by Joanne Fluke
“I’m looking for my watch. I think I dropped it inside the day we found Rhonda’s body. Mother and I were packing up things for her store and it must have fallen off my wrist.”
“I wish I could let you look, but I can’t let anyone inside.”
“That’s okay, Rick. I figured that. But you can go inside and look for it, can’t you?”
“I’m not allowed inside, either. The only authorized personnel are the detectives working the case. Sorry, Hannah.”
Hannah gave a deep sigh and then she brightened visibly. “How about just peeking in through the windows? If we spot it, I can ask Bill or Mike to get it the next time they come out here.”
“Well…I guess that’d be okay. They didn’t say anything about looking in through the windows.”
“Great.” Hannah gave him a warm smile. “I’ll start on one side of the house and you can start on the other. That way you’ll be back at your post twice as fast.”
“Sounds good. What does this watch of yours look like?”
Hannah froze for a millisecond. She should have anticipated that question. To cover her momentary lapse, she described her present watch. “It’s a waterproof watch with a round face and it’s got a black band.”
“Like the ones in the window at the drugstore?”
“Exactly. As a matter of fact, that’s where it came from. I know I didn’t take it off, so the band must have broken. It’s probably on the floor in one of the rooms.”
The moment Rick disappeared around his side of the house, Hannah made a beeline for the basement windows on the other side. She pulled Lisa’s camera out of her purse and clicked off a dozen fast shots, alternating between the four basement windows. By the time she was finished, Rick was rounding the back of the house and Hannah quickly stuffed the camera back into her purse. “Hi, Rick. Any luck?”
“No. You didn’t spot it, either?”
Hannah shook her head, doing her best to appear disappointed. “I’m not even sure I lost it out here, but I thought it was worth a look.”
Once she’d chatted with Rick for a few more moments, Hannah walked back to her truck. She didn’t think he’d been suspicious about her request, but she didn’t put her watch back on until she pulled up in front of the Rhodes Dental Clinic, ten minutes later.
“Hi, Norman,” Hannah called out when she came through the door. “I’ve got a photographic emergency.”
“A what?” Norman slid aside the little glass doors at the reception desk and peered out.
“A photographic emergency. I just took some pictures and I need to have them developed as fast as I can.”
“Let me check my schedule.” Norman flipped the page in his appointment book. “Okay. I’ve got Mrs. Walters coming in at nine, but Mayor Bascomb canceled his ten o’clock. If I don’t have an emergency, I’m free from ten to twelve-thirty.”
“Then you’ll develop my film?”
“That depends,” Norman said. “I assume it has something to do with Rhonda’s murder?”
“Photos of the crime scene. I ran out there this morning and took them through the basement window. Don’t mention that to anybody. I had to pull a fast one to do it.”
“Okay. Did you use a flash?”
“No. I taped over it so it wouldn’t glare against the glass.”
Norman looked pleased. “I should have known you’d think of that. How about the light? Was it dark in the basement?”
“Yes, but there was some light coming in through the windows. The disposable camera I used didn’t have any way of changing the settings.”
Norman took the camera Hannah passed through the window and glanced at it. “It’ll be okay. I can push the negatives.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s like baking your cookies at a higher temperature to make them crisper.”
“If I did that, I’d burn them!”
Norman laughed. “I never claimed to be a baker. Don’t worry about it, Hannah. I’ll play some tricks in the darkroom and get all I can for you.”
“Thanks, Norman. Do you think you can have them ready by noon and drop them off at The Cookie Jar?”
“Yes, but I didn’t say I’d do them yet.”
“You didn’t?”
“No. When you asked me, I said, It depends .”
“On what?”
“On your Orange Snaps. Would you bake a couple dozen for me to give to my mother? She’s almost forgiven me for not consulting her about the house and your Orange Snaps are her favorites. I figure they ought to get me back in her good graces.”
“I’ll mix them up the minute I get back to the shop.”
The street door opened and Mrs. Walters walked in. Hannah greeted her and then she headed back out to her truck. She’d bake the Orange Snaps because Norman had asked her to, but his plan wouldn’t work. Carrie was every bit as stubborn as Delores and there wasn’t a cookie in the world that could pull either mother out of a snit.
“Mike’s here, Hannah,” Lisa said, poking her head into the kitchen. “He says he has to talk to you about something important.”
“Okay. Will you give him a cup of coffee and send him back here?”
Hannah sighed as she finished packaging the Orange Snaps for Norman. Mike had probably found out about her early morning trip to the Voelker place and he’d come to find out what she’d really been doing.
“Hannah,” Mike greeted her when he came into the kitchen. “What’s all this about a watch you lost at the crime scene? Didn’t you have it on last night when we got together at your mother’s cottage?”
Hannah sighed and decided to tell the truth. “The watch was just an excuse. I needed to take another look at the basement and I didn’t have time to call you or Bill for permission.”
“So you made up that story and Rick bought it?” Mike looked absolutely incredulous.
“Yes, but I didn’t go inside. I just looked in through the windows to see if the basement was the way I remembered it.”
Mike shook his head. “Rick’s going to have to develop a basic mistrust of people or he’ll never be a good detective.”
“Is that what you have? A basic mistrust of people?”
“I guess so.”
“Isn’t life a lot harder that way?”
Mike opened his mouth and Hannah could tell he was ready to deny it, but then he shrugged. “I guess it is. That’s a big difference between us. You trust almost everybody and I don’t trust much of anybody.”
“But you do trust me, don’t you?”
“Yes, and I shouldn’t. You’ve lied to me enough times.”
“I never lied!” Hannah’s eyes flashed a warning. “I just…omitted a few things and misled you.”
“Water under the bridge,” Mike said, looking amused as he took a stool at the work island. “So you needed another look at the crime scene?”
“That’s right. I realized that after I spotted Rhonda’s body, I really didn’t look around at anything else.”
“Okay. I’ll buy that. But why didn’t you just ask me if you could see the crime-scene photos?”
“If I’d asked, would it have done me any good?”
“Probably not.” Mike laughed and suddenly he was much friendlier. “I’m sorry, Hannah. I’m just not used to sharing the details of an investigation with anyone. I work best alone.”
“How about Bill?”
“He’s got access to the case file. I don’t cut him out of it deliberately, but I tend to keep things to myself, especially those crazy theories that come to me in the middle of the night. I’ve always been that way. I guess I’m just a loner by nature. We’re really a lot different, you know? Maybe that’s why I value you so much.”
“I’m the yin to your yang?”
“Yeah.” Mike chuckled. “So…what did you find out?”
“Not a darned thing.”
“Nothing?”
“Not really. Everything in that basement was just as I remembered it. It was probably a w
asted trip.”
Mike stood up and walked over to put his arm around her shoulders. “It’s usually a wasted trip, but we have to keep on trying. That’s one thing I’m sure of. Rhonda didn’t deserve to die violently. We have to find her killer and punish him.”
“I know.” Hannah felt real warmth for this man who haunted her dreams. He had ideals, he was compassionate, and he’d said, WE have to find her killer and punish him. Mike had included her, and that meant he’d accepted her. “So are you going to tell me what you’ve found out so far?”
“No.”
“No?”
“Maybe later, but not now. I’ve got something I’ve been working on and I’m not ready to tell anybody about it.”
Hannah’s mouth dropped open. “But you expect me to tell you all about my investigation?”
“Of course I do. You’re the amateur and I’m the professional. That’s not meant to put you down, Hannah. That’s just the way it is.”
“But…”
“I’ve got to run.” Mike set down his coffee cup and pulled her into his arms for a quick hug. “See you later, okay?”
After Mike left, Hannah stared at the swinging door until it stopped wiggling. Then she turned back to her work with a scowl on her face. Either Mike hadn’t noticed her lack of response when he’d hugged her, or he’d ignored her anger, intending to deal with it later. Neither possibility pleased her. There was still fire in her eyes ten minutes later when Lisa stuck her head into the kitchen again.
“Norman’s here,” Lisa announced before she noticed the expression on Hannah’s face. “Oh-oh. Did you have a fight with Mike?”
“I did. He didn’t. I don’t think he even knew I was mad at him.”
Lisa opened her mouth to respond, but she must have thought better of it because she just shrugged. “Do you want me to send Norman back here?”
“Yes. Thanks, Lisa. And if Mike comes back in, cut off his free coffee and cookies. He can pay just like everybody else.”
“How about Norman?” Lisa asked.
Hannah’s anger evaporated and she started to grin. “You can give him whatever he wants…at least for now.”
Orange Snaps
Don’t preheat the oven yet—
this cookie dough has to chill
1½ cups melted butter (3 sticks )
2 cups white sugar
½ cup frozen orange juice concentrate (I use Minute Maid )
2 beaten eggs (just beat them up with a fork)
4 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
½ to 1 teaspoon orange zest*
4 cups flour (you don’t have to sift it)
1/3 cup white sugar for later
Melt the butter in a large microwave-safe bowl. Add the sugar and orange juice concentrate, and stir. Let the mixture cool slightly. Add the eggs, baking soda, salt, and orange zest, stirring after each addition. Add the flour in increments and mix thoroughly. Cover the bowl and refrigerate the dough at least 2 hours (overnight’s even better).
When you’re ready to bake, preheat your oven to 350 degrees F., with rack in the middle position.
Roll the chilled dough into walnut-sized balls with your hands. Put 1/3 cup white sugar in a small bowl and roll the balls in it. Place them on a greased cookie sheet, 12 to a sheet. Press the dough balls down just a little so they won’t roll off on the floor when you put them in the oven.
Bake for 10 to 12 minutes at 350 degrees F. The dough balls will flatten out all by themselves. Let the cookies cool for 2 minutes on the cookie sheet and then move them to a wire rack to finish cooling.
These cookies freeze well. Roll them up in foil, put them in a freezer bag, and they’ll be fine for 3 months or so, if they last that long.
Yield: approximately 10 dozen thin cookies, depending on cookie size.
(Tracey loves these cookies and she’s almost managed to convince Andrea that she can have them in place of orange juice for breakfast.)
Chapter
Twenty-Three
“S ee anything new?” Norman asked after Hannah had rifled through the stacks of prints.
“Not a thing. How about you?”
“I don’t know if this is important, but the canning jars in the furnace room are a lot smaller than the canning jars in the rest of the basement.”
“That’s right. The ones in the furnace room are small-size mayonnaise jars and Mrs. Voelker used them to put up her jams and jellies.”
“Why not use regular canning jars?”
“Some people do, but canning jars are more expensive and you can put jam in any kind of glass container if you seal it with wax on the top.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“It’s true. When my college roommate got married, I was a bridesmaid and by the time I’d paid for my dress, I didn’t have much money left for a gift. I bought a dozen wineglasses on sale, filled them with homemade grape jelly, and gave them as my wedding present.”
“That’s very you, Hannah.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s sweet, and practical, and…” Norman shrugged. “It’s just something you’d do, that’s all. You’d make a great wife for a man with no money.”
“Thanks…I think.” Hannah chuckled. It was a strange thing to say, but she was sure it was meant as a compliment.
“I’d better get going. I’ve got a case of gum disease in ten minutes.”
Hannah’s chuckle turned into a laugh and she was still laughing as Norman picked up his package of Orange Snaps and headed out the door.
Lisa looked at the last print and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Hannah. I don’t see anything even approaching a clue.”
“Neither did we.” Hannah gathered up the prints and stuck them back into the envelope Norman had brought. “I still have the feeling I’m missing something, but I don’t know what it is.”
“You could always borrow Dad’s technique. He says if he thinks of something else, the thing he was trying to think of usually pops right into his head.”
“At this point, I’m willing to try anything. I’ll make the cookie deliveries. I always think best when I’m working.”
“Okay.” Lisa reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a list. “On your way back could you stop at the Red Owl? I thought of a dessert to make for tomorrow, but I need a few things.”
“No problem. What are you making?”
“Cupcakes decorated especially for the Fourth. They’re going to be really exciting, Hannah.”
“I’m sure they will be.” Hannah was smiling as she went back to the kitchen to pack up the cookies for delivery. She’d never thought of cupcakes as being particularly exciting before, but perhaps Lisa was on to something.
“Thanks for driving me, Andrea,” Hannah said, collapsing into the passenger’s seat and leaning her head back against the headrest. Andrea had arrived just as she was about to load her cookie deliveries and offered to drive Hannah in her car. “That’s the last of them. Just drop me at my truck and I’ll run to the Red Owl.”
“I can stop at the Red Owl. I have to pick up some things for tomorrow anyway.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive,” Andrea said and turned to smile at Hannah. “Besides, I want to collect my share of thanks for renting the second floor to Danielle. If she hadn’t come along, it’d still be vacant.”
By the time Andrea pulled up outside the Red Owl in her Volvo, the shower that had been threatening all afternoon with dark skies and occasional flashes of lightning had turned into a full-scale downpour. Andrea took one look at the fat raindrops pelting down on the windshield and suggested they wait until the worst of the rain had subsided.
“Good idea,” Hannah said, wondering what they’d find to talk about. The Cookie Jar float was a taboo subject, but the murder case wasn’t. “I’d like to show you some crime-scene photos.”
“No way,” Andrea said, shivering slightly.
“Why not?”
; “Because I don’t like gore in any way, shape, or form. I don’t even let Bill show me crime-scene photos.”
“These aren’t gory. It’s just Mrs. Voelker’s basement and the furnace room, that’s all.”
“Then there’s no body?”
Hannah shook her head. “No body.”
“That might be okay. But if there’s nothing there, why do you want me to see them?”
“Just look and tell me if you see anything that looks out of place.”
“What’s wrong with this picture?” Andrea asked, smiling at her sister. They’d both had Miss Gladke in second grade and that had been one of her favorite techniques to get the class involved in a discussion.
“Right.” Hannah reached in her purse and drew out the envelope of prints that Norman had developed.
Andrea took her time paging through the prints. By the time she’d finished examining each one, the inside of her windshield was steaming up. “What happened to the rain gutters?”
“Where?” Hannah asked, glancing down at the top photo on Andrea’s stack.
“On cars. Heaven knows my Volvo was expensive enough and it’s got everything else. Remember the little ledge Dad used to have above the windows in the Chrysler? He could roll down the windows and the rain wouldn’t come in.”
Hannah knew Andrea was off on a tangent, but she understood her sister’s reasoning. It was getting pretty steamy in her closed car. “So did you notice anything in the pictures?”
“Nothing really jumped out at me except those mayo jars.” Andrea flipped to the picture of the shelves behind the furnace.
“But they’re not unusual. Lots of people save mayo jars for jams and jellies. Don’t you remember how Grandma Ingrid used to bring us mayo jars full of rhubarb jam?”