Chapter Nine
After Mr. Hart had congratulated the winner, an elderly woman who had baked a delicious poppy seed cake, Hannah turned to Edna Ferguson, the new substitute judge. “You did a wonderful job, Edna.”
“Do you really think so?”
“Yes.” Hannah smiled warmly. “I thought you handled that gingerbread problem very well.”
Edna made a face. “I really didn’t like it.”
“I know, but you complimented the contestant on her brandy sauce.”
“It was a good brandy sauce. It just didn’t taste right with the gingerbread, that’s all.”
“That’s true.” Hannah frowned slightly, remembering the combination of ginger and brandy. “All the same, I thought you were very kind.”
“I tried to be. After what happened last night, I figured the last thing we needed was another tactless judge on the panel. They haven’t arrested anyone yet, have they, Hannah?”
“I don’t think so. I talked to Bill right before the contest, and I’m sure he would have said something.”
“Well, I hope they catch him soon!” Edna shivered slightly. “Another murderer loose in Lake Eden! It just gives a body chills.”
After she’s said good night to Edna, Hannah collected the boxes from her televised baking and stashed them in the back of her truck. As she drove toward her condo, where Norman had promised to meet her, she thought about what Edna had said. Perhaps Edna suspected that Boyd’s murder had something to do with the bake-off. It would explain why she’d been so careful about criticizing the contestants’ entries. But Hannah was convinced that the nasty comments Boyd had made as a judge had nothing to do with his violent demise. All of last night’s contestants had airtight alibis, and that meant Boyd had been killed for another reason.
Hannah flicked her lights at a car that was weaving a little too close to the center line. It straightened out and she passed it. She was sure that the cars Mrs. Kalick had seen in the alley figured into the picture. So did the argument that Mr. Gessell had heard. The phone call Boyd had gotten on Tuesday was also an important part of the puzzle. Norman’s first patient, the mysterious lady who’d left the scarf, could have made it. Hannah intended to ply Norman with cookies tonight and find out exactly who she was.
* * *
Hannah opened her door with a smile. For some strange reason, she was really glad to see Norman, and it wasn’t only because she was planning to pump him for information about his mystery patient. Norman wasn’t the kind of man to give a woman palpitations. To say his hairline was receding would be a kindness, and he was a little plump around the waist. But Hannah knew she could use a dose of his humor after the exhausting day she’d spent, and Norman was a very good friend. “Hi, Norman. I’m really glad you came over.”
“You are?” Norman seemed both surprised and pleased at the warmth of her greeting. “Before I forget, you were great tonight, Hannah. And you were pretty, too. That dress made your hair look like copper.”
“Thanks, Norman.” Hannah decided not to make a crack about copper and how it turned green. It was obvious that Norman had paid her a sincere compliment, and she didn’t want to spoil it. “Come on in. It’s cold out there and I’ve got my fake fireplace on.”
“Rrrow!” Moishe also greeted Norman warmly, practically tripping him as he came in the door.
“Hi, big guy. Just a second.” Norman slipped out of his coat, draped it over the chair by the door and leaned down to pick up Moishe. “Have you terrorized any Chihuahuas lately?”
Moishe started to purr so loudly, Hannah could hear it all the way across the room. He didn’t even object when Norman carried him belly-up in his arms, an action that would have earned anyone else several deep and painful scratches.
“Would you like some wine, Norman? I’ve got a bottle open.” Hannah winced slightly as she remembered that all she had was the green gallon jug of Chateau Screwtop she’d bought at CostMart.
“No thanks. I’ll just take a diet soft drink, if you’ve got it. Or water, if you don’t.”
Hannah grinned. Most Minnesotans didn’t use the phrase, “soft drink”. Although Norman had grown up in Minnesota, he’d lived in Seattle long enough to pick up that expression.
“What did I say to make you grin?” Norman asked.
“Soft drink. Everybody in Lake Eden calls it pop. You’re in luck, Norman. I just stocked up for the holidays and I’ve got Coke, Diet Coke, root beer, red cream soda, or 7-Up.”
“Red cream soda?” Norman started to smile. “I haven’t had that since I was a kid. Where did you find it?”
“CostMart. I bought all they had left. The manager told me they got a partial shipment from some bottling plant in the South. It’s not diet, though.”
“That’s okay. I’ll take one anyway.”
Hannah was smiling as she went into the kitchen to get Norman’s drink. She’d wanted to buy him a small Christmas present, and a case of red cream soda would be perfect. She slipped the cap from the soft drink that looked like strawberry soda but wasn’t and poured it out into one of her best glasses. After she’d filled her wineglass from the green jug that was labeled “White Table Wine,” she carried both drinks out to the living room.
Norman was sitting on the couch holding Moishe. Hannah’s pet was still purring and had a blissful expression on his face. Moishe liked Mike, but he adored Norman. As she settled herself on the other end of the couch, Hannah wondered if her pet knew something that she didn’t know.
“Have an Oatmeal Raisin Crisp.” Hannah gestured toward the napkin-lined basket she’d set out on the coffee table, filled with some of her “safe” cookies. Moishe didn’t like raisins, and that made them cat-proof.
“Thanks.” Norman reached for a cookie and took a bite. “These are my favorites.”
Hannah laughed. “That’s what you said about the Chocolate Chip Crunches. They can’t all be your favorites.”
“Yes, they can. Your cookies are so good that whatever I’m eating is my favorite at the time.” Norman stopped and frowned. “Did that make sense?”
“It did to me,” Hannah said with a grin. It always made her feel good when someone complimented her on her cookies.
“I like your fireplace,” Norman commented. “It looks almost real.”
“I like it, too. It provides a lot of heat, and I never have to lay in a supply of firewood. Andrea and Bill have a real one, and he always worries if the fire’s still burning when they go up to bed.”
“That’s why I want a fireplace in the bedroom. You could put on a couple of log before you went to bed and it would keep the room nice and warm. It’d be romantic, too.”
Hannah had always thought a fireplace in the bedroom would be romantic, but she’d never heard anyone else say so before. “You’re right, Norman. I don’t know why more people don’t have them.”
“I guess it’s because most people don’t design their own houses. They buy a house that already exists, or they hire an architect who designs the whole thing. Maybe I should get one of those architectural programs for my computer and try my hand at designing the perfect house.”
“That sounds like fun.”
“If I get the program, would you like to help me? I don’t know anything about kitchen and things like that. I’d probably forget to leave room for the dishwasher or the oven.”
“Ovens,” Hannah corrected him. “If you plan to do a lot of entertaining, you’ll need two. A thanksgiving turkey fills the whole oven. You need a second oven for the side dishes.”
Norman laughed. “See what I mean? I never would have thought of that. It’s pretty obvious I need you, Hannah. We’ll work on it together and design our dream house.”
Hannah began to feel uncomfortable. Designing a dream house with a man she’d only dated three times was pretty serious stuff.
“If it turns out all right, we can enter our plans in the dream house contest they’re running at the Minneapolis paper. First prize is five thousand dollars, and we can split it. How about it, Hannah? Do you want to take a crack at it?”
“Sure.” Hannah smiled in relief. Norman wasn’t proposing anything more than entering a contest, and that would be fun. “You get the program, and I’ll think about the perfect kitchen.”
They were silent for a moment, watching the flames dance up from the holes in the gas log. It wasn’t romantic, but it was cozy. Hannah was reluctant to break the mood by asking Norman about his patient, but she had to find out who’d left that scarf in his office.
“Norman?”
“Yes, Hannah?”
“I’d rather just sit here watching the fire with you, but I need to ask you a question.”
“Okay. What is it?”
“It’s about your first patient on Tuesday morning, not Luanne Hanks, but the one you didn’t write down in your appointment book. Who was she?”
Norman sighed. “I was hoping you wouldn’t find out about that. Do you really need to know, Hannah? Or are you just curious?”
“I really need to know. Maybe I don’t need to know her name, but I have to find out if you pulled any of her teeth.”
Norman looked puzzled. “Why do you have to know that?”
“Because a woman called Boyd Watson at noon on Tuesday and was slurring her words. It really upset him, and it might have something to do with why he was killed. Andrea and I think she might have come from your office with a mouthful of cotton wadding.”
Norman sighed again, and Hannah could tell that he was reluctant to answer. It took him a minute, but then he said, “Okay, Hannah. I extracted two teeth in the upper right quadrant. When she left my office at seven forty-five, I told her to keep the packing in until one.”
“Was she slurring her words?”
“Yes.”
Hannah took a deep breath. “Then I really need to know who she is, Norman. She’s got to be the woman who called Boyd.”
“It was Lucy Richards.”
“Lucy? Why didn’t you write down her name?”
“Because I’m doing her caps off the books. It’s a favor for a favor.”
Norman looked extremely ill at ease, and Hannah knew that there was a lot he wasn’t telling her. Was Delores right about Lucy and Norman? Was he doing a favor for the woman he favored?
“There’s nothing wrong with that, Norman.” Hannah smiled in an attempt to put him at ease. “I know it’s none of my business, but are you… uh… attracted to Lucy?”
Norman just stared at her for a moment, then he shook his head so hard, Hannah was afraid his brains would scramble. “No! Whatever gave you that idea?”
“Just a wild guess.” Hannah wasn’t about to mention either Norman’s mother or hers. “So you’re doing a favor for Lucy by giving her some free dental work. What favor is Lucy doing for you?”
For a long tense moment, Hannah didn’t think Norman was going to answer. Then he sighed, and said, “She discovered something about me, Hannah, an incident that happened when I was living in Seattle. I do her caps and she agrees not to publish her story. It’s simple, really.”
“It’s blackmail, really.”
“Actually, it’s extortion,” Norman corrected her, “but I have to go along with it. She’s got me over a barrel.”
“Is what Lucy knows really that bad?” The question slipped out before Hannah had time to think about it, and she wished she hadn’t asked. It was really none of her business.
“It’s bad enough. It wouldn’t completely destroy my life if it got out, but the people in Lake Eden would never look at me in the same way again. Mostly, I’m concerned about my mother. She’d be devastated.”
Hannah’s mind whirled. Norman had admitted that Lucy was blackmailing him. Could she have attempted the same thing with Boyd? And how about Claire? Lucy had waltzed into The Cookie Jar wearing a new coat from Beau Monde, and she owned the expensive scarf that Luanne had wanted to buy for her mother. The story Lucy had told about her book advance had been pure hogwash. Hannah had thought so at the time. And now she suspected that every penny of Lucy’s newfound wealth had come from the people she’d threatened to expose.
“Hannah?”
“Yes?” Hannah put her thoughts on hold and turned to Norman.
“I asked you a question. Do you have to know what Lucy found out about me?”
Hannah made an instant decision. “No.”
“Are you afraid you won’t like me anymore if you find out what it is?”
“You should know better than that, Norman!” Hannah gave him a stern look. “Your secret is your secret. But if you ever choose to tell me about it, I absolutely guarantee that it won’t change my feelings for you.”
“Thanks, Hannah. Maybe I’ll tell you later, but not right now.”
“That’s good enough for me.” Hannah did her best to squelch her curiosity over what Norman had done. “Think carefully, Norman. Do you think that Lucy could be pulling this same thing with any other people in town?”
Norman shrugged. “That’s certainly possible. As a reporter, she has access to all sorts of information. That’s how she found out about me. Actually, I wouldn’t put it past her. When she came into my office and demanded that I fix her teeth, I got the impression that she’d done this type of thing before.”
“What made you think that?”
“She knew exactly what she was doing. She handed me her story, told me to read it, and said she had a deal for me. And she warned me that if I even thought about turning her in, I’d see it printed on the front page of the Lake Eden Journal the next day.”
Hannah was surprised at Norman’s na?veté. “And you believed her?”
“Of course not. I was sure that Rod would never print it, but she could still tell people, and you know how gossip spreads in a town the size of Lake Eden. Besides…”
“Spill it, Norman,” Hannah ordered. “I want to know.”
“At that point, I was really angry. And I was looking forward to working on her teeth. I figured I could jab her with the dullest needle I’ve got.”
Hannah laughed. She couldn’t help it. And she was glad to see that Norman joined in. “Did you?”
“No. Once I started working, my professional side took over. I’m a good dentist, Hannah.”
“I’m sure you are.”
Norman took a sip of his red cream soda and sighed. “What do you think I should do about it, Hannah? Report it to Sheriff Grant?”
“Not yet. So far, you’re the only victim we know about. I think we should try to find some of the others first.”
“You’re sure there are others?”
“I’m almost positive. Don’t forget that Lucy called Boyd. She was probably pulling the same thing with him. And there have to be others. She’s been spending money like it’s going out of style.”
“But how are you going to find her other victims? They’re not going to come up and tell you about it. You’re going to need proof.”
“Proof.” Hannah repeated the word and started to smile. “That’s it, Norman. Did Lucy have proof that the story she wrote about you was true?”
“Yes. She had a letter from…”
“Never mind,” Hannah interrupted him. “I don’t need to know where it was from. But she did have proof?”
“Yes. The letter she showed me was a copy, but she said she had the original.”
“Then all I have to do is find out where she keeps it. There’s bound to be things from her other victims there. I can find out who they are and…” Hannah stopped speaking in mid-sentence, and a smile spread over her face. “Forget I said that. I must be tired. I don’t have to track down Lucy’s other victims. All I have to do is steal her proof.”
“But how are you going to do that? You don’t even know where she keeps it.”
“It wouldn’t be in the newspaper office. Rod might find it.” Hannah began to eliminate the possibilities. “And she wouldn’t keep it in a safe-deposit box because the bank’s closed at night and she might need it. She wouldn’t trust anyone else to keep it for her, it’s just too important. And that means it’s got to be in her apartment.”
“That makes sense, but there’s no way Lucy is going to give you permission to search her apartment.”
“I wasn’t planning to ask for her permission. When is her next appointment?”
“Tomorrow morning at seven. She’s coming in early, and I’m doing impressions. But you can’t break into her apartment, Hannah. That’s illegal.”
“So is extortion. How long can you keep her in the chair?”
“I don’t know.” Norman frowned, and Hannah could tell his morals were kicking up a fuss.
“You’ve got to cooperate with me, Norman. I’m going to need at least an hour.”
Norman gave a sigh and caved in. “I can manage that. I’ll mix in extra water with the impression powder and it’ll take longer to set. But I can’t keep her longer than an hour.”
“That’s okay. It’s a small apartment, and I should be through by then. Call Lucy’s number when she leaves your office so I’ll know it’s time to head out.”
“Okay, but I don’t like this, Hannah. What if you get caught?”
“I won’t,” Hannah reassured him, wishing that she had someone to reassure her.
OATMEAL RAISIN CRISPS
Preheat oven to 375 degrees F., rack in the middle position
1 cup melted butter (2 sticks, 1/2 pound)
2 cups white sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons baking soda
2 large eggs, beaten (just whip them up with a fork)
2 1/2 cups flour (no need to sift)
1 cup raisins (either regular or golden, you choose)
2 cups GROUND dry oatmeal (measure before grinding)
Melt the butter in a large microwave-safe bowl. Add the sugar and mix. Then mix in the vanilla, salt, and the baking soda.
When the mixture has cooled to room temperature, stir in the eggs. Add the flour and stir it all up. Then mix in the raisins.
Prepare your oatmeal (Use Quakers if you have it—the cardboard canister is useful for all sorts of things.) Measure out 2 cups and dump it in the food processor, chopping it with the steel blade until it’s the consistency of coarse sand. Dump it in your dough and mix it all up. (This dough will be fairly stiff.)
Roll walnut-sized dough balls with your hands and place them on a greased cookie sheet, 12 to a standard sheet. (If it’s too sticky to roll, place the bowl in the refrigerator for 30 minutes and try again.) Squish the dough balls down with a fork in a crisscross pattern (like peanut butter cookies).
Bake at 375 degrees for 10 minutes. Cool on the cookie sheet for 2 minutes, then remove the cookies to a wire rack to cool completely.
Andrea likes these and she’s never liked raisins—go figure.