by Joanne Fluke
"I remember him," Sean said. "Winnie Henderson was here buying new wiper blades and he offered to put them on for her. He sure seemed like a nice guy to me."
"That's what Earl said. We're just trying to find out if he has an alibi for the time of the murder. Did you see him get on the bus?"
"Yes. I was out front pumping gas and I saw him board."
"Where was he going?" Andrea asked.
Sean shrugged. "North. That's all I know. We're just a stop on the highway. The driver pulls up and honks his horn and the passengers go out to buy their tickets directly from him."
"He'll be back here around noon if you want to talk to him," Don added. "He's got a short run on Saturdays."
Andrea reached in her purse, pulled out two business cards, and handed one to each twin. "Could you have him call me on my cell phone when he gets in? It's really important."
"Okay," Sean promised, and then he turned to his brother. "You stand in front of the bus so he can't pull out, and I'll drag him in to the phone."
"No, you stand in front of the bus," Don objected.
Hannah grinned. The twins had a long history of arguing with each other. "Just work it out before noon. I don't care who does what as long as that driver calls Andrea before he puts his bus back in gear."
"Can I go see Grandma again?" Tracey asked, trudging through the snow to Hannah's cookie truck. "Please, Mommy?"
"Are you sure Grandma wants you to come back?"
"I'm positive. Grandma said she'd find a dress for me to wear, and I can help her show off her house. And Grandma Carrie said Uncle Norman would take my picture, too."
Hannah's eyebrows shot up. "Grandma Carrie?"
"That's what she told me to call her. And my real grandma said it was okay, because someone was bound to come to their senses eventually."
"Oh, brother!" Hannah muttered.
Tracey climbed into the back of the van and waited for her mother to get in. Once Andrea was settled in her seat, Tracey tapped her on the shoulder. "Why does Aunt Hannah look so funny? Does she have a headache?"
"I think she does."
"Then you should give her an aspirin, but we have to know exactly what kind of headache it is. It's very important."
"Why is that?" Hannah asked her.
"Because they have aspirin for different types of head. aches. I learned all about it on TV. What type of headache is yours, Aunt Hannah?"
"It's the mother of all headaches," Hannah quipped, "and if they ever invent a special aspirin for that, I'll buy a whole case."
Hannah and Andrea waited in the back room of the Ezekiel Jordan House while Delores helped Tracey change into a costume of one of the two dressing rooms. Hannah opened the door to take a peek at the unoccupied cubicle and was surprised to see that her mother had decorated it to look like a man's dressing room. The wallpaper was gray with a silver stripe, and hunting prints hung on the walls. There was an oval mirror on a stand, a wooden rack with ball-and-claw feet that had been fashioned to hold items of clothing, and a high-backed chair sitting next to a table that sported a set of silver-backed brushes and combs.
'Oh, Hannah! Just look at this darling dress!'
Hannah shut the door and turned to look at her sister, who was examining the contents of a chifforobe that had been placed against the far wall. A variety of women's dresses hung inside, and Andrea removed a burgundy silk and held it up for her to see.
'I think I'll wear this for my picture. What do you think?''
'It's a nice color,' Hannah said, frowning a bit at the tight waistline. From where she was standing, it looked ridiculously small. 'Are you sure it's not too small for you?'
'I can get into it. It comes with a corset that pushes you up and nips you in at the waist. One of the maid's jobs was to lace you in.'
'What if you didn't have a maid?'
'Then you looped the strings around a bedpost and used it to pull them tight. You've seen pictures from that period. That's why all the fashionable women had hour-glass figures.'
'And misshapen ribs,' Hannah added. 'They also fainted a lot, probably because they couldn't breathe.'
'It'll only be for a couple of minutes, just until Norman snaps the picture, and I want to look authentic. I think I should ask Bill to wear one of those tall silk hats.'
Hannah glanced up at the rack that held the hats and began to chuckle. The only hat her brother-in-law liked was a baseball cap. 'Do you think he'll do it?'
'Of course he will. Bill will do anything to make me happy. How about you? What are you going to wear?'
'I'm not having my picture taken.'
"Yes, you are. Mother signed you up for a group picture with us. She wants to hang it on her wall."
Hannah groaned. The camera was her worst enemy. The darned thing always caught her with a crooked smile or one eye half-closed. To refuse to be in the portrait would mean an argument with Andrea and her mother, and she just didn't have the energy for that. "I'll do it, but I'll be the unfashionable aunt At least I won't have to wear a corset that way."
"But it's going to hang on Mother's wall. You really should look your best Just let me find something in here for you and . . ."
"Look at me, Mommy!" Tracey called out, emerging from the dressing room in a sky blue dress with a ruffled white pinafore. "Grandma says I look precious, and she even gave me this old teddy bear to carry around."
"Antique teddy bear," Delores corrected her. "It's a Steiff, and you have to be very careful with it. It belonged to Ezekiel Jordan's youngest daughter."
"I will, Grandma. I promise."
"Let's go, dear." Delores herded her toward the door that connected with the main part of the house. "You'll say your speech right after you enter the girls' room upstairs."
"I know, Grandma. 'This is my room. I sleep here with my sisters, Emily, Catherine, and Lucinda. My father and mother gave me this teddy bear for my fourth birthday. His name is Brownie and I love him very much.' "
"Wonderful!" Delores clapped her hands and then turned to them. "Tell Tracey how wonderful she was, girls."
"You were wonderful, honey," Andrea said with a smile.
"Yes, you were," Hannah seconded. "Do you have any more to say?"
"Just one more thing. When the guests are ready to leave, stand by the front door and say, 'Thank you for coming to see the Ezekiel Jordan House that my Grandma Delores and my Grandma Carrie made.' "
The words Grandma Carrie set off warning bells in Hannah's mind. Every Lake Eden resident who took the tour would hear Tracey, and the phone lines would overload with rumors that she was about to marry Norman.
"We'd better run along, dear," Delores said, taking Tracey's hand. "Our audience is waiting."
Hannah walked over to grab her mother's arm. "Go ahead, Tracey. I need to talk to your grandma for a minute." She waited until Tracey was well out of earshot, and then she turned to her mother with fire in her eyes. "How could you, Mother! You know what people are going to think if Tracey calls . . ."
"Delores? I'm early." The back door opened and Luanne Hanks rushed in. cutting Hannah off in the middle of her planned tirade. She stopped short as she saw Andrea and Hannah, and then her face lit up in a smile. "Hi, Andrea. Hello, Hannah. How are you two? I haven't seen you in a while."
"We're fine," Hannah said, putting on a smile for Luanne's benefit.
Luanne caught the tension in the air and she glanced uneasily between Hannah and Delores. "Uh . . . if you're busy right now, I can come back later."
"No, dear." Delores shook her head. "I have to check on the tour group. Stay and visit with Andrea and Hannah until I get back."
Hannah sighed as her mother made good her escape. They would definitely have words later. Then she noticed that Luanne was carrying her Pretty Girl cosmetic case. "Are the portraits starting early?"
"No, I just came in to chat with your mother."
"You're not working at the caf' today?" Andrea asked her.
"I'm on vacation. Rose fi
gured there wouldn't be much business, and she told me to take a week off."
"I hope it's a paid vacation." Hannah knew that Luanne needed every cent she could earn to support her mother and her two-year-old daughter, Susie.
"It is. Rose is paying me my regular salary and Norman's paying me, too. I'm making double the money for half the hours."
"That's great, Luanne!" Hannah was relieved. "That's not the half of it. If the ladies who come in like Pretty Girl makeup, I might get some new customers."
'That reminds me," Andrea said. "I'm completely out of mascara and eyeliner. Do you have any with you?"
Hannah silently blessed her sister as Luanne opened her makeup kit and gathered up the items that Andrea had mentioned. She knew Andrea didn't use Pretty Girl makeup, but she bought it anyway to help Luanne. Hannah had done the same, and she had a guest bathroom medicine cabinet filled with unused makeup to prove it. Adding a few more things to the collection wouldn't break her budget, and Hannah walked over to the table where Luanne had set her makeup case. "I need another lipstick, Luanne."
"Where did the last one go?" Luanne asked, giving Hannah a suspicious look. "I've never seen you wear it."
Hannah knew that Luanne had a strong aversion to anything she regarded as charity, and she apologized to Moishe in absentia for what she was about to say. "My cat knocked it off my bathroom counter and it ended up in the toilet. I fished it out to save myself from a plumbing bill, but I didn't want to . . . well. . . you know."
"I'm really glad you didn't!" Luanne plucked a lipstick from her case. "I have your color right here, Hannah."
"Did you do Connie Mac's makeup yesterday?" Hannah asked, selecting two more items and handing Luanne the money for her purchases.
"No. I was all ready to come in, but Norman called and told me that she was having her personal beautician do it before she left the inn. I never even got to see her."
Hannah bit her tongue to keep from saying, You didn't miss much.
"Hannah?" Delores poked her head in the back room. "Could you come here for a minute?"
Hannah walked over, even though she felt like refusing. It wouldn't be polite to get into a knock-'em-down, drag-'em-out fight with her mother in front of Luanne. "What is it, Mother?"
"I thought you should know that I changed Tracey's last speech," Delores said in a hushed voice. "You were right. I overstepped."
Hannah's mouth fell open in shock. Her mother had never apologized to her before. She knew she should let sleeping dogs lie, but her curiosity got the better of her. "What made you decide to change it, Mother?"
"Carrie says Norman's going through a rebellious stage and she thought it might be pushing him too far. The last thing we want to do is upset the applecart."
TWIN CHOCOLATE DELIGHHTS
Preheat oven to 350'F, rack in the middle position
1 cup butter (2 sticks ' melted) 2 ' cups white sugar ' cup cocoa unsweetened, for baking) 2 teaspoons baking soda 1 teaspoon salt 2 teaspoons vanilla 4 beaten eggs (just whip them up with a fork) 3 cups flour (no need to sift) 1 cup chopped nuts (optional ' your choice of nut) 2 cups chocolate chips
Melt butter in a large microwave-safe bowl. Add the sugar and mix. Then add the cocoa, soda, salt, and vanilla and stir until smooth. Add the beaten eggs and stir thoroughly. Mix in the flour, the chopped nuts (if you want to use them), and then the chocolate chips.
Place rounded teaspoons of dough on a greased cookie sheet, 12 to a standard sheet. (They'll flatten out as you bake them.)
Bake at 350'F for 10 minutes. Cool on the cookie sheet for 2 minutes, then remove them to a wire rack to complete cooling.
Mother loves these cookies. If I bake them when she's mad at me, she sweetens right up.
Twin Chocolate Delights cookies should freeze well, but I can't swear to that 'they never lat long enough to try it.
-14- 'Do you want to put your coat in a locker?" Andrea asked as they entered the Tri-County Mall.
"No, we won't be here that long." Hannah gazed around her at the throngs of people. "It's only ten-thirty. What are all these people doing out here so early?"
"The mall opens at nine and a lot of people make a day of it. What other place could you go to jog in the morning with the family, have lunch at a restaurant, watch a movie at the multiplex, mail your packages at the post office, buy a new book at the bookstore, and get your hair done while your kids play computer games? Malls are wonderful in the winter."
"I guess that's true," Hannah said.
"And in the summer they're just as nice. You can do all the same things in air-conditioned comfort, Without ever having to swat at a single mosquito. If they'd put in a school, for Tracey and let us sleep in a couple of the display bedrooms at the furniture store, I could live out here and be perfectly happy."
"Not me," Hannah said. "There's something about a controlled environment that makes me crazy. It's too much like being in jail."
Andrea turned to her in surprise. "Have you ever been there? In jail, I mean?"
"No, but that could change in a hurry if Mike finds out what we're doing."
Andrea agreed and dropped the subject, leading the way to the escalator. "Connie Mac's boutique is on the second level, where Greg Canfield's import store used to be."
The two sisters rode up to the second level in silence, and when they stepped off, Andrea sighed deeply. "If they haven't heard about Connie Mac's murder, you're going to tell them, not me. You stuck me with telling Alex and I don't want to do that again."
"Relax," Hannah reassured her. "Unless they're living in a plastic bubble out here, they've heard."
The kitchen boutique was in a prime location in the middle of the mall, only a few feet from the escalator. Giant banners in the window proclaimed, "Grand Opening Monday,' and Andrea and Hannah walked closer to peer in the windows.
"There's a woman inside stocking the shelves," Andrea announced, trying the door and turning back to Hannah with a frown, "but the door's locked."
"Knock."
"But they're closed until their grand opening on Monday. It says so right on the sign."
"Knock anyway." Andrea raised her hand and knocked softly on the glass door.
"She can't hear that. Knock louder." Andrea gave a solid knock on the door, and the woman looked up from her work. Andrea knocked again and the woman walked toward the door, pointing up at the sign.
"Now what?" Andrea asked. "She's not going to let us in."
"Yes, she will." Hannah moved up to the door with a friendly smile on her face and motioned for the woman in the smart business suit to come forward. She looked like some sort of corporate executive. Under other circumstances, Hannah would have avoided her like the plague, but she needed information from someone who'd worked for Connie Mac, and this was her best shot.
"I'm sorry, we're closed," the woman said, raising her voice so that they could hear her. "Come back on Monday for our grand opening."
"I have a question about the china in the window,' Hannah told her, moving right up to the glass.
"Just a moment," the woman answered, turning the lock on the door. She opened it and smiled what Hannah knew was her very best never-lose-a-customer smile.
"We need to buy a wedding present and we're looking for a complete dinner service for twelve. We'll need china, silver, glassware, linens. . . everything, really."
The woman's smile warmed considerably. "I really shouldn't do this since we're not officially open for business, but come in and take a look. I'm Rhea Robinson, and I manage the Connie Mac's Kitchen Boutique chain."
"This is really nice of you." Hannah matched Rhea's brilliant smile. "Our best friend's wedding is next Saturday and we have to find the perfect gift."
"I'm sure you'll find everything you need right here. We have a very extensive selection. I can't actually sell you anything today, but you could pre-choose and come back on Monday. We're giving a fifteen-percent discount to our customers on opening day."
"That's perfect
," Hannah said, turning to Andrea. "What do you think of that china in the window?"
Andrea looked startled for a moment. Then she said, "I think she'd really love it."
"How about the glassware?"
"This is beautiful," Andrea said, heading over to a table with some cut-glass crystal goblets. "We should get two water pitchers, one for each end of the table."
"It's Baccarat and it's very expensive," Rhea warned them.
"Price is no object," Andrea told her. "We want to give her the best wedding present that money can buy. How about flatware? You'll have to advise me. I know next to nothing about silver."
Rhea's eyes began to sparkle, and Hannah knew that she was hooked. Now all Hannah had to do was figure out how to ask questions about Connie Mac.
"We have some exquisite gold-plated flatware. It was very popular in the forties and it's come back into fashion. It's the very top of our line, and to make it even more special, it's Connie Mac's original design."
This was just the opening she'd been hoping for, and Hannah did her best to look worried. "I just thought of something. We were listening to the radio on the way out here and we heard that Connie Mac was. . . er . . ."
"Deceased?" Rhea supplied the word. "That's right. It's such a tragedy. And when you mentioned that the gold-plated silverware was her design, that made me worry."
"Worry?"
"Yes. What if our friend wants to buy more pieces, or replace something her staff might break? With Connie Mac dead, these stores could go out of business. We might be better off going to an older, more established place. I'm sure there are others out here at the mall."
"No, there aren't," Rhea said, stepping closer. "Connie Mac refused to sign a lease in any mall that had competing stores. She wanted to keep her image exclusive, and her boutiques are all one of a kind."
"I can understand that," Andrea agreed. "She was one of a kind. But now that she's gone, will her boutiques survive?"
"Of course. We have excellent financing, and our boutiques are very popular. And while it's true that Connie Mac did some product design, we plan to keep on producing unique products with her name. Perhaps I shouldn't say this, but other than the occasional personal appearance, Connie Mac was never actively involved with the boutiques. It's a separate division of Connie Mac Enterprises, and her husband has been in charge since the day we opened our first store."