Apple Turnover Murder, Key Lime Pie Murder, Cherry Cheesecake Murder, Lemon Meringue Pie Murder

by Joanne Fluke

  “She’s married to the sheriff,” Hannah answered what could have been an embarrassing question for her sister. “Andrea knows all the inside stuff.”

  “Right.” Andrea shot her a grateful glance.

  “Well, I know why the lights flickered,” Michelle said. “Elvis told me.”

  Hannah laughed. “You nicknamed him the same thing we did.”

  “No, I didn’t. His name really is Elvis. He said his mother was crazy about The King and she wanted to pay tribute.”

  “What some mothers won’t do to their kids!” Andrea said, giving an exasperated sigh. “He might have turned out all right if his mother hadn’t practically dictated his personality by naming him after a famous person.”

  “I doubt it. I think he’d be a jerk no matter what.” Michelle turned to Hannah again. “Do you want to know why the lights flickered?”

  “Yes. There they go again. Why?”

  “They’re having a drawing for a pony.”

  “You mean…a little horse?” Andrea asked.

  “No, a pony of beer. It’s a half-keg.”

  Hannah started to frown. “How do you know that?”

  “Everybody in college knows that. It’s what you buy when you’re having a party because it’s cheaper than bottles or cans. You have to pay a deposit, but they refund it when you bring the pony keg back.”

  “I hope you’re not ignoring the law. You can’t buy liquor if you’re underage.”

  “I know that. It’s why I was drinking ginger ale tonight. It looks like a mixed drink, so I fit right in.”

  “We made it,” Norman said, opening the door and shepherding them all out to the parking lot and over to the two vehicles they’d driven. “Do you want me to ride with you, Michelle? Or are you okay to drive home by yourself?”

  “I’m fine. I was drinking ginger ale, remember? I’ll see you at the condo, then.”

  “Not so fast,” Andrea said, grabbing her sister’s arm. “I want to know where you got that outfit. You look like…well…I’m not going to say what you look like in polite company.”

  “These are jeans that shrunk in the washer. And I ruined a perfectly good shirt by ripping off the sleeves in the car before I went inside.”

  “Why did you do that?” Hannah asked.

  “I watched the girls that came out and I knew I’d never fit in if I didn’t have that biker chick look. There wasn’t time to go back and change, so I improvised.”

  “You should have taken one look at those girls and gone home,” Andrea said, frowning.

  “But I knew Hannah was investigating, and I wanted to do my part. Once I knew Tasha’s last name and I found out where her brothers hung out, I just had to go there.”

  “I appreciate that,” Hannah said, “but you could have been killed! Or worse!”

  Michelle looked puzzled. “What’s worse than being killed?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m willing to bet that something is. That’s not important right now. What’s important is that you don’t take foolish risks that compromise your safety.”

  “You mean like the times you confronted killers alone without a weapon?”

  “Exactly. But I’m older than you are, and you have your whole life ahead of you.”

  “What does being older have to do with it?”

  “Never mind that.” Hannah knew her logic was falling apart, and she thought fast. “The whole point is, I’m your older sister and you’re obligated to listen to me. And I’m telling you not to take foolish chances. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

  Michelle looked properly chastised. “You’re right. But I really wasn’t taking chances. I had my cell phone programmed for a one-button call to the sheriff’s department, just in case.”

  “Okay,” Hannah said, willing to let the subject drop for the moment. “Let’s get out of here before something bad happens. And I’ve got the feeling that something bad happens here every ten minutes or so.”

  “Give,” Hannah said, putting on the most determined expression she could muster. “Michelle doesn’t know what you said to Tasha’s brother, because she couldn’t hear you over the music. Tell us what made him back off like that.”

  Norman reached for another Spicy Dream and dunked it into his fresh cup of coffee. Andrea had found the cookies in the back of Hannah’s truck on the way home, and only threats of imminent death had kept her from eating them all by herself. “These are really good, Hannah.”

  “I know. Lindy finally got around to sending me the recipe.”

  “Lindy Frank?” Andrea asked, taking another cookie for herself.

  “Yes. She made them for the Fourth of July picnic two years ago. She was going to give me the recipe then, but her husband got transferred, and in all the excitement of moving and everything, she forgot.”

  “They really are good, especially with coffee,” Norman said.

  “And you’re really good at changing the subject,” Hannah shot back. “Tell us what you said to that Hicks brother.”

  “It’s really not that important.”

  “Yes, it is. I may die of curiosity if you don’t tell me, and so will Andrea and Michelle.”

  “Right,” Andrea confirmed.

  “Absolutely,” Michelle agreed. “Right before you came up and tapped him on the shoulder, he was trying to get me to come out to the parking lot with him so he could show me his truck.”

  Andrea’s mouth dropped open. “You didn’t believe that tired old line, did you?”

  “Of course not. I wasn’t born yesterday. I figured it wasn’t going to be easy to get rid of him, but Norman just said a couple of words to him and he backed right off.”

  “It was nothing.” Norman gave a little shrug, but his eyes were crinkling at the corners and Hannah could tell he was enjoying himself.

  “Give,” Hannah repeated, grabbing the plate with the cookies and pulling them over to her side of the table. “No more Spicy Dreams for you if you don’t tell us what you said.”

  “Okay,” Norman agreed, capitulating with good grace. “All I said was, Hey, buddy. There’s a sheriff’s deputy over there, and I think he’s looking for you or one of your brothers. He said something about a warrant, so I figured I should tell you. And I didn’t say any more than that because by then he was leaving. Really fast.”

  “But…” Andrea looked confused. “There aren’t any warrants outstanding against the Hicks brothers, are there?”

  Norman shrugged. “I don’t know, but I figured it was like that old saying my grandmother used. It was, Lecture your children every day. You may not know what they did wrong, but they do!”

  Hannah laughed, although she was sure that Norman wouldn’t lecture his children the way his grandmother had advised. All the same, it had worked with the Hicks brothers and gotten them out of the Eagle without any trouble, and that was something.

  “Thank you, Norman!” Michelle sounded very grateful. “I don’t think I was in over my head, but that’s the trouble about being in over your head. You never think you are. That place was horrible. I’m really glad that all of you came to get me.”

  “You’re our little sister. Of course we came out to get you,” Andrea said, giving Michelle a little hug.

  “That’s right,” Hannah told her. “But don’t be running off on your own again without telling someone where you’re going.”

  “I promise I won’t. But I found out where the Hicks brothers were last night.”

  “Where?” all three of them asked, almost in unison.

  “At the Golden Wheel Speedway. One of their friends was in a demolition derby and they went to watch him. And on their way home, they were stopped by the highway patrol for speeding.” Michelle turned to Andrea. “Bill can check out that alibi, can’t he?”

  “You bet he can.”

  “And when he confirms it, I can cross three suspects off our list,” Hannah said, smiling at her sister. “Good work, Michelle. And now you’d better get som
e sleep. You’ve got a full day tomorrow.”

  When Michelle had left for the guest bedroom, Andrea stood up. She said her goodbyes and got ready to head down to the garage.

  “Hold on, and I’ll go with you,” Norman said, giving Hannah a quick kiss and walking to the door with Andrea. “I know this complex is safe, but it’s almost one in the morning and you shouldn’t be walking anywhere alone.”

  Hannah saw them to the door, closed and double-locked it behind them, and settled back down on the couch to flick through the cable channels. Moishe came to sit beside her, but after a few pats, he jumped up to the carpeted ledge by the window again.

  The Food Channel was doing something with ramps, and since Hannah had no idea what they were, she watched. It turned out that ramps were simply wild leeks that grew in the southern United States. They’d been around for years, but the Food Channel had made them a desirable item that a lot of grocery stores were now carrying. It was almost the same as Chilean sea bass. In the nineteen-seventies, it was called the Patagonian tooth fish and nobody wanted it. It was sold mainly for fish sticks. Then a marketing firm was hired to promote the tooth fish, and they gave it another name, Chilean sea bass. Hannah had tasted it out at the Lake Eden Inn, and it was delicious. It was also expensive because its sudden popularity caused it to become overfished, and it was heading for the rare fish section of the ichthyic phylum.

  Once the scalloped potatoes made with ramps had been served on a gorgeous platter that would have cost Hannah a day’s receipts at The Cookie Jar, she switched off the television and got up. She was about to head for the bedroom when the doorbell rang.

  Andrea, who’d forgotten something? Norman? He might have come back for some reason? Or Willa’s killer, who’d found out she was sleuthing and had ferreted out her address and come here to kill her?

  Hannah walked to the door and looked through the peephole. As usual, she couldn’t see her caller’s face, but she did recognize the insignia over the breast pocket of the Winnetka County Sheriff’s Department windbreaker. Mike, or Bill, or Lonnie. Unless they were here to cite her for some silly health board infraction, she was safe.

  “Hi, Hannah,” Mike greeted her when she pulled open the door. “I didn’t want to wake you, but your lights were still on so I knew you weren’t in bed.”

  “Right. Come in, Mike. There’s coffee left in the pot if you want some.”

  “No, I’m on my way home. And I’m hoping that I can get some sleep tonight. I just stopped in to tell you that the cookies were delicious, and I hope you’re not still mad at me for calling Miss Sunquist the victim.”

  “I’m not. I know you have to depersonalize things.” Hannah repeated what she’d overheard him say at the sheriff’s station. “It’s okay, Mike. Really.”

  “Good. My world’s not right when you’re mad at me.”

  And with that said, Mike pulled her into his arms and kissed her so hard, it almost bruised her lips. And then he gave her another hug and a much gentler kiss. With a wave, he let himself out the door and was gone before Hannah could do more than gasp for breath.

  When she recovered enough to move, Hannah double-locked the door. Less than twenty-four hours ago, she’d written Mike off, banished him from that special corner of her heart, and decided that Norman was the man for her. And then she’d overheard Mike talking to Lonnie, and she understood why he’d appeared to be so uncaring about Willa. And now he’d come to apologize again, something she never thought he’d do, and he said his world wasn’t right without her. That put him right back in the running, tied for prospective fiancé with Norman again.

  It was impossible for her to go to bed now, not when Mike had left her this unsettled. Hannah sat back down on the couch and patted the spot beside her, hoping that Moishe would leave his perch and come to sit on the couch with her.

  For once, her cat came immediately. He settled down in her lap, gave her hand a lick, and began to purr contentedly. Hannah smiled as she stroked his soft fur and scratched him behind his ears. Moishe was her only constant, the one male in her life that she could rely on to give her unconditional…

  “Ouch!” Hannah gasped as her normally accommodating pet let out a tigerlike growl, dug his claws in, and leapt from her lap. Another leap and he was on the carpeted ledge that Michelle had bought for him, staring out the window into the darkness.

  “Whatever got into you?” Hannah asked, not expecting an answer. And then she massaged both thighs where eight separate claws had punctured her jeans. It was clear that Moishe was on his own mission, staring out the window at something she couldn’t see but that totally fascinated him.

  “Maybe it’s the nature of the beast,” Hannah muttered, heading off to her bedroom. “Just when you think you’ve got the male of the species all figured out, they go and change the rules on you.”

  SPICY DREAMS

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

  Hannah’s 1st Note: This recipe is from Lindy Frank and I’m glad she finally sent it to me. Her cookies disappear faster than a Popsicle on a hot day. Lindy calls these cookies “Ginger Cookies,” but since we already serve a cookie by that name down at The Cookie Jar, we’ve renamed these “Spicy Dreams.”

  Hannah’s 2nd Note: Lindy says to tell you that she makes these cookies festive by using colored sugar for holidays, i.e., pink for Valentine’s Day, orange for Halloween, green for St. Pat’s Day, etc.

  1 cup soft butter (2 sticks, 8 ounces, ½

  1 lb, 6 oz white granulated sugar (2 2/3 cups)

  3 eggs

  1 cup molasses

  2 Tablespoons vinegar (white will do just fine)

  2 Tablespoons baking soda

  4 teaspoons ground ginger

  1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

  1 teaspoon ground cloves

  1 teaspoon ground cardamom

  1 lb, 12 oz all purpose flour (6 cups—not sifted)

  ½ cup powdered (confectioner’s) sugar, for rolling***

  Mix the butter and the sugar together and beat them with a mixer or a spoon until they look nice and fluffy. (That’s what the phrase “cream the butter and sugar” means if you see it in another recipe.)

  Add the eggs one at a time, mixing thoroughly after each addition.

  Mix in the molasses and the vinegar. (I always spray the inside of my measuring cup with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray before I pour in the molasses. Then it glops right out without sticking to the sides.)

  Lindy sifts the flour, baking soda, ginger, cinnamon, cloves, and cardamom together before she mixes them in with the wet ingredients. (She also weighs the flour and the sugar the way a true pastry chef would do.) That means she’s probably a better baker than I am, because I don’t do any of that. I just mix in the baking soda first, and then the spices. I stir everything up thoroughly, and then I add the flour in one-cup increments, stirring after each cup is added.

  Use your hands to roll the dough into walnut-sized balls. If the dough is too sticky, put it in the refrigerator a half-hour or so—that’ll make it easier to roll.

  Put the powdered sugar in a small bowl and roll the balls in it. Place them on a greased cookie sheet (I used Pam), 12 cookie balls to a standard-size sheet. Press them down just a bit when you place them on the sheet so they won’t roll off when you carry them to the oven. You don’t have to flatten them. They’ll spread out all by themselves while they bake.

  Bake the cookies at 350 degrees F., for 10 to 12 minutes. (Mine took only 10 minutes.)

  Let the cookies cool for a minute or two on the cookie sheet and then move them to a wire rack to finish cooling.

  Yield: Approximately 10 dozen, depending on cookie size.

  Chapter Twenty

  “More coffee to get us thinking straight?” Lisa asked, bringing the carafe to the back table and pouring them all another cup. They were having a strategy meeting at The Cookie Jar, and they had less than an hour before the first customers would arrive. Hannah had called th
e meeting so that they could go over the suspect list.

  Norman had called in to cancel. He was whitening Bertie Straub’s teeth before her first appointment at the Cut ’n Curl. It was an old-fashioned barter. Norman whitened Bertie’s teeth, and Bertie gave Carrie a special treatment guaranteed to give her hair a glorious sheen.

  “Thanks, Lisa. I can use this.” Andrea took a sip of her coffee and smiled. “I’m not used to getting up this early. And I didn’t get to bed until almost two. I don’t have bags under my eyes, do I?”

  Michelle leaned over to take a look. “No bags.”

  “Let me see,” Hannah said, looking deeply into her sister’s eyes. “Michelle’s right. No bags. Your eyes are a funny shade of red, but other than that…”

  Andrea let out a shriek that would have raised the dead and jumped up. “Call Jon at home. He’s just got to open early so I can get some eye drops. Tracey and I have to be on stage at two for the mother-daughter judging, and we’re not going to win if I’ve got a case of redeye!”

  “Relax.” Hannah pulled her sister back down. “Your eyes are fine. I was just kidding.”

  “Don’t do that. It’s mean!” Andrea said petulantly. But then she started to laugh. “The last time I said that, I hit you with a pillow.”

  “I remember. It broke open and the feathers flew all over.”

  “And we had to clean it up and try to sew it back together before Mother got home from the grocery store.”