Authors: Joanne Fluke,Leslie Meier,Laura Levine
Tags: #Mystery & Detective, #Fiction
“But he always comes over to greet me.” Michelle looked worried. “Is he sick?”
Hannah shook her head. “It’s just a food coma. I had to feed him a whole can of salmon to keep him distracted while Norman wrapped the Christmas presents.”
“Well, you’d better not put them under the tree!” Michelle gave a little laugh. “I talked to Andrea and she said you’ve already had a couple
cat
-astrophies this year.”
“That’s true. We’re just hoping the tree’s secure enough to last until Christmas Eve.”
“Oh, that reminds me,” Michelle said, taking another Nancy Dunn. “Are you doing Christmas Eve dinner this year?”
“Of course. I
always
do Christmas Eve dinner.”
“And you’re doing it here?”
“I
always
do it here.”
“Oh, good. Do you think I can invite someone from the college for dessert? They’re doing a dinner out there, but you always have something really fantastic for dessert.”
“Of course. Invite anyone you like. Just make sure to tell me how many friends you’re bringing. We’ll start at six with appetizers and I’ll serve the Minnesota Plum Pudding at eight.”
“Thanks, Hannah. That’ll be perfect. Mother already told me about your plum pudding and she said it was incredible.” Michelle glanced at her watch and sighed. “It’s only nine-thirty, but I’m beat and I’d better get to bed. We went through the whole show three times today and tomorrow morning’s dress rehearsal.”
“Good night, Michelle,” Norman called out as she turned to go.
“’Night, Norman. ’Night, Hannah.” Michelle hesitated and then she walked back to the coffee table and took another cookie bar. “I have to keep up my strength,” she said, heading off to the guest room with a grin on her face.
NANCY DUNN BAR COOKIES
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.,
rack in the middle position.
8-ounce package pitted dates, coarsely chopped
1 and ½ cups orange juice
(I used Minute Maid)
2 and ½ cups all-purpose flour
(pack it down when you measure it)
1 and ½ cups firmly packed brown sugar
½ teaspoon salt
1 and ½ cups softened butter
(3 sticks, 12 ounces, ¾ pound)
2 cups Quaker Oats
(quick or old fashioned, uncooked)
1 cup shredded coconut
(for the batter)
1 cup chopped nuts
(walnuts or pecans)
½ cup shredded coconut
(for a topping)
In a medium size saucepan combine the dates and the orange juice. Do not cover. Bring the mixture to a boil.
Reduce the heat to simmer and cook for 15 to 20 minutes, or until thickened, stirring occasionally.
Move the saucepan to a cold burner and let it cool.
In a large bowl, combine the flour, sugar, and salt. Mix it thoroughly.
Cut in the softened butter with a pastry blender, or two knives until the resulting mixture is crumbly.
(You can also do this with a food processor and cold butter cut into pieces. Use the steel blade in an on and off motion until the mixture is crumbly.)
Stir in the oats, coconut, and nuts. Mix thoroughly.
Spray a 9-inch by 13-inch cake pan with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray.
Measure out 4 cups of the oat mixture and set it on the counter to use for a topping. Press the remainder of the oat mixture in the bottom of your baking pan.
Spread the date mixture evenly over the crust to within a quarter-inch of the edges.
Sprinkle the date mixture with the remaining oat mixture.
Sprinkle the remaining half-cup coconut on the top and pat it down gently.
Bake at 350 degrees F. for 35 to 40 minutes, or until light golden brown on top. Cool completely in the pan on a wire rack.
When completely cool, cut into bars. Store them in a tightly covered container.
Yield: Makes 36 rich, delicious bars.
“I
’d better be going, Hannah.” Norman stood up and carried his coffee mug into the kitchen. “It’s almost ten and you need your sleep.”
“That’s true. What time shall we go out to the college? I know Miss Whiting has an eight o’clock class.”
“I’ll pick you up at The Cookie Jar at eight-thirty and we’ll catch her after her class. I’ve got the morning clear tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Norman.” Hannah was about to get up to walk him to the door when someone knocked.
“I’ll get it,” Norman told her, heading to the door. “Who is it?”
“It’s Hannah’s mother,” Delores called out so loudly that Hannah could hear her right through the closed door. “Let me in, Norman. It’s cold out here.”
Norman wasted no time ushering Delores into Hannah’s living room and Hannah got up to take her mother’s coat. “How about a cup of coffee?” she asked.
“Only if it’s made, dear. I don’t want to put you to any trouble.”
“It’s made. And I wouldn’t mind making it if it weren’t.” Hannah hurried to the kitchen to pour coffee and came back out with several more bars to slip onto the plate Michelle and Norman had come close to devouring. “Have a date bar with your coffee, Mother.”
“Well…perhaps one. Nancy made dinner for us and it was lovely. She said she didn’t feel like going out.”
“How about the alibi?” Hannah asked, hoping her mother had been successful in finding a way to prove that Dr. Love was nowhere near the Crazy Elf Christmas Tree lot when Larry was murdered.
“I struck out, dear. No phone calls made or received, no one walking by on the sidewalk, no noises that she could remember, nothing to place her at home when Larry Jaeger was killed.”
“Okay. It was a long shot and I know you gave it your best try. We’ll just have to prove that someone else shot Larry,” Hannah said, trying to look confident for her mother’s sake. “How about Earl? Did you have more luck with him?”
“Actually…” Delores frowned deeply and shook her head. “No. I didn’t have any luck at all. He said his uncle and aunt didn’t have children and he had no cousins in the area. I asked him about investing with Larry and whether you might have seen him out at the Crazy Elf Christmas Tree Lot and he never gave me a straight answer. And then, when I asked him where he was between nine and nine forty-five on the night Larry was killed, he said,
Somewhere. I dunno
. I thought I was asking the right questions, but Earl was terribly evasive.” Delores stopped speaking and gave a deep sigh. “Maybe I’m not very good at this after all.”
Norman reached out to squeeze Delores’s hand. “You’re
very
good at this. Don’t think you aren’t, not for a second. You’re forgetting that you discovered a very important clue when you went undercover in that Karaoke bar.”
“Well…yes. But that was then and this is now. This time I didn’t get anything at all.”
“Nonsense,” Norman said, and Hannah could have kissed him for being so nice to her mother. Actually, she could have kissed him just for being Norman.
“It’s possible you were given an important clue, and you just haven’t realized it yet,” Norman went on reassuring Delores. “Tell us all about your afternoon.”
“Well…I hope you’re right,” Delores said, brightening considerably. “The first thing I did was go to the mall to get…”
When her mother stopped speaking, Hannah knew what caution had just crossed her mind. “Go ahead, Mother. She’s in the guest room sleeping.”
“I went out to the mall to get a new pair of boots for Michelle,” Delores said in a much lower voice. “I found just the thing at The Glass Slipper and I brought them up here to show you.”
Delores opened the bag she’d brought in with her. She pulled out a boot-size box and lifted the lid. “Aren’t they just perfect for Michelle?” she asked.
“Perfect,” Hannah agreed, exchanging glances with Norman. The boots were fawn-colored suede with lovely beadwork butterflies on the sides.
“They were terribly expensive, but I just knew Michelle would wear them and love them.” Delores turned to Hannah. “I’m right, aren’t I, dear?”
“Absolutely. Michelle’s going to adore them.”
“Are they suede?” Norman asked, pulling Hannah back to the more important issue.
“That’s right.”
“They have beautiful beadwork,” Hannah commented. “Did they happen to have any men’s boots?”
“No. The owner told me there was a pair and someone came in and bought them. They were only for display, but the owner sold them because it was too late to special order any more before Christmas. It was the same with Michelle’s boots. I’m just lucky they were her size.”
“That’s interesting.” Hannah exchanged another glance with Norman. “Did you happen to ask who bought the man’s pair?”
“Yes, but the owner didn’t know his name. All he could remember was that he was from Lake Eden. I was curious because the boots were so expensive. I couldn’t help but wonder which local man paid that much for dress boots.”
“Yes, we’re wondering that, too,” Norman said.
Delores turned to give him a sharp look. “Is there a special reason you’re wondering?”
There was another meaningful look between Hannah and Norman. Norman gave her a nod, giving his consent to tell Delores about Carrie and the man with the suede boots.
“It’s the man I told you about this morning, Mother.” Hannah turned to her mother.
“The one in the private booth with Carrie?”
“Yes. He had suede boots similar to the ones you bought for Michelle. And from what you just told us, he must have bought them at The Glass Slipper.”
“Do you think I should go back to The Glass Slipper and have a little talk with the salespeople to see if I can find out more about the man who bought them? I wouldn’t mind a pair of new boots for myself.”
“That’s a great idea,” Hannah said, handing her mother the package of cookie bars she’d wrapped for her to take home.
“Thanks for the information, Delores.” Norman stood up and grabbed Delores’s coat. “It’s a big relief to know that the man Mother is dating is local.”
Delores shrugged into the coat that Norman was holding for her. “Goodbye, dear,” she said to Hannah. “Goodbye, Norman.”
“I’ll see you to your car,” Norman told her, grabbing his jacket and putting it on. “I’m leaving now anyway. Hannah needs her sleep.”
Hannah waved and as the door closed behind them, she gave a relieved sigh. She was tired and she wanted to go to bed. Her alarm clock was set for four in the morning and it was already past ten-thirty. If she wanted to get more than five hours of sleep, she had to turn in right now.
It only took a moment to put the coffee mugs and dessert plate in the dishwasher and make sure the cake pans with bars inside were tightly covered with cat-proof lids. Hannah switched off the bright kitchen light and was about to pick up her lethargic feline to carry him into the bedroom when there was a knock at her door.
Hannah knew there were only two possibilities for callers who’d knock on her door this late. It was either Mike or a home invasion robbery. Hannah was betting on the former when she crossed to the door and opened it.
Mike looked surprised. “Don’t you ever ask who’s there?”
“Why should I do that? I knew it was you.”
“How did you know that? You didn’t even stop to look through the peephole.”
“The peephole doesn’t work. The security light’s too bright and all I can see is a dark shape in front of it.”
Mike gave an exasperated sigh. “Are you going to invite me in? Or are we going to stand here and argue all night?”
Hannah had the urge to shut the door. She was tired and she wanted to go to bed. But then Mike smiled and her irritation vanished in a wave of longing for a bit of private time with Winnetka County Sheriff’s Department chief detective. There was also the fact that Mike was investigating the same crime that she was, and she might be able to pry some official information from him.
“Come in, Mike. It’s good to see you,” Hannah put on the cheeriest voice she could muster. “I’ll put on the coffee if you’d like some.”
“That would be good. I’ve been out in the field all day.”
Food. He wanted food. Hannah felt like groaning, but she managed to keep the pleasant expression on her face. “You didn’t eat dinner?”
“Yeah, I ate. I stopped for a patty melt and fries at the café before they closed. I didn’t have dessert, though. All Rose had left was a piece of raisin pie.”
There was a pregnant silence. Hannah let it go on for several seconds. “I’ll see what I can do,” she said, waving him over to the couch. A half-dozen Nancy Dunn Cookie Bars ought to elicit some information from the man who didn’t like raisin pie.
It didn’t take long to brew the coffee. Hannah sneaked out a cup before the whole pot had brewed, and emerged from the kitchen with a steaming mug and a plate of cookie bars. “Here you go,” she said, setting them down on the coffee table in front of her erstwhile boyfriend.
“These look good,” Mike said, and took one. He took a bite, smiled, and said, “They
are
good. What are they?”
“Date and oatmeal bar cookies.” Hannah figured it was time to ask him some questions before she fell asleep. “Do you have any suspects yet?”
“Only one.”
“And that would be…?” Hannah waited, but no answer was forthcoming.
“When you and Norman entered the trailer, how far did you go?”
“Not far. I told you before, I just had a funny feeling something wasn’t right.”
“A premonition? Were there any subliminal clues that warned you that something was wrong inside?”
Hannah just stared at him for a minute and then she laughed. “If they were subliminal, I wouldn’t have consciously registered them.”
“Sorry. You’re right. Let me rephrase that. Were there any clues that warned you that something was wrong inside the trailer?”
“I don’t think so, at least none that I remember. It was probably just that Larry said he’d be there, but he didn’t answer the door.”
“Okay,” Mike took a sip of his coffee. “Back to the important stuff. Did you, at any time, approach the flat screen television set?”
“No. I saw the bullet holes though. At first I thought maybe Larry got mad and threw something at the screen. And then I realized that they were probably bullet holes.” Hannah stopped speaking and stared at him. “Why do you want to know if I was close to Larry’s television set?”
“Because there was a bloody footprint and the crime lab just got back to us this afternoon. The blood was Larry’s and they’re ninety-nine percent positive the footprint was made by a woman. I just stopped by to eliminate your prints. What boots were you wearing that night?”
“The only ones I have, my moose-hide boots.”
“Could I see them please?”
Hannah got up to get them, but then she turned back to Mike. “You’re not going to take them, are you? I’m going to need them in the morning.”
“All I need is the left one. And I may not have to take it.”
“Thanks,” Hannah said a trifle sarcastically, already envisioning a one-footed hop down the stairs in the early morning to her cookie truck.
Her boots were on the rug by the side of the door. Hannah picked up the left one and carried it over to Mike. “Here,” she said.
Mike turned the boot over, took one look, and handed it back. “Okay,” he said. “The print’s not yours.”
“You can tell if there’s blood on the sole of my boot by just looking?” Hannah was amazed at his investigative skills.
“No. Your boot is a lot bigger than the boot that made the print. What size is it anyway?”
“Six,” Hannah said, cheating by several integers. She was lying to the authorities, but she felt justified since her boot had already been eliminated. “How about Courtney? What size boot does she wear?”
“Five, but it has a different type of heel. Mr. Jaeger’s fiancée left the park early and drove out to the Inn. A couple of the employees told me that she had an altercation with Mr. Jaeger before she left, but Sally said she was sitting in the kitchen talking to her from nine-twenty until almost ten.”
“Are there any other women suspects?” Hannah asked, knowing that there was at least one more. If Dr. Love was lucky, Mike hadn’t found out about her marriage to Larry yet and Hannah could clear her before he did.
“There were several women involved in Mr. Jaeger’s case. We found three local females who were having…uh…” Mike stopped and looked slightly embarrassed.
“Play dates?” Hannah suggested.
“That’s good. I like that! These three local women were having play dates with Mr. Jaeger, but they all have alibis for the time of the murder.”
“So that’s it for the women suspects?” Hannah asked, wondering if she dared cross her fingers.
“No, there’s one more. Thanks to your tip about Mr. Jaeger’s business practices, we did an extensive search of his financial records. That’s when we discovered that one woman suspect had a very compelling motive. Now all we have to do is gather more evidence and then we can make an arrest.”
Hannah felt her spirits take a nosedive. She thought she knew, but she had to ask. “Who’s your suspect?”
“Mr. Jaeger’s wife. She stands to gain the most from his death. I just came from interviewing her and I like her.”
Hannah knew that Mike’s
like
was not the same as her
like
. When Mike said
like
, it referred to the person he’d like to arrest for Larry Jaeger’s murder. But what if Larry’s current wife wasn’t Dr. Love? What if he’d filed for a quickie divorce in another state and married someone else?
“She has no alibi for the time of the murder, and over two million in various banks in the tri-state area is one heck of a motive. When her boots come back from the crime lab we’ll know for sure.”
Hannah swallowed hard and asked the question. “Who is it?”
“You probably know her as Dr. Love. She’s a psychology professor at the community college and she has this cock-and-bull story about how she hasn’t talked to her husband in fifteen years.”