Key Lime Pie Murder (19 page)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F., rack in the middle position.

2 cups melted butter (4 sticks, 1 pound)

1/4 cup instant coffee powder (I used Folgers)

2 teaspoons vanilla

2 teaspoons brandy or rum extract

3 cups white (granulated) sugar*

3 beaten eggs (just whip them up in a glass with a fork)

2 teaspoons baking soda

1 teaspoon baking powder

3 cups milk chocolate chips

5 1/2 cups flour (don’t sift—pack it down in the measuring cup)

*
If you prefer a sweeter cookie, roll the dough balls in extra granulated sugar and flatten before baking.

Melt the butter in large microwave-safe bowl at 3 minutes on HIGH. Or melt it in a saucepan over low heat on the stovetop.

Mix in the instant coffee powder, vanilla and rum or brandy extract. Stir it until the coffee powder has dissolved.

Add the sugar, beaten eggs, baking soda, and baking powder. Mix well.

Stir in the milk chocolate chips. Mix until they’re evenly distributed.

Add the flour in one cup increments, stirring after each addition. Mix until the flour is thoroughly incorporated.

Form walnut-sized dough balls with your fingers. Roll them in a small bowl with granulated sugar if you decided you wanted them sweeter.

Place the dough balls on greased cookie sheets, 12 to a standard-size sheet. (I used Pam to grease my cookie sheet, but any nonstick cooking spray will do.)

Flatten the dough balls with the back of a metal spatula, or with the palm of your impeccably clean hand.

Bake the cookies at 350 degrees F. for 9 to 11 minutes. Let them cool on the cookie sheets for 2 minutes, and then transfer the cookies to a wire rack to complete cooling.

Yield: 12 to 14 dozen cookies (depending on cookie size.)

Hannah’s Note: These cookies freeze well if you have any left over.

“What are you doing here, Mother?” Hannah asked, staring at Delores in shock.

“Did I ever fail to attend one of your school programs?”

“No, but this is…”

“I even showed up for the Chorale Club concert when you were in sixth grade,” Delores interrupted her, “and I knew the music teacher had asked you to just pretend to sing.”

“That was really good of you, Mother. But this isn’t quite the same as…”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have if Marge hadn’t called me, but she was so excited about Herb’s debut. And then I heard about you, so of course I had to come. I knew you’d see the light eventually, dear. Dithering between two perfectly acceptable men just isn’t the smart thing to…”

“Mother!” This time Hannah got her interruption in first. “The audience is due here any minute, and I don’t think we should be discussing something this personal in pub…”

“You’re right, of course,” Delores broke in. “I’m just so terribly grateful to hear you’ve finally come to your senses. Now you’ll see for yourself that I’m right.”

For one confusing moment, it was almost as if her mother were speaking in a foreign tongue. Hannah had felt like that only once before, when she’d tried to understand college trigonometry without first completing courses in geometry and algebra. It was a mind freeze, and all reason came to a screeching halt. The words her mother spoke were perfectly good words, and each one had at least one perfectly good definition. Together they formed perfectly sensible sentences, but the meaning of those sentences remained as elusive as the identity of Willa’s killer.

“Mother? I really don’t have the foggiest notion what…”

“Hush, dear. Bertie’s about to come in the door, and you know what a big gossip she is. Did he tell you what you’ll be having?”

“Having?” Hannah repeated dumbly, as if she’d never heard that particular verb before.

“For dinner, dear.”

The entrance of the noun caused the light to dawn, and the glow it shed was clear, unsullied, even brilliant. Hannah hadn’t lost her wits, and her mother wasn’t speaking in code. Delores was talking about the dinner she’d agreed to have with Norman in the den of his new house tonight.

“Lamb,” Hannah said, feeling in control once again. “He’s picking up takeout lamb dinners from Sally at the Inn.”

“Do you think you’ve got it?” Herb asked, looking every bit as nervous as the day he’d had to recite the witches’ speech from MacBeth in English class.

“I think so. Double, double, toil, and trouble. You knocked ’em dead then, you’ll knock ’em dead now.”

Herb’s mouth dropped open to match the little round silver moons on his purple velvet cape. “What are you talking about?” he asked, and then, a heartbeat later, he began to laugh. “I get it! High school English, Mr. Merek.”

“Exactly right. No way you can be that nervous again. And you got the highest mark in the class.”

“That’s true.” Herb looked very relieved. “Let’s go over it one more time, just to be sure. What do you do when we walk on stage?”

“I just stand there, a little behind you. And you give your speech about magic.”

“Good. And when I’m through, I command you to get in the magic cabinet.”

“Command?” Hannah asked, bristling slightly.

“Sorry, wrong word. I don’t command anything. I suggest that you get in the magic cabinet. And you do.”

“And then I get into position while you say a few things about how dangerous this is, and how you really hope they’ll be able to clean the bloodstains off the floor of the coffee shop, and how I’m the third assistant you’ve had this year.”

“Right. All that is to build up the suspense.”

“And then you ask me if I’m ready, and I call out that I am.”

“Right again. That’s the cue that tells me you’re in position and I can start sticking in the swords.”

“How many swords?”

“Twelve. I’ll have the audience count when I stick them into the cabinet, and you’ll be able to hear them.”

“And then you’ll pull them out again?”

“Yes. With difficulty. I’ll pretend that one is stuck. They always gasp when they think about why it might be stuck.”

“Wonderful. And then you open the cabinet door?”

“Not quite. I give another little speech so you have time to get both feet down and you’re ready to move. That speech ends with the words, If you’re still with us, Miss Swensen, give me a sign.”

“Right. And I knock three times on the inside of the cabinet door.”

“Exactly. And then I open the cabinet.”

“And I step out, smiling and unscathed.”

“I think you’ll be perfect, Hannah. You’ve got it all down.” Herb glanced at the old-fashioned pocket watch attached by a jeweled fob to his cape. “It’s almost show time. Are you ready?”

“Absolutely.” Hannah waited until they were ready to step out of swinging door and enter the coffee shop before she said what she’d been thinking about all morning. “Don’t worry, Herb. I’ll be perfectly fine as long as you remember to use the collapsible swords.”

Hannah pulled up in front of the one-story brick sheriff’s station at precisely three o’clock. The magic show with Herb had gone perfectly, except for the slight bobble when her left ankle had almost gotten caught in the strap. She’d discovered that it did take some degree of agility to get into the position required to keep from being skewered by the blades, but some of the swords in critical places were indeed collapsible and would only go in as far as her stomach if she sucked it in.

Anything for my partner, Hannah repeated, her mantra for the next twenty-four hours. She’d promised to find an appropriate costume and meet Herb in the parking lot at the fairgrounds a half-hour early so that they could go over things one more time before the competition.

Once she’d pulled her cookie truck into one of the visitor parking spots at the front of the building, Hannah retrieved the cookie box from the back of her truck and walked to the front door. Someone had been busy decorating the walkway with summer flowers, and Hannah admired the perennials that lined both sides of the sidewalk all the way down to the employee parking lot. She was no flower expert, but they looked like nasturtiums to her. In any event, the orange, red, and yellow flowers were cheery and took some of the onus away from walking down this sidewalk to talk about a crime.

Hannah stepped inside the first glass door, waited until it had closed behind her, and waved at the desk sergeant as she opened the second door. Most people didn’t know it, but Bill had told her that the desk sergeant had a button to press that would lock the visitor midway between the two doors. It was a security precaution that had never been used, but if it was ever needed, it could be.

She stepped up to the desk and greeted the sergeant on duty, Rick Murphy. He was Lonnie’s older brother and he was also a detective. “Hi, Rick. What are you doing on the desk?”

“Disability for two more weeks,” Rick said, stretching out his leg and showing Hannah his cast. “I slid into home and got creamed.”

“I remember.” Hannah gave a little grin. The Cookie Jar fielded the only all-female softball team on the Lake Eden city schedule, and her catcher, Rose McDermott, had been as unmovable as a chunk of granite when she’d tagged Rick out.

“You want Mike?” Rick asked, grinning in a way that made Hannah bristle slightly.

Guys will be guys, she reminded herself, and did her best to curb the impulse to take him down a peg or two. “That’s right,” she said, smiling sweetly. “I’m delivering cookies for the detectives’ meeting. I guess you won’t be there, right?”

Rick looked disgruntled as he shook his head. It was clear he didn’t like being chained to the desk, and Hannah took pity on him. She slipped several cookies out of the bakery box and placed them on his desk blotter. “Here you go. They’ll never miss them.”

“Thanks, Hannah.” Now Rick was all smiles. “I think Mike’s in his office. You know where it is, don’t you?”

“Sure. Right next to Bill’s,” Hannah said, reminding Rick ever so nicely that she was the sister-in-law of his boss, the Winnetka County Sheriff, and he’d be wise not to treat her lightly. “I’ll stop in to see Bill first.”

“Okay. You can go on down. I’ll page him and tell him you’re coming.”

Hannah walked down the tiled hallway and stopped at Bill’s office. The door was open and she peeked in, but no one was inside. She went on to Mike’s office, but before she could tap on the door to announce herself, she heard voices. Mike had someone in his office. It might be important and she wouldn’t interrupt him. She’d just sit in Bill’s office and wait for Mike’s visitor to leave.

Bill’s office was the biggest one in the administrative wing, but that wasn’t saying much. The county hadn’t even come close to spending a fortune on accommodating its highest-ranking law enforcement officer. There was a two-window view of the parking lot, one window more than the other offices had, and there was room for three chairs in front of Bill’s desk, rather than two. Since Bill’s office was wider, there was room for an entertainment center with a television set and a conversational grouping of four barrel-backed chairs arranged around an octagonal table. The furniture wasn’t new. When the sheriff’s station was first built, Rod Metcalf had covered the grand opening in the Lake Eden Journal. Hannah remembered reading that every stick of furniture, office or otherwise, had been provided at no cost to the taxpayer. It had come from donations that had been refurbished by the inmates at the St. Cloud Correctional Facility.

As Hannah glanced around Bill’s office, she saw the fine touch of her sister’s hand in several places. A brass ship’s lamp sat on the bookcase in the corner, casting a soft light in what would have been a shadowy corner. There was a photo cube on Bill’s desk containing pictures of Andrea, Tracey, and Bethany. The windows were still outfitted with blinds to block out the glaring afternoon sun, but Andrea had hung curtains on either side of the two windows and tied them together with a valance of the same material. She was about to walk over to look at the framed picture on the wall, which looked like one that Tracey had drawn, when Bill’s secretary, Barbara Donnelly, came in the connecting door.

“Hi, Hannah. Rick called me from the front desk to tell me you were here. Bill got held up in the parking lot. He’s just giving the new class of checkpoint volunteers their letters of certification. They’ll be out there this weekend, so don’t drink and drive.”

“I won’t.” Hannah opened the box of cookies and held it out toward Barbara. “Would you like a cookie before the guys eat them all?”

Barbara smiled and reached in the box. “Thanks. Bill ought to be back here before long. Do you want me to turn on the TV for you?”

“No, thanks. I’ve been talking to people all day, and I could use a little peace and quiet.”

“How about some coffee?”

“I’d better not. I’ve been drinking it since five this morning, and I’m a little coffeed out.”

“Okay. If you need anything, just open the door and stick your head in my office.”

After Barbara had gone back to her office, Hannah took a seat in one of the barrel-backed chairs. It was more comfortable than she’d thought it would be and she leaned back and closed her eyes. That was when she heard voices from the office next door. Mike’s office. The conversation had been inaudible only moments before, but now it was getting louder.

Hannah moved closer to the wall the two offices shared and took up a position by the bookcase. This could be interesting.

“I’m not going to take you off the case!” It was Mike’s voice, and he punctuated the sentence with what sounded to Hannah like his fist thumping the top of his desk with considerable force. “You don’t get to pick and choose the cases you work on. You’ll do your job like everyone else!”

“But I went out with Willa a couple of times!”

Hannah began to frown. She wondered if that was before or after Lonnie had started to date Michelle.

“So what if you dated her?” Mike asked.

“Well, how would you feel?”

“I wouldn’t feel. That’s the difference between us. And until you stop empathizing with the victim, you won’t make a good detective.”