Caramel Pecan Roll Murder (Hannah Swensen #28)
Joanne Fluke
Chapter One
Hannah Swensen took the last pan of Butterscotch Delight Cookies out of her industrial oven and placed them on shelves in the bakers rack. She was almost through with the baking she did every morning for her customers at The Cookie Jar, her bakery and coffee shop. One glance at the clock on the kitchen wall told Hannah that she had plenty of time for a bracing cup of coffee from the kitchen pot before she had to bake the final batches of sweet treats she needed for the day.
As she was pouring her coffee, the phone on the kitchen wall rang. Rather than wait for her partner, Lisa Herman Beeseman, or Lisa’s Aunt Nancy to answer it, Hannah decided to do it. “The Cookie Jar,” she answered. “This is Hannah.”
“Hannah!” The man’s voice on the other end of the line sounded slightly breathless. “Did Earl come in for coffee this morning?”
“Hold on, Mike. I’ll check,” Hannah said, recognizing the voice of her friend, Winnetka County Detective Mike Kingston. “Is something wrong?”
“I’ll say! I’ve got a mess out here on the highway and I need Earl to come out with the tow truck.”
“A wreck?”
“More than one. Some idiot with a fishing boat jackknifed it coming out of the Corner Tavern. Somebody from Iowa was going too fast and hit him, another driver rear-ended the guy from Iowa, and there’s going to be more if Lonnie and I don’t get this cleaned up fast.”
“Hold on. Let me see if Earl’s here.” Hannah hurried to the swinging restaurant-style door that led from the kitchen to the coffee shop and pushed it open. Earl Flensburg and his wife, Carrie, were sitting at a table in the back having coffee and several of Hannah’s freshly baked confections. She motioned to Earl, and when he came into the kitchen, she handed him the phone. “It’s Mike. Trouble on the highway.”
“What’s going on?” Earl asked, taking the phone from Hannah. He listened for a moment and then he gave a little nod. “Okay, I got it,” he said. “Carrie’s here and we’re coming.”
Earl handed the phone back to Hannah. “Mike wanted to know if Digger’s here. When I said he was, Mike said to tell him he needs Digger too.”
Hannah shivered. The chill she felt had nothing to do with the temperature of the kitchen. “Somebody died?”
Earl shook his head. “No. Mike just wants Digger to get out there with the hearse to slow down the traffic that’s coming from Minneapolis.”
Hannah understood immediately. Digger Gibson was the local undertaker and there was something about a big black hearse on the road that brought home the fact that people were not immortal. The sight of Digger’s hearse caused traffic to slow down and drive more carefully. The Minnesota Highway Patrol called Digger every year when fishing season opened, and Digger drove the stretch from Minneapolis to Lake Eden multiple times on opening day to slow the traffic and prevent accidents. This year Digger would do double duty, patrolling the highway on the official opening of the fishing season, and now it seemed that Digger would have to go out one week early for the first day of the Walleye Fishing Tournament that was being held at the Lake Eden Inn.
“Will you ask Lisa to put on another big pot of coffee?” Hannah asked Earl. “I’ll pack up some cookies back here, and you and Carrie can take them out there.”
“Will do,” Earl said, going back out the door to the coffee shop.
As Hannah packed up the cookies, she thought about the fishing tournament. It wasn’t due to start until tomorrow, but it seemed that some contestants were arriving early. This was a slow time of year at the Lake Eden Inn, and Hannah knew that the owners, Sally and Dick Laughlin, were grateful to Wally Wallace for choosing to hold his fishing tournament at their hotel.
Wally was practically a Minnesota legend. When he’d taken over the boat-building business from his father-in-law he had turned it into a huge success. Wallace Watercraft was a money-making enterprise and Wally Boats were popular fishing crafts all over the country. Once Wally had achieved success with his fishing boats, he had opened a chain of sporting goods stores that were popular nationwide. When tourists from other states came to Minnesota, one of the attractions that they wanted to visit was Wally’s flagship sporting goods store.
Wally Wallace took his popularity seriously. He understood that being a business tycoon came with a certain responsibility. Wally funded charities, established college scholarships, provided entry-level jobs for countless Minnesota teenagers, and sponsored sports events. When the local high school football team, the Jordan High Gulls, had needed new uniforms and equipment, all it had taken was a letter to Wally and the uniforms were designed and delivered. Of course the uniforms had the Wally’s Sporting Goods logo on the back, but that was fine with everyone concerned.
Because of Wally’s generosity, everyone in Minnesota was willing to bend the rules a bit for him. If Wally asked for a favor, it was very likely to be granted. Just recently, Wally had managed to obtain early fishing licenses for everyone who had signed up for his Walleye Fishing Tournament. The early, temporary fishing licenses were only good for the duration of the competition and were limited to fishing on Eden Lake.
Of course Wally’s tournament had been well advertised, and the last Hannah had heard, Sally and Dick were close to running out of rooms.
When Hannah had finished packaging cookies, she took them out to Lisa and Aunt Nancy. Then she got back to work to complete the day’s baking.
It didn’t take long to thaw the puff pastry dough she planned to use for her Danish. Once she’d rolled out the dough and cut it into the required-size pieces, she placed them on a baking sheet and began to make the Lemon Curd. Today’s special treat would be Lemon Danish and she could hardly wait to sample them.
Hannah flipped her loose-leaf recipe book to her Great-Grandmother Elsa’s recipe, got out a saucepan, and followed the directions her great-grandmother had written. She would fill the Danish with Lemon Curd and once they were baked, she’d drizzle a bit of powdered sugar frosting over the tops.
The Lemon Curd turned out to be easy to make, and Hannah had just pulled it off the stovetop and was giving it a final stir when there was a knock on her back kitchen door.
“Norman,” she said aloud, smiling as she recognized the knock. She pulled open the door without bothering to look through the peephole that Mike and Lonnie had insisted on installing, and said, “Come in and have a seat.”
“I can only stay for a couple of minutes,” Norman said, hanging his jacket on a hook by the back door and walking to the work station to take his favorite stool.
“Do you have time for coffee?”
“Just one cup. I need to pick up some cookies to take to Mike.”