Chapter Eight
Hannah woke up with a start. She’d been having a nightmare and Norman Rhodes, an insane dentist with a drill that sounded like a dump truck backing up, had been grinding her teeth. Since she’d refused to unclench her jaw, he’d been doing his evil dentistry right through her cheek. When she opened her eyes, she was relieved to find that it was only Moishe, licking her face with his sandpaper tongue to wake her.
The alarm clock was serenading her with its irritating electronic beep, and Hannah moved Moishe over so that she could reach out and shut it off. It was still dark outside, but the security light on the side of the building had come on. Since it detected any type of motion, Hannah figured that it had been set off by a winter bird that had swooped down to peck at the birdseed bell she’d hung outside her window.
“Okay, I’m getting up. I know it’s feed-the-kitty time.” Hannah levered her head from the warm comfort of her pillow and sat up in bed. She dangled her feet over the side of the mattress and searched with her toes for the pair of slippers she kept there. She nabbed one, then the other, and wiggled her feet into the gray scuffs that had once been powder blue.
When she got to the kitchen, the coffee was ready, and Hannah gave thanks for the timer she’d rigged to the kitchen outlet. Some of the older women in Lake Eden called strong black coffee “Swedish plasma” and Hannah agreed with that definition. She couldn’t even think, much less function, until she’d downed at least a cup. She poured herself a mug of the steaming, caffeine-laden brew, threw some kitty crunchies into Moishe’s bowl, and sat down at the table.
There was something very important on the docket for today. Hannah took a big gulp of her coffee, hoping to dispel the morning cobwebs that had gathered in her head during the night. It wasn’t a new catering job. She had her schedule set for this week.
The sound of loud chewing roused Hannah from her zombielike state and she turned to look at Moishe. His kitty crunchies were living up to their name. He was chomping so hard, he sounded as if he might break a tooth and…“Ron’s tooth! That’s it!”
Moishe gave her a startled look and then he buried his head in his food bowl again. Hannah grinned. He probably thought she was crazy for hollering out loud, but she’d just remembered what Tracey had told her, right before she’d discovered Ron’s body. Tracey had said she’d waved at Ron and he’d given her a “funny” smile. People who’d just come from the dentist had “funny” smiles, especially if the dentist had given them a shot of novocaine. And Danielle had said that she’d urged Ron to go to the dentist.
Hannah reached out for the yellow pad she kept on the kitchen table and jotted down a note to herself. Call every dentist in town. Did they see Ron yesterday morning? Then she grinned at what she’d written. Every dentist? There were only two dentists in Lake Eden: Doc Bennett and Norman Rhodes. Doc Bennett was retired, but he still kept a few of his former patients in enamel, and Hannah hoped that Ron had been one of them. She certainly wasn’t looking forward to the prospect of calling Norman. He might think that she was following up on her mother’s attempt at matchmaking and nothing could be further from the truth.
It took a second mug of coffee, but at last Hannah felt she was ready to face the morning. She added a second note to her first—Drive to Twin Pines to check out the bouncer—and then she pushed back her chair. It was time to get ready for work.
Since she never ate breakfast, Hannah was usually ready to go in record time. She made quick work of her shower, dressed in faded jeans and a flowered sweatshirt, and hurried back to the kitchen to fast-forward through the messages on her answering machine. They were all from her mother. Delores sounded like a talking chipmunk at the increased-speed playback and Hannah was amused. She knew she’d have to return her mother’s calls eventually, but that could wait until she got to The Cookie Jar.
“See you tonight, Moishe.” Hannah grabbed her keys from the corkboard next to the phone and glanced at the African violet as she passed by the table. Its leaves were turning yellow and it looked in imminent danger of becoming mulch. She shrugged into her bomber jacket and snatched up the plant, carrying it with her out the door. Lisa was a wizard with plants. She might be able to resuscitate it.
It wasn’t until Hannah was approaching the dairy that it hit her, and she winced as she drove past the white cinderblock building with the huge Cozy Cow sign on the roof. Ron was gone. She’d never see him loading his truck again.
That was a sobering thought and Hannah almost blew off the stop sign at the corner of Main and Third. She managed to brake just in time and she smiled guiltily at Herb Beeseman, who was lurking in the alley by the Cut ’n Curl. Herb just shook his finger in a good-natured “no-no” gesture, and Hannah breathed a sigh of relief. Herb was being very nice this morning. He could have given her a ticket for reckless driving, but he seemed more amused than angry. The Molasses Crackles she’d given him yesterday afternoon had been a very good investment.
As she turned the corner and drove into the alley behind her shop, Hannah wondered who’d hauled away Ron’s truck. Max Turner would be livid if it had been impounded and he was one truck short for his delivery routes. She steered a wide berth around the place where Ron had been shot and gave a fleeting thought to the difference between the fronts of the shops and the backs. There were no decorative planters in the alley for shrubbery or flowers, no plate-glass windows for displays and signs. The backs of the shops were institutional-looking, just parking places, Dumpsters, and blank walls with small doors set in at regular intervals. It wasn’t a nice place to die, but that raised another question. Was there a nice place to die? And did it really matter to the deceased?
Morbid thinking was getting her nowhere, and Hannah drove on down the alley. If Ron had been killed on the street, there might have been witnesses, but the alley was usually deserted and she hadn’t seen any activity when she’d driven in yesterday morning. Even though she hadn’t been paying much attention, Hannah was sure she would have noticed if there had been anyone prowling around the Dumpsters or standing near any of the doorways. The only other person she’d seen yesterday morning had been Claire Rodgers.
As Hannah unlocked her back door, she decided she’d have a chat with Claire. Bill or one of the other deputies must have already interviewed her, but it couldn’t hurt to ask a few more questions. Hannah had the perfect excuse to talk to Claire. Just as soon as she mixed up her cookie dough, she’d dash next door and take a look at the cocktail dress that Claire had seemed so eager to sell to her.
She switched on the lights, fired up the ovens, and headed for the sink. After she’d slipped on her paper cap and given her hands a thorough scrub, Hannah reached for the book of laminated recipes that hung on a hook by the sink. She was catering the Lake Eden Regency Romance Club meeting at four this afternoon and she needed to make a batch of Regency Ginger Crisps.
Hannah read through the recipe before she began to work. She also used an erasable felt-tipped marker to check off the ingredients as she added them to the bowl. It was possible to leave out a critical ingredient when she was distracted, and Hannah was definitely distracted. She couldn’t stop thinking about Ron’s murder and the clues she’d gathered in the past twenty-four hours. The way she saw it, they had two suspects: Coach Watson and the unidentified bouncer at Twin Pines. Both of them had possible motives to kill Ron.
Coach Watson might have believed that Danielle was having an affair with Ron, and jealousy was a powerful motive for murder. And if Ron had landed the “few good punches” that Danielle had told her about, the bouncer could have decided to follow Ron and take his revenge.
As Hannah melted, measured and mixed, she thought about the first of their suspects. She had to check out Coach Watson’s alibi, and the Lake Eden Regency Romance Club was a good place to start. Coach Watson’s sister, Maryann, would be at the meeting, and Hannah could pump her for information.
Identifying their second suspect would take a little work. Hannah planned to drive out to Twin Pines tonight and nose around. She’d find out which bouncer had fought with Ron and whether he had an alibi for the time of Ron’s murder.
It was seven twenty-five by the time Hannah had finished her early-morning work. In addition to Regency Ginger Crisps, she’d also mixed up two batches of Chocolate Chip Crunches, three batches of Pecan Chews, and one batch of a recipe that Lisa had developed called White Chocolate Supremes.
“Hi, Hannah,” Lisa called out cheerfully as she breezed through the back door at precisely seven-thirty. She hung up her parka, tucked her hair inside a paper cap, and headed for the sink to wash her hands. “What do you want me to do first?”
Hannah stashed the last bowl of dough in the walk-in cooler and joined Lisa at the sink. “Would you mind putting on the coffee, Lisa? I’ve got a few phone calls to make. I mixed up a batch of your White Chocolate Supremes and you can bake them first. We’ll try them out on the regulars today. And see what your green thumb can do with that African violet on the counter. I don’t want to do jail time for houseplant abuse.”
“No problem. I’ll set up the tables and bring you a mug of coffee when it’s ready.”
When Lisa had left, Hannah picked up the phone and punched out Doc Bennett’s number, listening to it ring.
“Doc Bennett.”
Doc sounded curt and Hannah glanced at the clock. Perhaps seven forty-five was a bit early to call a semiretired dentist. “Hi, Doc. This is Hannah Swensen over at The Cookie Jar.”
“Hello, Hannah. Still brushing the way I taught you?”
“You bet!” Hannah was relieved. Doc sounded a lot friendlier now.
“Do you have a dental emergency, Hannah?”
“No, everything’s fine.” Hannah hadn’t been able to come up with a roundabout way to ask her question, so she just blurted it out. “I was wondering whether you saw Ron LaSalle yesterday morning as a patient.”
“My office wasn’t open, Hannah. I took the day off and drove up to Little Falls to see my sister. You’d better check with Norman Rhodes. I hear he’s been coming in at the crack of dawn most mornings and taking walk-ins without appointments.”
“Thanks, Doc. I’ll do that. And drop in for a cookie one of these days.”
Hannah hung up the phone and sighed. Things never worked out the way she wanted. Now she’d have to call Norman.
The smell of coffee from the shop was enticing, and Hannah walked in to fill a mug. It hadn’t finished perking, but it was hot and she sipped it gratefully. She shouldn’t have to call the man her mother had picked out for her without a full load of caffeine to sustain her.
“The coffee’s not ready yet, Hannah.” Lisa turned to give her a curious glance.
“That’s okay.” Hannah took another sip of the coffee-flavored water. Then she thought about Twin Pines and how seldom Lisa got out of the house. “Can you get someone to sit with your father tonight? I’m driving out to Twin Pines and I’ll treat you to supper if you want to come along.”
“I’d love to. The neighbors like to sit with Dad, now that we bought that big-screen TV. Why are you going out to the Indian casino?”
Hannah remembered Bill’s caution about not telling anyone that she was doing legwork for him. “I’ve never been there and I’ve always wanted to see the place.”
“Me too. Herb Beeseman says they have great ribs.”
“Then we’ll have the ribs. And we’ll take all the quarters in the cash register and feed the slots.”
So Lisa had been talking to Herb. Hannah stored that away for future reference and walked back to the bakery feeling much better. Lisa was good company, and as far as anyone else was concerned, they were just going out to the casino to eat ribs and gamble.
It was time to call Norman. Hannah reached for the phone and punched out his office number. If Norman misinterpreted the reason for her call, Bill would owe her. She twisted the cord around her fingers as it rang several times and then Norman picked up.
“Rhodes Dental Clinic. Norman Rhodes speaking.”
“Hi, Norman. It’s Hannah Swensen.”
“Hello, Hannah.” Norman sounded pleased to hear from her. “Did you call your mother yet?”
“My mother?”
“She called me this morning to ask if I’d seen you. She said she’d left a bunch of messages on your answering machine, but you hadn’t called her back.”
“Guilty,” Hannah admitted. “I didn’t check my machine until this morning and then I was in a rush. I don’t suppose you happen to know what she wanted?”
“Not really. But she did ask what my intentions were toward you.”
“What?”
“Relax, Hannah. My mother’s the same way. It must be in the genes. They never stop trying to control your life.”
Hannah wasn’t about to ask Norman what he’d said. She really didn’t want to know. “I’ve got a question for you, Norman. Did Ron LaSalle come in to see you yesterday morning?”
There was a long pause and then Norman sighed. “I’m sorry, Hannah, but I can’t tell you that. All information regarding a patient’s visit is confidential.”
“Then Ron was your patient?”
Hannah heard a distinct gulp on the other end of the line. “I didn’t say that!”
“Of course you didn’t.”
“Then why did you assume that he was?”
Hannah smiled, very pleased with herself. Perhaps she’d actually learned something in that required logic course she’d taken. “If Ron wasn’t your patient, you could tell me he wasn’t. There’s no breach of ethics in that. But you said that you couldn’t tell me and that means he was.”
There was another beat of silence and then Norman chuckled. “You’re quick, Hannah. And you’re right. I guess it can’t do any harm to tell you now. Ron was my first appointment of the morning. He came in presenting considerable pain from a fissured molar.”
“A cracked tooth?”
“Yes, in layman’s terms. I’m sorry, Hannah. I’ve got a patient in the chair and I can’t talk now. Just hang on and let me check my schedule.”
Hannah waited, shifting from foot to foot. This was important. Norman might have been the last person to talk to Ron.
“Hannah?” Norman came back on the line. “I’m booked solid this morning, but I don’t have anyone scheduled for one. If you come in then, I’ll tell you all about it.”
“You want me to come in?”
“I think it would be best, don’t you? We really shouldn’t talk about something this sensitive on the phone. I’ll pick up salads and sandwiches at the cafe and we’ll have lunch while we talk. I have something very important to ask you.”
Hannah made a face. The last thing she wanted to do was have lunch with Norman, but if she wanted to help Bill solve Ron’s murder, she had to gather all the facts. And the one person left alive who could tell her what had happened during Ron’s dental appointment was the dentist himself.
“All right, Norman,” Hannah caved in to the inevitable with all the good grace she could muster. “I’ll see you at one.”
Regency Ginger Crisps
Do not preheat oven yet—dough must chill before baking.
? cup melted butter (1? sticks)
1 cup brown sugar
1 large beaten egg (or two medium, just whip them up with a fork)
4 tablespoons molasses (that’s ? cup) ***
2 teaspoons baking soda
? teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons ground ginger
2? cups flour (not sifted)
? cup white sugar in a small bowl (for later)
Melt butter and mix in sugar. Let mixture cool and then add egg(s). Add soda, molasses, salt, and ginger. Stir it thoroughly. Add flour and mix in. Chill the dough for at least 1 hour. (Overnight is even better.)
When the dough has chilled, preheat oven to 375 degrees F., rack in the middle position.
Roll dough into walnut-sized balls with your hands. Roll the dough balls in white sugar. (Just dump them in the bowl with the sugar and shake the bowl gently to coat them.) Place them on greased cookie sheets, 12 to a standard sheet. Flatten them with a spatula.
Bake at 375 degrees F. for 10 to 12 minutes or until nicely browned. Cool on cookie sheets for no more than l minute, and then remove to wire rack to finish cooling. (If you leave these on the cookie sheets for too long, they’ll stick.)
Served these at Mother’s Regency Romance Club. They asked me for something from the Regency Period. Why not?
(Tracey loves these as a bedtime snack with a glass of milk.)
Yield: 6 to 7 dozen, depending on cookie size.