Blueberry Muffin Murder (21 page)

"There's one thing I know." Norman looked very serious. "I thought about it all the way back here. I wasn't mugged or carjacked. I was deliberately targeted for some reason."

Hannah stared at him in surprise. "What makes you think that?"

"If the guy wanted my car, he could have hot-wired it while I was inside loading my cameras. It took me a good fifteen minutes, and everyone else had already left. And I was carrying a waterproof gym bag with a couple of cameras and my wallet inside. I set it down on the top of the trunk while I brushed off my windshield. He could have just grabbed it and run. I think I was attacked by Connie Mac's killer."

"You're lucky he didn't kill you, Norman," Janie commented, and Hannah noticed that her face was very pale.

"I know. I think the only thing that saved me was that I dropped my car keys in the snow. He must have swung at me just as I bent down to pick them up."

"That would explain what Doc Knight told me," Hannah said. "He thought it was a glancing blow."

"Exactly. And I'm pretty sure he would have hit me a second time if Luanne hadn't driven up just then."

Hannah didn't want to think about what would have happened if Norman hadn't dropped his car keys. Instead, she concentrated on asking another question. "Let's say you were targeted by Connie Mac's killer. Why you?"

"I don't know. It's true that I was next door the night she was killed, but it's not like I could identify him or anything."

"No, but he might think you could." Hannah's mind raced through the possibilities, and one stood out. "Wait a second. Didn't you tell me that you were testing your fill lights that night?"

"Yes," Norman answered. "What does that have to do with it?"

"Did your lights flash when you were testing them?"

Norman nodded, and Hannah began to smile. "Then I've got it."

"Got what?"

"The reason why Connie Mac's killer targeted you. What if he was hiding outside The Cookie Jar that night, waiting for a chance to get Connie Mac alone and kill her? He could have seen those flashes and thought that you were taking pictures of him."

"I just remembered something," Janie told them. "Connie Mac and I saw the flashes on the snow outside. She thought that some reporter was trying to take an unauthorized picture of her through the window, but I pointed out that it was coming from the Ezekiel Jordan House, and we decided that you must have been taking portraits over there."

Hannah leaned forward in excitement. "You have to develop that film, Norman. You could have a picture of Connie Mac's killer!"

"Impossible," Norman said, shaking his head. "My camera wasn't loaded. I didn't want to waste film when I was just testing the lights."

Hannah bit back a word that might have made Janie blush and groaned instead. "For a minute there, I thought we might have a shortcut to the killer."

All three of them were silent for a moment, and then Norman turned to Hannah. "Maybe we do have a shortcut."

"How? You said your camera wasn't loaded."

"It wasn't, but the killer doesn't know that. He still thinks I've got a picture of him. He'll have to try to kill me again, Hannah. I'm sure of that. And that means we can set a trap for him."

Hannah's mouth dropped open and she stared at Norman in shock. Then she shook her head furiously. "That knock on the head must have rattled your brains. If you had any sense left at all, you'd know there's no way I'd ever let you use yourself for bait!"

GRILLED CREAM CHEESE SANDWICHES

(Hannah Swensen's Very Best Mistake)

For each sandwich you will need:

2 slices of bread (white, egg, wheat ' take your pick) 1 package of chilled block cream cheese (not softened or whipped) Softened butter

Butter two slices of bread. Place one slice buttered side down on a piece of waxed paper. Cut slices of cream cheese approximately '-inch thick to cover the surface of the bread. Put the other slice of bread on top, buttered side up.

Preheat a frying pan on the stove. Using a spatula, place your sandwich in the pan. Fry it uncovered until the bottom turns golden brown. (You can test it by lifting it up just a bit with the spatula.) Flip the sandwich over and fry the other side until it's golden brown. Remove the sandwich from the frying pan, cut it into four pieces with a sharp knife, arrange it on a plate, and serve it immediately.

This sandwich goes well with piping-hot mugs of tomato soup.

You can turn this into a dessert sandwich by using slices of banana or date-nut bread and sprinkling the sandwich with a little powdered sugar. If you really want to go whole hog, top it with a scoop of ice cream. It's delicious that way.

Six o'clock came much too early and Hannah crawled out of the warm comfort of her bed reluctantly. It seemed as though just minutes had passed since she'd taken Norman to the scene of his assault to pick up his car and followed him home to make sure he got there safely. She'd idled outside the house for a few minutes, but no lights had gone on in Carrie's bedroom. When Hannah had been fairly certain that Norman wouldn't be required to deal with a hysterical mother in the middle of the night, she'd driven back to her condo and fallen into her bed for the hours of sleep that were left to her.

Hannah gazed around her, blinking in the glare from the lamp on her bed table. Moishe wasn't there. He'd probably crawled in with Janie in the wee hours of the morning. Even though she knew she was being silly, his defection disturbed her. Moishe was a male, and all the important males in her life had .deserted her in one way or another. Mike had turned cool and coplike. It wasn't surprising, considering that he was in charge of a murder investigation, but she missed the good-natured banter they'd enjoyed in the past. And Norman was just as bad. He'd told her he wasn't jealous of the time she'd spent with Mike, and now he'd had the nerve to suggest that he use himself as bait in a trap for the killer without a second thought for her feelings. Then there was Moishe. She'd taken him in, fed him the best cat food that money could buy, and taken him to the vet for his shots. And how did he repay her kind generosity? He'd left her bed in the middle of the night and deserted her for a younger woman!

Her slippers were right where she'd left them, and Hannah pulled them on. She knew she was being ridiculous, but she couldn't seem to help it. Moishe had been waiting for her in her bed when she'd arrived home last night, and he'd let her cuddle him for much longer than usual. He'd even purred and licked her cheek with his raspy tongue. He loved her; Hannah knew he did, and that was more than she could say for either Norman or Mike. She was in a bad mood this morning because she was tired, and she had to shake it off.

Once Hannah had showered, she felt much better. Ten minutes under a steaming spray had loosened her cramped muscles and erased some of the fog from her brain. She dressed in a pair of jeans, pulled on the alternate Winter Carnival sweatshirt she'd bought, and slipped her feet back into the old pair of dorm slippers she wore around the house. Then she padded down the hallway toward the kitchen. She had a lot to do, and if she didn't get a move on, she'd fall behind schedule. Today would be a prime example of "hurry up and get there so you can rush as fast as you can." That was a smidgeon better on the frustration scale than "hurry up and get there so you can wait," but not much. Somehow, she had to get energized, and a strong cup of coffee was the only cure for her case of drooping eyelids.

"Morning, Hannah," Janie greeted her. She was standing at Hannah's stove, flipping something in a frying pan. "Don't try to talk. Just sit down at the table and I'll bring you a mug of coffee."

Hannah sank down in a chair. It was much more comfortable than she'd remembered, and she resisted the urge to put her head down on her folded arms and snooze.

"Drink this;' Janie ordered, plunking a mug of coffee down in front of Hannah's nose. "It'll help."

Hannah inhaled the strong fragrance and took one huge gulp. The coffee was hot but not scalding, and she realized that Janie must have poured it when she'd heard her getting dressed. After she'd drained the cup and held it put for a refill, her eyes opened all the way and she smiled at Janie. "Thanks. I'm beginning to feel halfway human."

"Good. Now all we have to do is work on that other half. I take it Norman got home okay?"

"He should be fine. I stuck around for a few minutes to make sure his mother didn't wake up. What are you doing out here so early?"

"Moishe got me up. I think he was sorry he'd made such a mess."

"What mess?"

"He got into the cabinet where you keep the cat food. I swept it up and filled his bowl."

Hannah's gaze turned from Moishe, who was happily chowing down at his food bowl, to the broom closet door. It was locked up tight, and she knew she'd left it that way. "What happened?"

"He learned how to open the lock." Janie walked over to the door and pointed. "I think he jumped up on the top of the refrigerator and batted at the hook until it popped out."

"That figures,' Hannah said, giving Moishe a baleful look. He stared back at her with wide yellow eyes, and he didn't look at all guilty. "What are you cooking?"

"French toast. Are you getting hungry yet?"

"You bet. It smells wonderful. Are you sure you don't want to move in permanently?"

"I'll think about it." Janie laughed and flipped the French toast out onto a plate. "I got the recipe from Helen, Connie Mac's cook."

"The Cooking Sweetheart had a cook?"

"Oh, yes. She got her best recipes from Helen. The Winter Carnival cake was Helen's recipe, and she made the original one."

Hannah remembered Connie Mac's conversation with Edna and how she'd claimed she stayed up most of the night to decorate the cake. It seemed that Connie Mac had been a fake as well as a nasty person. "How about the replacement you were baking?"

"I was supposed to bake all the layers. Mrs. MacIntyre thought that I could handle that. And when I was through, she was going to call Helen and have her drive to Lake Eden to decorate it."

Hannah took another gulp of her coffee. This could be very important, especially if Helen had hated Connie Mac as much as the other people who'd worked for her. "Do you know if Connie Mac called Helen?"

"She didn't. I told Bill and Mike about it and they checked." Janie carried the plate to Hannah, went back for butter and maple syrup, and sat down in the opposite chair. "I brought in the paper. Do you want the front section?"

"No, give me the comics. I can't handle hard news until I've had at least one pot of coffee. You read it and tell me if there's anything interesting."

The French toast was delicious, light and fluffy with a mouthwatering hint of cinnamon and nutmeg. Hannah finished it in record time and got up to get refills on their coffee. She was just pouring some for Janie when she heard her gasp.

"What is it?" Hannah set the coffee pot down on the table.

"Larry Kruger wrote another ghost story. He's speculating that Ezekiel Jordan's ghost is the one who bashed Norman on the head."

"You're kidding!" Hannah started to .laugh. "I guess he doesn't know that Norman's family moved here from out of state. It's pretty unlikely that Norman could be related to anybody in F. E. Laughlin's poker game."

"Larry's got that base covered. He claims that Ezekiel's ghost was upset over the fact that Norman was taking pictures in your mother's re-creation of his house. It seems that Ezekiel Jordan was a spiritualist and he believed that a camera could steal a man's soul. He refused to pose for pictures or allow any member of his family to be photographed. According to Larry, that's why there aren't any pictures of him. Ezekiel wouldn't allow a camera anywhere inside his house."

"Larry's nothing if not enterprising," Hannah commented. "Does he think that Ezekiel's ghost hit Norman over the head to keep him from taking more portraits?"

"That's what he says. And a lot of people seem to be taking it seriously. Here's a story about another ghost sighting out at the inn last night."

"What time?" Hannah asked.

"At a quarter to ten."

"Then Ezekiel's ghost can be in two places at once. Norman told me that he was bashed on the head at nine forty-five."

Janie started to grin. "That must be an advantage a spirit has over ordinary mortals like us. Larry interviewed Sally Laughlin and she claims she saw something floating down the hall last night at a quarter to ten."

"Sally said that?" Hannah turned the article so that she could read it. Once she'd scanned it, she looked up with a frown. "That's an abrupt turn of face for Sally. When I talked to her yesterday, she told me she didn't believe in ghosts. I'm going to ask her about it when I get to the inn."

By the time Hannah got out to the inn, Lisa was already hard at work rolling dough balls for the Old-Fashioned Sugar Cookies. After apologizing for being late, Hannah pitched in to help. When the four ovens Sally had allotted for their use were filled and they'd rolled the rest of the dough balls, Lisa fetched them cups of coffee and they took a short break.

"Tell me what really happened to Norman last night," Lisa urged, sitting down on a stool next to Hannah. "I read Larry Kruger's story in the paper, but I didn't believe a word of it."

"Norman got bashed in the head on his way out to his car, Luanne Hanks pulled up just in time to scare his attacker away, and neither one of them saw who hit him. Norman figures it was Connie Mac's killer, and he asked me to set a trap and use him for bait."

Lisa's eyes widened. "Are you going to do it?"

"Of course not. It's much too dangerous. My big worry is that Norman's going to try to set up something himself."

"You could be right. A guy can be really foolish when he's trying to impress his girlfriend."

That comment stopped Hannah cold, and it took her a minute to recover. "You mean. . . me?"

"Yes, you. Norman adores you, Hannah. I've seen the way he looks at you."

"Have you been listening to Doctor Love?" Hannah asked the first question that popped into her mind.