Blueberry Muffin Murder

by Joanne Fluke

  “Because her husband didn’t report her missing when she didn’t come back to their room last night.”

  “You’re barking up the wrong tree, Hannah. Mr. MacIntyre got in late, and they have a suite with connecting bedrooms. When he didn’t hear any sounds coming from her room, he assumed that she’d already gone to sleep. He didn’t know that she wasn’t there until we called him this morning.”

  Hannah didn’t say what was running through her mind. After the nasty mood Connie Mac had been in that afternoon, she couldn’t blame Paul for not wanting to wake her. “Where was Paul MacIntyre last night?”

  “Out at the Tri-County Mall, doing a walk-through of the kitchen boutique with the mall manager. After that, they went over all the paperwork to make sure everything was in order. Alan Carpenter was with him, and they both said they didn’t get back here until after midnight.”

  “Then they’re both in the clear, right?”

  “They will be if their story checks out.” Mike reached out and took Hannah’s arm. “Did you know that Norman was at the Ezekiel Jordan House last night?”

  “He told me. He also told me that he didn’t notice anything wrong at The Cookie Jar when he left at nine.”

  “And you believed him?”

  “Of course I did.” Hannah pulled back slightly. She didn’t like the turn their conversation was taking. “What are you getting at, Mike?”

  “Something came up when we did interviews in the area this morning. We found out that Norman had a compelling reason to be angry with Mrs. MacIntyre.”

  Hannah took a giant step back and stared at Mike in shock. “You think Norman killed Connie Mac?”

  “It’s possible. I spoke to your mother and she said Mrs. MacIntyre was a royal pain when Norman photographed her. She didn’t like any of the old-fashioned costumes, and it took all of your mother’s tact to persuade her to wear one of them.”

  “My mother’s tact? My mother doesn’t have any tact! She’s even worse than I am.”

  “Maybe, but she said Mrs. MacIntyre made Norman move all his equipment at least six times, and she was very condescending to him. Your mother thought Norman showed remarkable restraint, but she could tell that he was steaming. The way I see it, Norman’s the type that suffers in silence. And then, long after the situation is over, he dwells on how ineffectual he was. It preys on his mind, you know. He thinks, I should have done this, I should have done that, but I just stood there and took it like a wimp. He gets more and more frustrated at his own inability to act until…wham! The whole thing explodes in an act of violence.”

  Hannah’s mouth dropped open. Mike was spouting pop psychology like a talk-show host. She wanted to tell him to stuff it, but that would do Norman more harm than good. “But it doesn’t track, Mike. You said that Connie Mac was killed between ten and midnight, and Norman left the Ezekiel Jordan house at nine.”

  “That’s what he says, but no one saw him leave. He could have left at ten. Or eleven.”

  “Norman was home at eleven. I called him after I got home last night.”

  “Why did you call him?”

  “Just to talk,” Hannah said, not wanting to get into the real reason she’d called Norman. “He sounded perfectly normal to me.”

  “That doesn’t prove anything. If he killed her at ten, he had a whole hour to calm down. Look, Hannah…I know it’s not something you want to believe about Norman, but you’ve got to admit it’s possible it happened the way I just said.”

  Hannah closed her eyes. If she stared at Mike’s earnest face looming over hers, she’d probably hit him right in the beak. And that would bear out his theory! She took a deep breath, collected her wits, and looked up at him again.

  “Well, isn’t it possible?” Mike prodded her for an answer.

  Obviously, the man didn’t know when to quit. Hannah sighed and gathered herself to speak in her calmest, most rational voice. “No, Mike. It isn’t possible. Norman told me about all the trouble he had with Connie Mac right after we left The Cookie Jar last night. He was over being miffed with her. As a matter of fact, he was even joking about it.”

  “Of course he was. Norman wouldn’t let you know how angry he was, not if he was planning to kill Mrs. MacIntyre later.”

  “He wasn’t planning on killing her,” Hannah argued, even though she knew it wouldn’t do any good. She took a deep breath, calmed her jangled nerves, and addressed exactly what he had said about Norman’s motivation. “Listen to me, Mike. The situation with Connie Mac didn’t prey on Norman’s mind, he didn’t explode in an act of violence, and he didn’t kill Connie Mac.”

  Mike didn’t look at all convinced. “Why not?”

  “Because Norman’s not a killer. Besides, if every person Connie Mac ordered around had taken offense and clubbed her, she would have looked like a piece of Swiss steak!”

  “How do you know that? Have you been running around out here asking questions?”

  Hannah sighed. She’d already promised herself that she wouldn’t lie to him. Mislead perhaps, but not lie.

  “Have you?” Mike prodded her for an answer.

  “You have my word, Mike.” Hannah looked him straight in the eye. “I haven’t seen or spoken to any of the Connie Mac people.”

  “Then how did you know that Mrs. MacIntyre ordered people around?”

  “It’s simple. You’re forgetting that Andrea and I took her on a tour of Lake Eden. It was impossible not to notice something like that.”

  “Oh,” Mike said, appearing to accept that at face value. “For a minute there, I thought you were playing detective again.”

  “There’s no way I’ll ever play detective again,” Hannah declared, pushing down the little niggle of guilt that she felt. She wasn’t going to play at being a detective. She was going to be a detective and solve Connie Mac’s murder before he did.

  Mike reached out to give her a hug. “I’ve got to get back to work. Just promise me that you’ll be careful around Norman.”

  “Norman didn’t kill Connie Mac.”

  “I know you don’t believe that he could do it, but I understand Norman a lot better than you do.”

  “Really?” Hannah worked hard to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. As far as she knew, Mike hadn’t spent more than a few casual moments with Norman.

  “That’s right. Men understand each other better than a woman ever could. I can appreciate your loyalty to Norman, and I’m not asking you to believe that he’s the killer. I just want you to stay away from him until we find out, one way or the other.”

  Hannah stared after him as he walked out the door. In just one morning, Mike had managed to close down her business, tie her down with a promise not to interfere with his investigation, accuse a man she was dating of murder, and claim that a woman couldn’t possibly understand a man’s motives. This whole thing with Mike was enough to make her pick up the phone and make an appointment with the nearest shrink. For the life of her, she couldn’t understand how such an obstinate, boneheaded chauvinist could make her pulse race and turn her insides to jelly.

  Chapter Twelve

  Hannah had just finished stashing the last bowl of cookie dough in Sally’s walk-in cooler when Andrea came into the kitchen. There was a smile on her face and she looked excited.

  “Hi, Hannah. Sally said I’d find you in here. I got tons of information from Bill and I wrote it all down.” Andrea patted her leather organizer. “And I’ve got something else, too.”

  Hannah watched as Andrea opened her large leather purse and pulled out a bulky packet. “My recipe file?”

  “That’s right. Bill snitched it when Mike’s back was turned. He told me this kind of surface couldn’t be dusted for fingerprints anyway, but you know what kind of a stickler Mike is when it comes to procedure. He wasn’t even going to let you take your purse this morning until Bill got after him.”

  “Thank Bill for me. This saves me a whole lot of time.” Hannah gave a big sigh of relief as she took the packet. She’d
been planning to drive back to her condo to pick up copies of her recipes, and Bill had saved her the trip.

  “Before I forget, I’m supposed to tell you that Lisa’s on her way. Bill spotted them at one of the venues and he told her that you were all set up to bake out here.” Andrea took the stool next to Hannah’s and stared at her sister for a moment. “Okay. What’s wrong? Did you have a fight with Mike?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “But Mike did something, right?”

  “You could say that.”

  “Just give me the highlights,” Andrea coaxed. “I need to know what Mike said, so I can compare it to what Bill told me. That’s the only way we’ll know if they’re holding out on us.”

  Hannah hesitated. She didn’t really want to talk about her conversation with Mike, but she had learned some things about the official investigation. “Okay. Mike said they haven’t found Janie, Doc Knight put Connie Mac’s time of death between ten and midnight, the murder weapon was a heavy, rounded object, and Paul’s alibi is Alan Carpenter. Both of them claimed they were together at the boutique last night and they didn’t get back here until after midnight. Unless it’s a conspiracy, they’re both in the clear.”

  “Bill told me all that. What else?”

  “What makes you think there’s anything else?”

  “I can read it on your face.”

  Hannah caved in. Andrea had always been able to tell when she was upset. “Mike told me that Norman’s a suspect.”

  “Our Norman?” Andrea’s mouth dropped open when Hannah nodded. “But…why?”

  “Bill didn’t tell you?” Hannah answered her sister’s question with one of her own.

  “Bill didn’t say a word about Norman. Why does Mike think he’s a suspect?”

  “Mother.”

  “Our mother?”

  “One and the same. She told Mike that Connie Mac was nasty to Norman and now Mike thinks that Norman went back to The Cookie Jar last night to get even with her.”

  “That’s crazy! Bill was with Mike when they talked to Mother, and he didn’t say anything about Norman being a suspect.”

  “Maybe he didn’t want to tell you.”

  Andrea shook her head. “Bill would have told me. He tells me everything. And that means Bill doesn’t think that Norman did it, but Mike must have some reason to…” Andrea stopped in mid-sentence, and a huge grin spread over her face. “Of course. I get it.”

  “What do you get? And why are you grinning like that?”

  “Because it’s so obvious. Mike’s the only one who thinks Norman is a suspect. And that’s because he wants Norman to be guilty. Don’t you get it, Hannah?”

  Hannah thought about it for a moment and then she shrugged. “Not really. It can’t be personal. Mike’s always said he liked Norman.”

  “Naturally. He can’t admit that he’s jealous. That would make him look bad. So what does Mike do? He accuses his rival of murder. I bet he even told you to stay away from Norman. He did, didn’t he?”

  Hannah nodded. “Yes, but…”

  “I knew it. I’m right! And you didn’t even see it!”

  “See what?” Hannah was puzzled.

  “Mike’s in love with you, Hannah. That’s the reason he suspects Norman.”

  “That sounds like something Doctor Love would say.” Hannah referred to the psychologist who answered callers’ questions on KCOW talk radio. “Have you been listening to her show?”

  “Of course not. I don’t have any reason to listen. I have a very happy marriage.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Hannah said, and she was, especially since she suspected that her sister’s family was about to increase by one.

  “It’s like this, Hannah. Men in love behave irrationally. Since Mike is behaving irrationally, he must be in love in you. That’s simple logic.”

  “That’s bad logic,” Hannah corrected her. “You’re affirming the consequent.”

  “I’m doing what?”

  Hannah thought about explaining, but this wasn’t the time to give her sister a lecture in Logic 101. “Never mind. But if Mike is in love with me, why didn’t he just send me a valentine?”

  “Because Valentine’s Day is over and maybe he wasn’t in love with you then. He might have just realized it this morning. I know I’m right, Hannah. Mike is definitely in love with you.”

  Hannah made a face. “If that’s love, I don’t need it. Telling me that Norman was a suspect was an awful thing for Mike to do. He lied to me.”

  “Mike didn’t lie. Norman is a suspect, at least in Mike’s mind. I’m sure he believes he has some kind of case against Norman.”

  “But Norman didn’t kill Connie Mac.”

  “I know that, and you know that, but Mike doesn’t.”

  Hannah frowned as the full implication of her sister’s words sunk in. “But Mike’s a good cop. I can’t believe that he would make up a case against Norman.”

  “Of course he wouldn’t, but he’s going into this investigation with a bias. Innocent people have been convicted before, you know. And police work is so objective.”

  “Subjective.”

  “Okay, subjective. I always get those two mixed up. I tell you, Hannah, Mike doesn’t even know he’s biased against Norman. It’s totally unconscious.”

  “Subconscious.”

  Andrea rolled her eyes at the ceiling. “Stop correcting me. I’m trying to make a point here. I’m sure Mike will come to his senses eventually, but Norman could find himself in a lot of hot water in the meantime.”

  Hannah thought about that for a moment and then she sighed. “I hate to admit it, but you could be right. We’d better find out if Norman has an alibi.”

  “Hi, you two.” Lisa breezed into the kitchen. “I dropped Dad off at the seniors’ center and Tracey’s in the dining room with Bill and Mike. They’re having breakfast and she’s snitching their bacon.”

  “That’s fine.” Andrea nodded absently.

  Lisa walked over to join them, but she stopped short as she noticed their serious expressions. “What’s wrong?”

  “Mike thinks Norman’s a suspect,” Hannah told her.

  “Norman Rhodes?”

  “That’s right,” Andrea confirmed it. “Did you happen to see him last night between ten and midnight?”

  “Not me,” Lisa replied, sitting down next to them, “but I’ll ask Herb. He bowled last night and then he came over for night lunch.”

  “What’s night lunch?” Andrea asked her.

  “That’s what Herb’s mother calls the little snack you have before bedtime so you won’t get hungry in the middle of the night. She told me to try it with Dad and it’s working just great. He never wakes up and wanders around in the dark anymore.”

  Hannah tried to keep her mouth shut, but she just had to ask. “How is Marge getting along with your dad?”

  “They’re just great together,” Lisa said with a smile. “Marge is always offering to come and sit with him when Herb and I want to go out. They used to date in high school, you know. Now that Mom’s dead and Herb’s father is gone, I keep thinking that Marge and Dad might have gotten together again, if only…you know.”

  Hannah understood what Lisa wasn’t saying, and she reached out to give her arm a sympathetic pat. Marge Beeseman had never been credited with being a martyr, and it was unlikely that she’d choose to marry a man who’d been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. “A lot of times life isn’t fair.”

  “I’d better let you two get to work,” Andrea said, rising to her feet. “I’m going up to talk to Francine and I’ll take Tracey along. She adores babies, and she hasn’t seen little Danny yet. I’ll check in with you right afterwards, Hannah.”

  Lisa waited until Andrea had left, and then she turned to Hannah. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of your sister, but Tracey might have gotten us into trouble.”

  “What happened?”

  “We ran into Edna Ferguson when I dropped Dad off at the seniors’ center,
and she was in a panic about what to serve for dessert at the banquet.”

  Hannah groaned, guessing the rest. It wasn’t the first time her precocious niece had volunteered her services. “Did Tracey promise Edna that we’d bake the Winter Carnival cake?”

  “I’m afraid she did. She told Edna that her Aunt Hannah could do anything.”

  Hannah laughed. “I guess I should be flattered, but there’s no way we can replace Connie Mac’s cake. We could bake it, no problem, but cake decoration isn’t my long suit.”

  “Mine, either. I can decorate cookies, but doing a cake is a huge project. Do you want me to call Edna and tell her that we can’t do it?”

  Hannah shook her head. “We’ll just give her buckets of Little Snowballs for dessert.”

  “Snowballs?” Lisa looked shocked. “You’re joking, aren’t you?”

  “I’m perfectly serious. The snowballs I’m talking about are cookies that my Grandma Ingrid used to bake. We’ll present them in the crystal ice buckets Sally uses to chill champagne, and they’ll fit right in with the Winter Carnival theme.”

  “They sound just perfect.” Lisa glanced over at the swinging door as it opened. “Here comes Alex. Sally introduced us when I came in through the dining room.”

  Alex spotted them sitting at the counter and hurried over. “Sally said to tell you that you could use anything in the pantry, and she sent me in to help you bake.”

  “That’s great,” Hannah told her. “We can use all the help we can get. Just let me check my recipe file and I’ll give you a list of what we need.”

  While Lisa and Alex retrieved the bowls of cookie dough from the cooler, Hannah found her grandmother’s recipe and made a list of the ingredients. When she was through, she handed it to Alex. “Could you gather these up for us? We’ll bake the cookies for the Winter Carnival first, and then we’ll start in on the Little Snowballs.”

  “Go do what you have to do, Hannah,” Lisa said after Alex had left them. “I’ll handle the baking with Alex.”

  “Are you sure?” Hannah felt a little guilty. Every time she got involved in an investigation, Lisa ended up doing all the baking.