the prizewinning pie.
Chapter Eleven
Hannah felt a bit like a salmon swimming upstream as she headed for the Lake Eden Historical Society booth. It was never easy bucking a crowd. Everyone seemed to be streaming toward the exit in a giant wave. She doubted that the bag with Moishe’s Paul Bunyan burger was still where she’d left it, but she had to find out.
“Excuse me,” Hannah said, resisting the urge to elbow three high school boys walking with their girlfriends six abreast. But they didn’t even notice her, so Hannah stepped aside to let them past. This happened more times than she could count as she treaded water in the sea of humanity and darted forward against the surge of boisterous fairgoers whenever she saw an opening.