Blackberry Pie Murder (33 page)

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Twenty-three
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Someone was shining a light in her eyes and she could hear trucks in the distance. Were the police interrogating her right next to a freeway? Hannah sat bolt upright in bed and blinked in the strong sunlight coming through her bedroom window. It was daylight and it wasn’t Sunday. At least she didn’t think it was Sunday. And if it wasn’t Sunday, she’d overslept and she was late for work.

The trucks were still rumbling outside. They must be doing some construction work in the condo complex. That was very odd. She was on the homeowners’ association board and she hadn’t heard about any repairs or new construction.

The heavy equipment, whatever it was, must have frightened Moishe, because he was nowhere in sight. No Moishe on her pillow, no Moishe at the foot of the bed. No Moishe tunneled under the blankets and no Moishe on top of the dresser, staring at her with yellow eyes. But Moishe was blind in one eye. Doctor Hagaman had told her that. So how could he stare at her with yellow eyes if he could only see with one eye? But it would sound silly to say that Moishe was staring at her with his yellow eye when both of his eyes were yellow.

And she’d never have known that he was blind in one eye if Doctor Hagaman hadn’t told her. What should she say? Or should she say nothing since Moishe wasn’t on top of the dresser and he wasn’t staring at her, anyway?

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It was too complicated a conundrum for this time of the morning, whatever time it was. Hannah managed to turn the body that suddenly seemed unwieldy to her, so that she could look at her digital alarm clock. “Ten-fifteen?!” she exclaimed so loudly that the sound bounced off her bedroom walls. The slits that had been her eyes opened all the way at her own loud exclamation, and that’s when she saw the note propped up on her bedside table.

Coffee in thermos on kitchen table
, it read.
Blue Apple
Muffins in basket. Take your time. Lisa and I have it covered. She picked me up this morning.

Hannah rubbed her eyes and reached for her slippers.

Thank goodness for that truck! She might have slept until noon if the noise hadn’t awakened her. But something strange was happening to the hum of the truck motor. It didn’t appear to be coming from the outside, the way she’d initially thought. Now it seemed to be coming from the corner of her own bedroom!

Her head swiveled toward the sound and her eyes opened wide in surprise. Her exercise machine was on! The belt on the treadmill was running in an endless loop, and there was Moishe, walking on the exercise machine!

“Moishe!” Hannah could scarcely believe her eyes. “How did you ever manage to . . . ?” but she didn’t finish her question as a logical explanation of this strange phenomenon suddenly occurred to her. Michelle must have come in to ride the treadmill this morning while Hannah was sound asleep. And when she was through, Michelle had forgotten to shut off the exercise machine.

The lure of hot coffee and Blue Apple Muffins, whatever they turned out to be, was too strong to deny. Hannah thrust her feet into her slippers, got up out of bed, and shut off the machine. “Come on, fitness fanatic,” she said to Moishe.

“It’s time for both of us to have breakfast and then I have to get to work.”

* * *

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Hannah mixed up yet another batch of cookies and tried not to listen to Lisa’s new story. Michelle must have told her Hannah’s account of their encounter with Starlet because Lisa was telling the story to a packed house. It was great for business, Hannah would be the first to admit that, but it was also a bit embarrassing. Thank goodness Delores was busy at the hospital and hadn’t popped in to have coffee with her!

“I just knew he was a pimp!” It was Grandma Knudson.

Hannah recognized her voice. “Just wait until I tell my friend Nola that I was right! I’ll make her eat fricasseed crow!”

There was a roar of laughter from the crowd and even Hannah had to smile as she measured out the cocoa for another batch of Triple Chocolate Cookies.

She’d just added the melted chocolate and butter to her dough when the phone rang and she hurried to answer it.

“This is The Cookie Jar, Hannah speaking,” she greeted the caller.

“I’m glad I caught you, Hannah.”

It was Winnie Henderson’s voice and Hannah knew it wouldn’t be a long conversation. Winnie was always blunt and she didn’t waste time on chatter. “Hi, Winnie,” she said.

“Do you have another grandson’s birthday?”

“Nope. It came to me last night, Hannah.”

“What’s that, Winnie?”

“Where I’d seen that man in the picture before. Turns out I saw him right here on the ranch. He worked for me.”

“He did?”

“You bet your boots, he did. I never forget a face. Nowadays it takes me longer to remember, but I never forget.”

“I wish I could say that,” Hannah told her. “When did the man work for you?”

“It’s got to be ten or more years ago. He didn’t last long.

Less than two weeks the way I remember it. I had to fire him.”

“Do you remember why?”

“I sure do. He was lazy and shiftless. Jimmy, the other ranch hand I hired that summer, couldn’t stand him. Said the 278

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new guy was trouble with a capital T. His name was Keith-something-or-other. I don’t remember his last name off-hand.”

“Keith Branson?”

“That’s right! Just like Branson, Missouri, where they put on all those shows. I went there once with one of my husbands. I don’t recall which one. Anyway, I thought you’d want to know that I remembered about Keith.”

“Thanks, Winnie. I’m glad you remembered.”

“So am I. It was bothering me more than a sore tooth. I hate it when I can’t remember something.”

“So do I. How’s Connor’s hand?”

“It’s in a cast and he’s madder than a wet hen that he can’t ride for a couple of weeks. That man lives for horses. Turns out his hand is broken. I told him that when I first saw it, but he didn’t believe me. You know how men are. They just hate to admit that you’re right and they’re wrong. It must be in the genes.”

“You’re probably right.”

“I tell you, Hannah, it takes a bulldozer to push that man into going to the doctor. I finally got fed up and told him I’d fire him if he wouldn’t go.”

Hannah was curious. “Would you really have fired him?”

“I don’t know. And I’ll never know because he went. Diablo really did a number on him, Hannah. Connor blames the storm that came up that morning. He thinks the lightning spooked him, but I think Diablo is just plain crazy. ”

“That’s too bad about Connor’s hand.”

“No, it’s not. I got him doing left-handed things around the house. He’s painting the living room right now and complaining like crazy about having to use the roller in his left hand. You should hear him. He keeps muttering about not being able to wear his ring and that silly copper bracelet he swears is good for his arthritis.” There was a pause and then Winnie spoke again. “Say, Hannah? I just thought of something. How did you know that boy’s last name was Branson?”

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“Mike checked with a friend of his at the Minneapolis Police Department, and some members of the vice squad recognized him. Keith Branson was a pimp in the Cities.”

Winnie laughed. “So Grandma Knudson was right! I bet that tickled her pink. But I guess it figures, now that I think about it. He was a real good-looking boy and he was trouble from the git-go. He used to sneak off to the swimming hole every afternoon to hang around with the local kids. Now that I know how he turned out, it makes me wonder if he was selling them dope or something like that.”

Hannah had just finished slipping the pans of Triple Chocolate Cookies onto her revolving racks in her industrial oven when there was a knock at the back door. She listened for sounds from the coffee shop before she went to answer it, but there was only the buzz of conversation. Lisa had finished telling her story for this hour. If Delores was at the door, Hannah would keep her in the kitchen and warn Lisa not to start anther performance until she’d left.

“Loretta?” Hannah was clearly surprised when she opened the door and saw Loretta Richardson standing there. Loretta would have been the inspiration for the old song, “Silver Threads Among the Gold.” She was a pretty woman in her middle fifties and her blond hair had begun to gray. Loretta had chosen not to color it because, as she’d told Carly and Michelle, Loretta’s mother had possessed the most gorgeous head of silver-white hair she’d ever seen and Loretta was waiting to see if she had inherited the same lucky genes from her mother.

“Hi, Loretta,” Hannah said, greeting her warmly. “Are you on break?”

“I am and I wanted to talk to you. Do you have a few minutes you can spare for me?”

“I’ve got all afternoon as long as you stay in the kitchen with me. All I’m doing today is baking.”

“Smells good in here,” Loretta said, stepping into the 280

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kitchen and taking the stool at the workstation that Hannah indicated.

“It’s my second batch of Triple Chocolate Cookies. Would you like a couple from the first batch? They’re cool by now.”

“Thanks, Hannah. I’d love to taste them.”

“Coffee with cream and one sugar, right?”

Loretta was clearly impressed that Hannah had remembered her preferences. “Do you remember how everyone who comes into the coffee shop takes their coffee?”

“No. Sometimes I goof. And that’s why I always check.”

Hannah poured coffee from the kitchen pot, added cream and one sugar, and carried it over to Loretta. Then she took two cookies from the bakers rack, placed them on a napkin, and delivered those as well. “What’s up, Loretta?” she asked.

“It’s Carly. We had a talk last night and she told me that she confided her fears about Jennifer to you and Michelle.”

“That’s true. She did.”

“She really doesn’t think that Jennifer is her sister and I don’t know what to do about that.”

Hannah was silent, waiting for Loretta to go on. There were times to talk and times to listen, and this was a time to listen.

“She gave me her reasons and they do make some kind of sense, even to me, but it’s simply not true, Hannah.”

“What were her reasons?” Hannah asked, even though she already knew some of them.

“She was upset that Jennifer didn’t remember the birthday present she’d given her before she’d left.” Loretta shook her head. “I can see where that would be very disappointing to Carly, but even I didn’t remember what Carly had given Jennifer that year. And Carly thought that Jennifer wasn’t Jennifer because she liked to take baths when she was young and now she’d rather take a shower. They’re all things like that, Hannah.”

“I know. Carly told me. Michelle and I asked her if she BLACKBERRY PIE MURDER

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could be jealous because Jennifer was back and you were so happy about it.”

“What did she say?”

“She said she didn’t think so, that she really liked Jennifer.

It’s just that she doesn’t think Jennifer is her sister.”

“But I
know
Jennifer is Carly’s sister. I’m Jennifer’s mother and she was my first baby. I didn’t work back then and I was with her all day and all night. Jennifer is back even if Carly doesn’t believe it, or doesn’t want to believe it. I’d know my daughter anywhere!”

“And you don’t think it could possibly be wishful thinking on your part?”

“No. The minute I set eyes on her again, I knew. Oh, she looks different now. A lot of years have passed, but I knew right away. You have no idea what a shock it was when she called and said she was coming home. I was so happy, I rushed right out to the store and I managed to find the fabric that I’d used for her old bedspread. I stayed up for hours making her a new one that was just like the old one for her room.”

“And did Jennifer say anything about the bedspread when she saw it?”

“Oh, yes. It was one of the happiest moments of my life.

She said,
Mom! My room is just the same as it was when I
left!
And then she went to the closet, pulled open the door, and started talking about the clothes she remembered from school.”

“And you never had any doubts?”

Loretta dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “Never. I know my own daughter. It’s Jennifer and she’s back with us again.”

“Did you tell Carly all that?”

“I did, but I don’t think it did any good. She told me she likes Jennifer. It’s not that. And she doesn’t think Jennifer is trying to cheat us or hurt us in any way. She just doesn’t believe that Jennifer is her sister and I can’t think of any way to convince her.”

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“How about a DNA test?” Hannah suggested.

“Maybe. It would settle the question once and for all. But I worry about hurting Jennifer’s feelings by asking her to agree to the test.”

“You wouldn’t necessarily have to ask her to agree.”

“I know. I realize that all you need is hair from a hairbrush, or saliva on something, but I really don’t want to do something like that behind Jennifer’s back. It’s just not . . .

honest.”

Hannah thought about the problem for a moment and then she sighed deeply. “You’re really in a jam, Loretta. I don’t see any way out of it. You can’t please both Carly and Jennifer.”

“I know that. And I also know that I can’t let this go on for too long without a resolution. It’s a bad situation, Hannah, and it’s getting worse with each passing day. The tension is growing and I don’t know how long I can stand it. When Carly told me about it last night, I didn’t sleep a wink. I love both of my daughters, and I just don’t know what to do.”

Loretta looked so depressed that Hannah’s heart went out to her. “Let me think about it for a day or two,” she said, even though she didn’t think it would do any good. “Maybe I can come up with something.”

After that, they sat and talked for a few minutes, and then Loretta got up to go back to work. And at that exact instant, Hannah had an idea. She believed everything Carly had told her. And she believed what Loretta had confided today. When you believed two people with conflicting views about a third person, perhaps you should meet that third person to sound her out for yourself. When you did that, you could make up your own mind about what you thought was the real truth of the situation.