Joanne Fluke - Apple Turnover Murder

It only took a moment to sprinkle on a few pieces of salted nuts, slip the pan into the preheated oven, and set the timer. Hannah managed to answer the phone on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Hannah!” It was Andrea’s voice and she sounded anxious. “I’m sorry to call so early, but I knew you’d be up and I really need to talk to you. It’s about…oh drat! Bill’s out of the shower and I can’t talk now. I’m showing two houses this morning, but I’ll come in this afternoon, okay?”

“Fine, but…” Hannah stopped talking when she realized that her sister had hung up. She stood there staring at the receiver for a moment and then she returned it to the cradle. Andrea was usually a late riser. What had happened to get her up before dawn? Or had she been sleepless all night, worrying about something?”

The timer dinged and Hannah removed the pan of Vanilla Crack from the oven. It smelled marvelous. She removed the pieces from the cookie sheet on a wire rack to harden and gave a little smile of satisfaction.

“What smells so heavenly?”

Hannah whirled around to see her youngest sister standing in the kitchen doorway, wearing a red and black checkered nightshirt and pink bunny slippers.

“It’s a new cookie called Vanilla Crack.”

“Vanilla Crack ?” Michelle’s eyebrows approached the edge of her honey-brown bangs. “Do you know what crack is?”

“Of course I know what crack is.”

“But you’re still going to call this cookie Vanilla Crack?”

“Yes, I am. There’s no way I’m going to let a slang term invented by a scroungy dope dealer spoil my friend’s cookie name. They’re called Vanilla Crack, and Chocolate Crack, because the syrup is poured on crackers. And anybody who objects to the use of a perfectly good English word because illiterate criminals use it is an idiot!”

Michelle backed up a step and held up her hands, palms facing Hannah. “Okay. Forget I mentioned it. You’re absolutely right. I just didn’t know if you knew that it might have negative connotations. It smells divine, though. I think I’ll try a piece for breakfast, if that’s all right with you.”

“For breakfast ?!” Hannah heard her own words, more than a little censorious, echoing back to her. It wasn’t that long ago that she’d been a college student like Michelle, and she’d eaten cold pizza for breakfast. On the scale of nutritional correctness, was a piece of Vanilla Crack that much lower than a piece of cold pepperoni pizza?

“Hannah? Can I try a piece of Vanilla Crack for breakfast?”

“It’s may I. And yes, you may. Let me know how you like it while I start on the Chocolate Crack. And be careful. It hasn’t had long to cool and it could be too hot to eat.”

Michelle reached out to touch the confection on the cooling racks while Hannah arranged graham crackers on another cookie sheet. Then she put butter and brown sugar into her saucepan and brought it to a boil. She boiled it for the required five minutes, poured it over the graham crackers on the cookie sheet, and slipped the sheet in the oven. She’d just measured out the chocolate chips she’d need once it finished baking when she noticed that there was a large empty space on the cooling rack. “You’ve already eaten a quarter of a pan?” she asked Michelle.

“I guess I was hungry,” Michelle said a bit sheepishly. “It was great, Hannah. It’s just like a flaky candy bar. Is the Chocolate Crack almost done? I’d like to taste that, too.”

“Ten minutes in the oven, five minutes to cool, and you can have a taste…or maybe another quarter-pan. You’re pretty wide awake for someone who didn’t get home until after midnight last night. I thought you said Lonnie had to work a swing shift.”

“He did work a swing shift. And before he went to the sheriff’s station, he dropped me off at the community college. It was jazz night at the Cave,” Michelle named the little bistro on campus that hosted student entertainment in the evenings, “and I met some friends. I caught a ride here with one of them.”

“Oh.” Hannah turned away to hide her worried expression. She hoped the friends Michelle had at the college didn’t include Bradford Ramsey. She’d been meaning to warn Michelle about the unscrupulous professor ever since her youngest sister had invited him to Christmas Eve dinner, but the time had never seemed right. Hannah supposed now was as good a time as any, but the thought of imparting such an embarrassing confidence at shortly after five in the morning made her courage shrink up and her voice turn mute.

“What is it?” Michelle asked, locking eyes with Hannah. “You look…pained. Is it the coffee on an empty stomach?”

“Heavens, no!” Hannah said, and changed the subject quickly. “That reminds me…what do you think of the coffee? We’re trying a new brand at The Cookie Jar and I brought some home to test.”

“It’s really good. I like it better than the old kind. But you haven’t told me what’s wrong?”

Hannah sighed. She supposed she really should answer Michelle. She steeled herself to introduce the subject, but just as she was about to speak, the phone rang. “Oops. I’d better get that,” she said, and grabbed the phone. “Hello?”

“Hi, Hannah. It’s Mike. I’m not calling too early, am I?”

“I’ve been up for an hour, Mike,” Hannah answered, using his name deliberately so that Michelle would know who it was.

“Tell him hi from me,” Michelle said, hopping up from her chair. “I’m going to go get dressed. By that time, the Chocolate Crack should be cool enough to try.”

“Did she say Chocolate Crack ?” Mike asked, and Hannah could hear the shock in his voice.

“That’s right. It’s a new recipe. And I do know what crack is. This crack refers to one of the ingredients, crackers, and I’m not about to change the cookie name because some criminals use it for drug slang.”

“Okay. Okay. I just wanted you to know, that’s all.” Mike backed off quickly. “Have you heard from Norman?”

“Yes, at four thirty-five this morning. He told me he couldn’t sleep well without Cuddles.”

“That figures. It’s all a matter of habit. When I was growing up, I slept in a room with my older brothers. When they moved out, it took me a week before I could sleep through the night. It was just too quiet, you know?”

“I do know. So what’s up, Mike? You don’t usually call this time of the morning just to chat.”

Mike gave a little laugh. “You know me too well, and you’re right. Do you know where Norman is staying in the Cities?”

“No, and I didn’t ask him when he called. I should have, but I guess it was just too early to operate on full brainpower.”

“I know what you mean.”

“Do you want me to ask if he calls again? He’ll probably get in touch with me sometime this evening.”

“That’ll be too late. I need to call and ask him where he hides his extra key.”

“Which key?”

“His house key. I know he hides one somewhere outside.”

“Did Norman tell you that?”

“No, but almost all the homeowners do it. It could be nasty if you got locked outside by accident in the winter.”

“True,” Hannah said and then she was silent. She wasn’t about to give away Norman’s hiding place until she knew more about why Mike needed that information.

“So do you know where he hides it?”

“Yes. Why do you want to know?”

“One of Norman’s neighbors was driving by on her way to work the early shift at DelRay this morning, and she saw a light flick off upstairs. She knew that Norman was gone, so she called the station to report it.”

“That was nice of her.”