Chapter Seven
"I'm home, Moishe," Hannah called out, opening the door to the condo and holding out her arms. True to form, her orange and white, furry medicine ball made a running jump into her arms, purring madly. Who needed a husband? Moishe's greetings were quite enthusiastic enough.
"Are you hungry? Or did you miss me?" Hannah asked, knowing that both answers were yes. She kicked the door shut behind her, placed Moishe on top of the back of the couch, and shed her coat on the seat of the chair by the front door.
Moishe yowled and bounded for the kitchen. Hannah followed, knowing exactly what he wanted. She gave him fresh water and then she opened the broom closet to get his regular crunchies. As she set the bowls down on the mat, she said, "I didn't have time to stop by Doctor Bob's office and pick up another tip sheet. That means you get a reprieve tonight, but…"
Hannah stopped speaking abruptly as the phone rang. She toyed with the idea of letting her answering machine get it, but she was in the mood to do battle with a salesman.
"Oh, Hannah! I'm so glad you're home!"
"Andrea?" Hannah flopped down in one of the aluminum tube chairs that had come with her second-hand kitchen table. "You don't sound good. What's the matter?"
"You've got to help me, Hannah!"
"Is the baby com…”
"No!" Andrea interrupted. "This doesn't have anything to do with the baby."
Hannah did her best to remain calm. Her sister sounded on the edge of a nervous breakdown. "Just tell me what's wrong and I'll fix it."
"You have to do something to clear Bill right away!" Andrea gasped, breathing hard.
"I'm trying, Andrea. What's got you so upset? You were fine when I was there."
"Deer stew."
"Excuse me?"
"Deer stew! While I was driving around with Tracey, looking for roofers, Bill's father came in from the farm. He brought some packages of meat from their freezer and a whole bunch of vegetables. Bill thawed some meat and he's making deer stew!"
"That's nice."
"No, it's not! Don't you understand, Hannah?"
Hannah took a deep breath and shrugged, even though she knew her sister couldn't see it. "No, I don't. What's wrong with deer… uh… venison stew?"
"It's a matter of principle. That's important, Hannah. There's just no way I'm going to eat Bambi!"
"You won't be eating Bambi. Bambi survived, right along with Thumper and Flower. It was Bambi's mother that got turned into stew."
"That's even worse! I'm just glad Tracey's not home."
Hannah breathed a sigh of relief as a new subject was introduced. "Where's Tracey?"
"It's Karen Dunwright's birthday and they're having a sleepover at the farm. She invited all the girls in her class. Now about this stew, Hannah… what am I going to do?"
"Eat the vegetables and leave the meat. It's too bad you don't have a dog. Then you could…”
"I get it," Andrea interrupted her, "but we don't have a dog."
"Okay. All you have to do is wear an apron and line the inside of the pocket with plastic wrap. Drop the meat in the pocket when Bill's not looking and get rid of it when you clear the table."
"That should work," Andrea said, sounding very relieved. "I still need to get out of here, though. I don't dare stick around after dinner."
"Why not?"
"Since Bill's home all day now, he's decided to help me with the housework."
"That's nice," Hannah said, wishing that she had a man to help her with her housework.
"No, it's not. Bill cleaned the kitchen."
"What's wrong with that?"
"Tracey's science project was sitting in a dish on the windowsill. She was supposed to let a potato sprout and then plant it."
"Uh-oh," Hannah said with a groan, guessing the rest. "Bill threw it out?"
"That's right. I dug it out of the garbage, but the sprout broke off and now Tracey has to start all over again. She's not going to be happy when she comes home tomorrow."
"No, I guess she won't be. But it was a mistake that anyone could have made. I throw out potatoes with sprouts all the time."
"Even if they're on the windowsill in a little dish?"
"No."
"That's what I thought. Can you think of some reason to come and get me right after dinner? I'm ready to kill him."
"I understand," Hannah interrupted. "Maybe there's someone we can interview tonight. Just give me a second to check my notes and I'll see."
Hannah grabbed her notebook and flipped through the pages. She hadn't interviewed the family of the victim yet and she had no idea if Nettie had an alibi for the time of her husband's death. Tonight could be the perfect time to find out.
"Here's something," Hannah said, earning a relieved sigh from Andrea, "and there's no way Bill can object. Tell him I'm picking you up right after dinner and we're going to pay a condolence call on Nettie Grant."
"Are we going to console? Or sleuth?"
"A little of both."
"Good! I'll be ready, Hannah. Just pull in the driveway and honk the horn. I'll come right out."
The curtains were open and Hannah glanced in at Andrea's living room as she pulled into the driveway. Things weren't all coming up roses at the Todd household. The couch Bill's parents had given them for a wedding present was no longer up against the far wall and the big-screen television had been moved. It seemed that in addition to arming himself with mop and vacuum, Bill had repositioned the living room furniture. Hannah still remembered the diagrams Andrea had shown her of the living room and how she'd agonized over exactly where to place each piece of carefully chosen furniture. No wonder her sister had exhibited such an urgent desire to leave home!
Hannah gave a polite beep on the horn and Andrea came rushing out. She pulled open the door, jumped in the truck, and banged it shut again. "Let's go. Quick. Before Bill tries to give me a warmer coat or tells me I forgot my gloves or something."
"That bad?" Hannah put the truck into gear and backed toward the street.
"Even worse. I sneezed during dinner and he was sure I was getting the world's worst cold."
"Are you?"
"No. I just got a piece of dust up my nose, that's all."
"So, how was dinner?" Hannah reached the end of the driveway, backed out, and then drove forward down the street.
"Gruesome. The vegetables were still crunchy and Bill didn't bother to pare the carrots or peel the potatoes before he put them in. He's really an awful cook, Hannah."
Hannah bit her tongue and didn't say a word about the pot calling the kettle black.
"Your trick with the apron worked fine, though. And that reminds me… stop at the first dog you see."
"What?"
"Just stop when you see a dog. I've got all that deer meat in my coat pocket and I'll give it to him."
"Okay, but I thought you were going to throw it away."
"I was until I remembered that Bill takes out the garbage. If he saw it, it would hurt his feelings."
Hannah glanced at Andrea, but her sister wasn't being sarcastic. Andrea really did seem to be worried about hurting Bill's feelings. Maybe that's what marriage was, a lot of give and take. This time Andrea was on the giving side, but next time she could be the one who was taking. "I admire you, Andrea. If someone came into The Cookie Jar while I was gone and rearranged all the tables and chairs without asking me, I'd slap him silly."
"I'd never do that," Andrea said with a smile. "I just keep telling myself that the minute Bill goes back to work, I can break a couple legs off that hideous couch his parents gave us and say he must have cracked them when he moved it. And then I can go out furniture shopping and replace it with something I like."
Twenty minutes later, after stopping to make Gil and Bonnie Surma's German shepherd extremely happy, Hannah pulled up in front of Nettie's duplex and cut the lights. "Grab that bag of Cashew Crisps in back of your seat, will you?"
"Sure." Andrea reached back to get the cookies. "Are you taking them to Nettie?"
"I'd feel strange coming here without bringing something."
"I feel strange coming here period. I really shouldn't be paying a condolence call, not when Bill's a suspect in her husband's murder."
"Nonsense." Hannah grabbed Andrea's hand and pulled her forward. "Nettie knows that Bill's no killer. Besides, she's all alone and she could probably use some company."
"How do you know that?"
Hannah gestured behind her. "No cars on the street. They were probably double-parked here this afternoon."
"What if Nettie's tired and wants to rest?"
"Then we'll make our excuses and leave. But I'm willing to bet she'll be happy to see us, especially since you didn't eat much for dinner and neither did I."
Andrea turned to look at her sister in consternation. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"You can bet every one of Nettie's friends has been here with food today. Her refrigerator is probably packed and she'll be glad to see two people with appetites."
"You could be right. People always bring their best dishes when there's a death in the family. They did when Dad died."
"I remember. The sheer number of casseroles, Jell-O molds, and cakes was staggering. It would have been just like a big potluck dinner if anyone had cracked a smile."
Cashew Crisps
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F., rack in the middle position
1 l/2 cups melted butter (3 sticks)
2 cups white sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla
1/8 cup molasses (2 Tablespoons)
1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 l/2 cups finely ground salted cashews (grind them up in your food processor with the steel blade-measure AFTER grinding)
2 beaten eggs (just whip them up with a fork)
3 cups flour (no need to sift)
Microwave the butter in your mixing bowl to melt it. Add the sugar, the vanilla, and the molasses. Stir until blended, then add the baking soda, baking powder, and salt. Mix well.
Grind up the cashews in your food processor. Measure AFTER grinding. Add them to the bowl and mix. Pour in the beaten eggs and stir. Then add the flour and mix until all the ingredients are thoroughly blended.
Let the dough sit for a few minutes to firm up. Then form dough into small walnut-sized balls and arrange them on a greased cookie sheet, 12 to a standard sheet. (These dough balls spread out so make them fairly small. If the dough is too sticky to form into balls, chill it for a few minutes and try again.)
Flatten the balls slightly with a spatula or the palm of your impeccably clean hand, just enough so they won't roll off when you put them in the oven.
Bake at 350 degrees F. for 10 to 12 minutes, or until the edges turn golden brown. Cool on the cookie sheet for 2 minutes, then remove to a wire rack to finish cooling.
Yield: Approximately 10 dozen, depending on cookie size.
(Mother thinks I should put a small nugget of milk chocolate in the center of the balls, but she ALWAYS thinks I should add chocolate to my recipes.)